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By all accounts, he should have felt beyond excited. As far as he knew, no one had ever been given the same opportunity - the same honour. This would be a true testament to his skills. He'd be able to say, afterwards, that "ah, yes, that is the result of my work! Look at him go, how I fixed him!" Something to put in his resume, for sure. Something to brag about later. He should have been ecstatic.
The truth, however, was that he only felt very, very nervous. Primarily thanks to a pair of gold-on-black eyes that shone with an absolute fury. Directed straight at him.
He had been on this job for a few months now. Time had really flown by, but he would be the first to admit that he was still, in many ways, a beginner, a rookie. He had all the qualifications, no doubt there, he had graduated with top honours and he had been a very diligent student throughout his time at university. His hard work had finally paid off and he had been lucky enough to land this job at the Hero Association not long after graduating. It was the opportunity of a lifetime! He had been so proud of himself when he came home to his girlfriend that night to share the news of his new occupation. This was his chance to help, to make a difference in this world. He might never be able to become a hero himself, but he would be able to help others achieve that goal. A most noble cause!
His speciality was cybernetics and robotics. It was not an easy field to get into and not just because it was a complicated field to begin with. Part of the reason was because it was exploding as a field of research - science had made leaps and bounds in recent years and there was constantly something new to learn, new research to catch up to. That was fine, though - that's what made this so exciting! He loved to learn about new pathways, methods and aids. New ways to help others.
Another reason that his particular line of work was so difficult, though, was that this was, for whatever reason, a field where the top scientists seemed to have one thing in common: they all appeared to be a bunch of lone wolves, each doing their own thing. In secret. Snarling at anyone else in the same field who tried to tried to learn more about their work, like a dog guarding a bone. Quite a contrast to many other scientific fields, as they typically relied so heavily on shared knowledge.
Metal Knight was, of course, the most well known name in the field. Or rather, his works were - the person behind the hero name was very secretive. But as far as he knew, no one could parallel his knowledge of robotics. Much of it was (unsurprisingly, all things considered) very secret, but from what he had learnt while studying (in his "robo-school", as his girlfriend called it), the man was a pure genius. They had looked at some of his work in class, though they had only had access to now outdated models. It had been very interesting all the same and he had picked up new knowledge to use in his future profession.
Metal Knight wasn't the only one, though. That one was most heavily involved in the military and weapons side of robotics. Being a S-class hero certainly helped make you well known, so even those who had no interest in robotics otherwise often at least recognized his name. But there were others. Most of them were however primarily involved with hospitals and other care units, where they worked with aiding the sick and disabled. It was an honourable cause, but not one that would earn you much fame. The public was generally much less familiar with them, but they still deserved a great deal of respect for their work.
As far as he had understood, the medical field was where the secretive dr. Kuseno had started his path. At least, that's where it was easiest to find any sort of information about what he had worked on previously. He had read some of the man's written publications during his education. Much of it had been extremely informative, but it was already years old at that point and thus out of date. Kuseno was... mysterious. As far as his teachers had known, he was still very much working and apparently making good money on his current works, but true to his field (it was very strange to him why this seemed to be such a common theme) he too had evolved into some sort of elusive hidden man these days. Complete with the obligatory secret laboratory. No one seemed to have access to his modern projects and no one he spoke to really knew what he was primarily working on right now. In fact, no one seemed to recall even seeing him in a scientific setting for a long time, though he had been assured that yes, Kuseno was alive and healthy and still working on his projects. Wherever he was. He secretly hoped to meet him, one day. Dr. Kuseno might not be the best in his field (as far as he knew, hard to tell his current degree of knowledge when there were no recent publications under his name) but he had clearly helped shape the cybernetics field back in the day and it would be interesting to see him in real life and maybe have a chat with him, if he dared to dream.
And then, he showed up.
Demon Cyborg.
He had, like many others, been awestruck from the start, just after first hearing about him on the news if he was to be honest. This... being... was unlike anything he had ever seen before. At first, he hadn't even been sure what he was looking at. The arms and eyes were giveaways of course, but that face had looked more human than anything he'd seen before. Could he really be...?
