Victor woke up vibrating.
Not shivering. Vibrating. A low-frequency hum in the marrow of his femur. He stared at the ceiling of the repurposed shipping container. The rust patterns looked like fractals. They were moving. Spiraling inward.
He closed his eyes. The spirals remained, burned into the back of his eyelids in neon green.
"Industrial Overdose," he whispered. His voice sounded like gravel grinding in a cement mixer. "Too much efficacy."
The Abyssal Corn. It wasn't food. It was a battery. He felt charged, over-volted, his nerves singing with a chemically induced anxiety that felt suspiciously like divine inspiration. He sat up. The motion made the air smear.
Iron-Jaw was already awake. The cyborg sat in the corner, stripping a husk with mechanical precision. The leaves parted wi
