"A slave in soul and to hold no strong control over our own wills." Shockwave rattles and buckles to his knees digging into the yielding pavement heated and soft by the dead fires. The political episode which affected Shelley bleeding into his thoughts finding context in the conversation which he could barely anchor his own thoughts to.

Plating tight and crowded close over jointed parts that grated metal against metal with chassis that shivered. His right unbroken hand raked through the ground as he gripped hard for some purchase to hold him to this fleeting moment of clarity.

"I cannot function like this."