Most cyborgs in society were regular humans with a prosthetic limb or two. Maybe an artificial ear or eye. Synthetic skin was pretty common, for a variety of reasons. The more advanced artificial body parts weren't cheap to manufacture and some could be pretty hard to install - and adjust to - so not a lot of people used them (or could afford to, even if they wanted them). But fortunately, more extreme cases weren't that common. You'd have to be pretty badly banged up to replace half or more of your body with robotic counterparts. And then here comes this guy, who appeared to have synthetic parts from the top of his skull and all the way down to his metal feet! Save, of course, his face. But even that had turned out to be man-made after all, once they had seen the first TV news feeds showing him with his face torn. Skin cracked - not sliced - and no blood in sight.
The public had evidently accepted their new S-class hero without question. He could understand why - beyond his raw power, Demon Cyborg had an image of being dark and mysterious, that's something the fans could swallow right up. Most people had no idea how much knowledge it would have taken to build a body like that, so they didn't pay it any mind and saw only the celebrity. He, like his colleagues and student friends, had however enquired amongst themselves as soon as they learnt of his existence. Who had the skills to build something like the Demon Cyborg? Some had suggested Metal Knight was behind it, but that thought had quickly been dismissed. The cyborg completely lacked his signature design. Besides, Metal Knight had always seemed to prefer a classic android drone over a human/robotic hybrid, cold metal all the way through. The new S-class hero didn't fit that description well at all. This cyborg, while clearly a ferocious fighter, still looked distinctly human, complete with a mop of blonde hair that could drive fangirls crazy (and did so).
Eventually, the name had been brought up, with an almost ferocious whisper. Could this be the work of dr. Kuseno? No one could verify as much, then. Many scoffed at the idea. Kuseno hadn't published anything noteworthy in years. Certainly this was beyond his area of expertise. But from what his more experienced former teachers could tell him when he asked about it, there were certain signs that might point in that direction, despite everything. The pale synthetic skin on Demon Cyborg's face seemed reminiscent of Kuseno's previous work according to one of his former teachers, back when he had worked with treating burn victims. He had been well known for his realistic-looking formula, he had received some sort of award for it and it had made a strong impact in the medical portion of the robotics field back then.
The rest, though... As far as anyone had known, Kuseno had never been involved with weapons. But Demon Cyborg evidently had plenty of those. His palm-directed incinerators were very interesting in particular - he had never before heard of a cyborg that used literal firepower in battle before. How could he produce the sort of energy that something like that would require? Hell, how could he use something like that at all without overheating his internal systems? His brain would still need to be kept at a temperature suitable for humans at all times and there would have to be a lot of extremely delicate machinery residing in that body that would almost certainly be heat-sensitive to at least some degree. Artificial nerves could be finicky at the best of times and he couldn't imagine extreme heat would improve their performance. He guessed the cyborg must have some sort of advanced internal cooling system to keep himself from overheating, but he'd never heard of a cyborg body built to function like that. It all seemed so alien compared to what he had learnt about in university.
Being officially listed with the HA now, he did have access to the medical files of every hero (or other employee) with an artificial implant or body part of any kind. After all, it was his job to repair them when they got damaged. That had included Demon Cyborg. Unfortunately, he hadn't really learnt anything from those files, either. Just about the only thing he had found out that the rest of the world wouldn't already know was that his true name was actually Genos - no last name given - and that was hardly classified information anyway. It felt strange to use that name, though, so he preferred to stick with the more well-known hero name.
The only information it had listed under his medical status was simply "cyborg". He hadn't been surprised that those responsible for testing out new heroes didn't have the knowledge to ask a cyborg the right questions when the initial hero application forms were filled out (for some reason, they had had him perform the same physical test as anyone else, when they could just have asked Demon Cyborg for his specs!), but he had been disappointed that the new hero himself hadn't shared any vital information in his files either. Had he been a regular person, they would have listed his blood type, allergies, close of kin in case of emergency... Anything that would be important to know. For Demon Cyborg, they had nothing. All else aside, the lack of information was something that could endanger him, if he ever found himself in a situation requiring immediate care.
