The drifting clouds of Clarisandra's chest make a convenient and effective distraction for my right eye as Doc clamps the empty socket of my left into position for the regenerative surgery. The worst part is always the scaffolding, which is just pretty talk for scraping out the goo in order to find a solid foundation to start the regeneration. But I do my best to never get in a doctor's way.

Legend has it a squeamish Ranger once influenced a doctor to start the regeneration of his thumb before the doc had removed all the foreign debris. Some of that debris hadn't been human. Supposedly, as a result, the Ranger grew back half the torso of a field mouse instead of a thumb. They had to cut off his hand and start over—now that's some serious scaffolding.

"You're sure you're okay with my beginning the scaffolding before you're fully anesthetized?" The Doc's dubious eye and furrowed brow hovers above me, up side down from my perspective. The Integrity Faction male doctor is clearly hesitant to scrape the eye goo of a conditioned killer under the banner of the Council while said killer is still awake.

Integrity publicly disavows projection, instead stressing the value of the flesh, so the doc is corporeal for the surgery. His frame is older than mine, but that's not saying much for a Hibernari, especially considering that Templar are programmed with exactly fifty years before our tickers pop. Overall, Doc's augmentations haven't altered his humanoid appearance significantly—not nearly as bulky as most Integrity males.

"This isn't my first rodeo, Doc." I pause for breath—the drugs already setting in. "Scrape the eye and get on with it."

Doc looks unamused. The gasses swirling around Clarisandra's chest pulse between vermilion and purple as she finishes clamping my head in place. Doc retreats to his command console to drive the procedure. I feel the laser grid activate. I try to stiffen, but that's already been done for me. I focus on the wisps of colored gas twining around Clarisandra's neck.

When the scaffolding starts in earnest, I'm grateful for the rapidly accelerating effects of the anesthesia.