As a matter of fact, from what he had seen, that seemed to happen fairly frequently. Demon Cyborg was a vicious fighter - he was S-rank after all - but he was not immune to damage and seemed to have a reckless streak that made him risk his own well-being to win a fight more often than not. His knowledge of how robotics functioned meant he could see signs that the general public couldn't when they broadcast his feats on TV now and then (in the rare instances the camera crews were fast enough to show up in time). He'd seen clips of the cyborg fighting that suggested he was in need of repairs at the time. It could show itself as a reaction time that was just a little too slow or a hint of confusion across his features as artificial eyes struggled to focus on his foe after a particularly heavy hit. Once he'd even seen him release a steady stream of dark smoke escaping through his shoulder vents even as he continued to fight, which did nothing but raise his curiosity further on just how that mechanical body functioned. And who took care of it.
For despite these signs of injury, Demon Cyborg never set foot in the medical care ward of the HA headquarters. Most likely, he went to his creator to be put back together to perfect health. No one knew where he went or by what means. But whoever it was they seemed to always get him back into fighting condition within days - and not rarely with him sporting fancy new upgrades afterwards! It was quite mind boggling. He wished he could have asked the cyborg himself, but his reserved nature made it very difficult to even get close to him. He never seemed to willingly engage in a conversation with anyone at the headquarters, nevermind talk about himself. Evidently he was set on remaining a mystery, to his fans and the HA alike. None of the lower-rank heroes he'd worked up the courage to talk to had had anything useful to tell him, and he knew he didn't have a chance at meeting the cyborg himself. S-ranks were typically out of regular mortals' league. His curiosity would probably have to remain as it was, forever unanswered, unless the cyborg came to him personally. But that seemed extremely unlikely, to say the least.
***
From what he understood, the battle had been short but intense. It had been some sort of sloth monster, with great slashing claws. The recovery team had found it behind a collapsed building, dead but still warm. Still on fire, as it were, reeking with the stench of burnt fur. It had not been difficult to guess who had dealt with it - the fire and smoking debris was a tell-tale sign. What had surprised the recovery team was that when they rounded the street corner, the hero was still there.
Demon Cyborg had been sprawled beside a broken metal staircase, conscious but not moving beyond eyeing them with his trademark frown. Wild sparks of electricity were flying about his person, centred on a terrible gash at the side of his throat, reaching back into his neck. A few wires were hanging out, crackling and buzzing. The recovery team had not dared to touch him, afraid of getting electrocuted. When they had asked if he could move from where he was or at least talk to them, there had been no response. That's when they'd called for him. He wasn't the most experienced qualified robotics expert among the staff, but the call had come during his during shift, so the task was his. What an amazing opportunity!
He had arrived quickly. The sloth monster had been kind enough to attack close to the HA headquarters, so it had actually been a short trip via one of their recovery vehicles, no more than 15 minutes or so, before he saw the famed Demon Cyborg up close for the first time. He hadn't moved at all since the team had made their call, so he could immediately assume that the other one was likely paralysed from the blow to his neck or he would have been gone from the area by now. His neck might have been broken, at the very least fractured... A life threatening condition in a regular person, but less of an issue in a cyborg. Certainly an annoyance, though, and something that would require delicate work to be fixed. The lack of speech could likely be attributed to the same injury, an artificial voicebox was a very delicate piece of equipment and that was definitely a nasty looking gash.
The sparks had died down a bit at that point, but it would still be dangerous to move the metal body, the risk of getting shocked was still very much present. The cyborg couldn't remain here, though. He had to be repaired before his systems would eventually possibly shut down completely from the broken currents, endangering his organic brain and thus his life. He understood that the cyborg likely wished to be taken straight to his unknown creator, but they had no idea who that was or how to get hold of him or her... There were no other options, really. And he had to admit that a small part of him was excited at the prospect of bringing the cyborg back with them to the headquarters, to look more closely at him. Was this his chance at being the first person to learn more about the inner workings of the cyborg prince?!
He took a deep breath and steadied his voice as he held out his medical badge, trying to appear reassuring and trustworthy. Hopefully his voice wouldn't tremble when he spoke...
"I'm here to help you, alright? I come straight from the headquarters... I'm going to take you to the robotics wing and get you patched up again, okay? Don't worry, I'm totally qualified!"
To be truthful, he wasn't all that surprised to see Demon Cyborg's eyes widen in alarm. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was static and unintelligible noise, half through his mouth and half through his throat. He winced at the noise. That was definitely a broken voicebox, a piece of machinery that he'd honestly much rather leave to someone with a bit more experience, those were so complex... But it didn't matter right now. His voice was a much smaller issue than the rest of him. The most important thing right now was to safely move him and get started on fixing those wires in his neck.
"Uh... Don't worry, okay? We have to move you to the recovery vehicle. Due to the risk of unwanted electrocution, I will have to put you into deep repair mode..."
His voice almost faltered completely on the last word. Demon Cyborg, terrifying Demon Cyborg, was doing everything he could to get up. Since all he could move was his head that didn't amount to much, but his expression made up for it. If looks could kill, he (and likely the rest of the waiting recovery team, too) would have been incinerated on the spot. The cyborg's dark eyes shone with anger and more than a hint of fear. His mouth had turned into an almost feral snarl promising vicious attack if they came closer, but he still couldn't move any of his limbs or say anything... Lucky for his onlookers.
More than a little nervous, he walked up to the unmoving body. He was acutely aware of the recovery team's eyes on his back, every single one deathly quiet behind him, quite unlike their usual banter. All of them were older than him, more experienced in their roles. But he was the only one here who knew how to deal with a cyborg. He had a feeling they weren't jealous of his position right now, if the cyborg's expression was anything to go by.
He brought up a hand - protected by a thick rubber glove - and carefully prodded at the back of the fractured neck. A cascade of sparks as the unwilling recipient tried to throw his head back, anything to hinder his progress. He could barely move at all, so that wasn't really that much of a problem, but he was a little worried the other one would figure out a way to release some of that infamous fire of his to attempt to stop them. Surely he couldn't release it from his mouth, though? No, that would have compromised his artificial mouth and throat too much... He hoped.
He felt sweat running down his back, trying to keep his hands steady. During his training, his patients had typically been calm and supportive when he'd had to do this - not attempting to fight as if their very lives depended on it. This was certainly a new experience.
He hesitated for a moment, then resolutely brought up his other hand as well, feeling around the thick tangle of exposed wires and cables, grabbing blindly. Some he could tell were intact, some ripped and broken. This would have been so damn much easier if he knew who built this body, what base model had been used... Or at least, how it was powered. He was afraid of what would happen if he ripped the wrong wire...
He felt a hitched breath below him as his fingers grabbed a particular wire that had looked promising when he had leaned in closer to see better. Aha. More loud static noises (he was probably grateful that he didn't know what the cyborg was calling him right now) as he, as gently as he could, let his fingers travel up the wire to determine where it connected to the back of the titanium skull. Okay, that must be it... It felt similar enough to others he'd done in the past on other patients. Shooting the cyborg a last glance, he muttered a low "sorry, man" before pulling it out, disrupting the connection.
The thrashing head immediately stopped struggling, artificial irises instantly blacking out and facial muscles gradually relaxing. His breath slowly steadied to a low but regular rhythm while his internal fans slowed to a lower setting. No more sparks flew from the broken wires, the body now offline save for basic life-preserving functions. Okay, now they could move him.
***
Moving the unconscious metal body had definitely been an interesting experience and not just because of the amount of manpower it took to carry it. It soon became very evident that this cyborg was different from any other he had worked with. Most synthetic parts were made to imitate a real body part - soft to the touch, as lightweight and lifelike as possible and clad with imitation skin to seal the deal. At the other end of the spectrum, you had Metal Knight's droids - cold metal, barely human-like and designed only with battle power in mind, not to look pretty.
Demon Cyborg seemed to fit somewhere in between. Like Metal Knight's droids, almost his entire body was cold grey metal, bulky and armour-like, save some softer areas, such as his neck. But even those were a dull black polymer, clearly not made to imitate human skin. The only exception was his face, as lovingly crafted as a handmade porcelain doll. It was as if someone had set out to create a battle machine, a weapon, and then clad it in the most beautiful package possible. Who would design a cyborg like that? And for what purpose?
He hoped that maybe, just maybe, Demon Cyborg would be willing to talk to him when he had his voice back to answer some of his questions. He rather doubted he would, though. If anything, he would probably be lucky if he wasn't attacked on the spot, if his last reaction was anything to go by. He knew the hero had a reputation of being reserved, but he hadn't expected him to try to fight them with everything he had (as little as happened to be at the time).
Once the body had been placed in his examination room, he had quickly connected him to various advanced machines and computers, linked via several cables inserted directly into his neck and artificial spine. These were supposed to help him monitor his vital signs, energy readings and other important information about the state of his mind and body. He had no idea what operation system the Demon Cyborg's neural interface might use - his machines could convert any of the most common coding languages, but everything else about his body had been so different that he didn't dare to venture a guess as to which one his body used.
None of them, it turned out. Not a big shocker there, all things considered. He tried entering various prompts to get into the systems with no response beyond a resolute "access denied" on the screen before him. Fine, then. He ignored that display for now and instead studied another screen that produced a slowly rotating 3D image of the still very human brain enclosed in its protective casing. Whatever biological replication system the cyborg used, it was keeping his brain in good condition and it showed no sign of injury, stats normal. All good there, no need to worry about it for now.
Finally he turned his full attention to the injured neck on the table before him, using a small flash light to examine it closely, fingers carefully pushing the wires aside to look deeper. As far as he could tell, the vital synthetic spinal bond was still intact, which was a good sign. That reinforced segment was directly connected to his brain, allowing the flow of nourishment and oxygen as well as connecting his artificial nervous system that enabled him to feel and use the rest of his body. That left only the snarl of damaged cables and wires to be dealt with. Hopefully, as soon as they were repaired, the cyborg would be fully functional again.
Now that he could work in peace, he took his time to examine each damaged wire and cable carefully. Some of them did seem to follow the classic neural pathways as he had learnt about them in university and that felt reassuring. Others, however, were completely alien to him and he wasn't sure what function they might have. He also saw signs of some sort of strange inner reinforced metal tubing system that seemed to reach into the shoulders as well as deeper down into the chest. Was that tied to his firepower, somehow? The tubes seemed intact, so he left them alone, afraid to mess something up. Top grades be damned, this was beyond anything he'd worked with before.
Carefully, he walked a few steps to the side to inspect the body from another angle and considered if he could lift the stained and dusty shirt over the unresponsive head and arms. He tried lifting one heavy arm and then decided against it. It really wasn't worth the hassle. Surely the Hero Association could cough up the money for a replacement shirt, if it came to that. He grabbed a pair of scissors off the nearby table and cut away the fabric until he had free access to the robotic torso. Gently he prodded the two large chest plates, looking for a release or hatch of some kind. Time to find out what powered this guy.
The release was well hidden, but eventually he found the right spot. Pressing his fingers down underneath the edges of the wide plates, they suddenly sprung open upon his insistent touch and he jumped back with a gasp. Inside that metal chest burned... something. A fuel cell of some kind, but unlike anything he'd seen before. It bathed its surroundings in a pulsing bright blue light. What exactly was that? The word "core" was written repeatedly on it, but no other information beyond that. He would not touch it, not knowing what might happen if he did. But he could feel its pulsing heat when he held his hand above it. Whatever it was, it appeared undamaged and he used the flash light to try to see into the depths behind it. A thick black cable connected the core to the inner workings on the body and he was pretty certain it also connected to that system of tubes he'd seen before. Stepping back to look into the tangle of wires in the back of the neck again, he could verify that it was those same tubes that split down into each shoulder and - he assumed - continuing down into the arms. This must be what powered his attacks as well as his normal body functions, then. Yikes. No wonder he had been built with some sort of advanced internal fan system. That core was intense.
He closed the chest plates again with a low click as they hitched back into place, preferring to leave that part of the body alone rather than risk messing something up. Instead, he grabbed various tools off the table near him and set to work on re-connecting the wires in the neck. There was a certain order to it to minimize the risk of damage to the body (and himself, should anything short circuit) and he carefully repeated his past teachers' words to himself as he worked to make sure he was doing everything as it should be done.
***
It had been a few hours later when he had connected the last of the broken wires. There was still work to do on the body - he would need to re-seal the polymer casing and while working on the neck, he had noticed some lesser damage to the right hand, as well as two smaller scratches on a vent panel where the left side of his ribcage would have been. Well, and that voicebox. But he had a feeling it might simply be better to let the cyborg go back to his creator to get that fixed or replaced. He couldn't guarantee that he would be able to make a perfect vocal repair. The pitch was especially hard to get just right. Many cyborgs that required speech aids had to settle for a rather stereotypical robot-voice, but he knew Demon Cyberg had a perfect human voice when the device was working properly. He'd certainly offer his services... but he wasn't too hopeful that the Demon Cyborg would accept his help if he had a choice in the matter, given his previous behaviour.
He had saved that special wire until last. The one he had disconnected to force the cyborg into a deep forced emergency rest mode. He would be the first to admit doing so without his consent had been... invasive. But really, he hadn't had any other choice! He only wanted to help and besides, it was his job. He had no idea how quickly Demon Cyborg's systems would reboot after he plugged the wire back in, so once he connected it, he slowly backed away a few steps in worried anticipation. He would most likely awaken feeling confused and disoriented before his systems could recalibrate but he was worried that the cyborg's previous aggression would come back anyway. Had it been a bad idea to not restrain him before he woke him up again? Then again, he sort of suspected the restraints he had access to here wouldn't hinder this particular cyborg for long. Hopefully it would take a while before all systems were fully back online and in that time he'd have the chance to talk to him, to keep him calm. Older and cheaper systems could typically take up to an hour to reboot fully, but he rather doubted that would be the case here. 15 minutes or so seemed like a better guess and would fit well with the most expensive and modern models he had seen at university. He tried to mentally steady himself.
In a terrifyingly short amount of time - it hadn't even been a minute - golden irises blinked to life and almost as fast, metal arms struck the table with a resounding clank, pushing his upper body up as cooling fans kicked into gear with a surprisingly menacing whirr. The previously relaxed face was now deeply scowling, irises boring right into him and teeth bared in warning. He could tell the cyborg had him locked on to him as a target and one hand was raised towards him in an obvious threat, palm open and ready to fire. Had he not been so terrified, he would have been amazed at that start-up time. He gulped and spoke a bit extra loud, just in case.
"H-hey. Already awake? So, um, I fixed your neck for you. I take it you can move alright again?" He hoped beyond hope that the Demon Cyborg would remember that he was a hero and heroes didn't typically attack medical staff no matter how pissed they were. Fortunately for him, that did seem to be the case, as the cyborg slowly, very slowly, lowered his arm again, letting it close into a relaxed fist. His facial features softened somewhat but his usual frown was still evident on his face. He then seemed to consider the technician's words more closely and lifted the same hand to prod at his neck, producing a disgruntled "tch" sound as he did so. A little bit of a static-y noise escaped from the still open gash. His hand continued to travel around his neck and throat before reaching the end of the tear, at the front, close to where his organic adam's apple would have been.
"I haven't touched your voicebox. It's... not my area of expertise and I didn't want to ruin anything. I, uh, I've never seen anything like you before. I wish I knew who made you!"
He couldn't help but let some excitement sneak into his voice at the last bit and gave a nervous smile as the cyborg eyed him warily. He then lifted his other hand to look at instead, flexing each finger individually, noting the damage done to it. His face was impassive as he did so. If you looked very carefully, you could make out the tiniest flashing specks in those golden irises as he moved the appendage before him. Likely reading the full damage reports, now that his neural interface was evidently already back in action and fully connected with the rest of his body. So fast, damn. He wondered if his systems would alert the cyborg to his feeble attempts at breaking into them to learn more about him. He sincerely hoped they wouldn't.
"So... um, yeah. If you want, I can fix your hand for you as well. If that's what you want. I'm... sorry about before, alright? It was the only way to move you and you really needed to be fixed up..."
The broken hand was gingerly put back down on the table and the cyborg turned to look at him again. He shook his head slowly and stood up, back straight and shoulders squared, no sign of his body needing to calibrate his balance as he moved after his deep rest. Seriously, how quickly his systems were back in full gear was nothing short of amazing. He had been in deep repair mode for hours, and he was already up and ready to go in a couple of minutes? Whoever built him was a frickin' genius, he had never seen anything like it.
"Metal Knight didn't build you, did he?" he asked tentatively, jumping in surprise as the cyborg next to him whipped around, all but snarling at him. Okay, that was evidently a sore spot, for some reason? He wasn't sure why it would have been, Metal Knight was typically viewed as the most skilled scientist in the field.
"Sorry... Didn't mean to offend you! Whoever it was, they really did an amazing job on you though!"
That seemed to mollify the cyborg somewhat, tense shoulders relaxing just the tiniest bit. The Demon Cyborg, he noted, despite his cold metal exterior, was so human-like in his movements. They were so fluid and natural that despite the lack of smoothed joints or synthetic skin, he seemed more... alive... than most other cyborgs he'd seen with extensive robotic parts. He could see his nose crinkle slightly as a metal finger felt carefully along the damaged chest vent, synthetic hair falling over his considering eyes as he bent his head down to look closer at that portion of his body, mouth forming a thin line as he did so. Metal Knight's droids didn't come close to this degree of natural movement.
"The person who built you... was it... Doctor Kuseno..?"
Again those bright eyes flashed over to him, but this time they locked on with something that looked more like... pride? A blonde head bobbed, a slow nod, and the tiniest of smirks became evident on his face.
Holy shit. He was the work of that old reclusive man! Just what was he up to in that secret lab of his?!
He had had many other questions, but the cyborg evidently had no time for them. Shortly after that, he had simply walked out of his office, a hand slowly waving good bye the only response to his barricade of questions. Could he take him to dr. Kuseno? Tell him anything about him? Let him know he was (suddenly) a big fan? Have him send him his autograph?!
Oh, well. Demon Cyborg - Genos - was gone, just like that. And he himself was still alive, despite the murder in the other's eyes upon their first encounter. He truly was an amazing piece of machinery, no way around it. He was pretty certain his body was different from any other cyborg in the world - he didn't resemble anything he'd read about, even if the basic framework was the same the specific details had been modified in completely new ways. And what exactly powered that core? Cold fusion? He so wished he'd gotten more answers out of the guy!
He had spent the rest of his afternoon sitting in his office. Just thinking, a small smile on his lips. He had a medical record to fill out, but he felt like waiting just a bit longer. Just, let him go over everything once more in his head first...
***
About a week later, to his surprise there was mail waiting for him when he got home. No return address on the envelope. He had sat down after dinner to read it, not knowing what to expect. Only to gasp in shock upon reading the carefully hand-written words.
Thank you for aiding Genos after his most recent fight. Everything in good order again. He tells me you are an admirer of my work and requested that I send our thanks.
If Genos requires medical aid in the future, please contact the B-rank hero known as Caped Baldy for further assistance.
Good luck with your work within the cybernetics and robotics field. Our field requires more people of your caliber.
Kind regards,
dr. Kuseno
He held the letter close to his chest, in silent shock. It was true, then, Demon Cyborg was the work of the mysterious dr. Kuseno. And he had written to him. Him! And... thanked him. And Genos had thanked him, too? Sort of, anyway? He felt immensely pleased, this was beyond anything he could have hoped for, something he would treasure for as long as he would live...
...Wait. Caped Baldy?!