WIP.

WIP.

WIP.

Year 2097. Humanity has transcended its biological limitations. Mortality is no longer a concern; pain has been eradicated, and complete muscular control is now innate. The human form has achieved perfection, no longer bound by fragility. Within the confines of a sleek, half-shield-shaped bed, a man rests in undisturbed slumber. Suddenly, an intense burning sensation erupts within his eyes. Agony far beyond anything previously conceived by human experience. There is only void left. Yet, the void is not null. It is inhabited. There is something there: a presence, a being not meant to be perceived by the human eye. And yet, he perceives it. "It burns!" he screams, his voice filled with unendurable torment, as his body and existence disintegrates into ash..

WIP.

Headache. A sharp, stinging pain that sits right behind the eye, pulling at your face as if a tiny black hole has formed there, dragging everything inward. It’s the kind of pain that makes your whole face, melt into your eye socket. Or maybe you're just about to go insane, who knows?

WIP.

WIP.

WIP.

The air at Korbit's CybNet manufacturing facility was thick with toxic biogas, a noxious byproduct of their relentless BIO-Robotics Implant production. The man doubled over, vomiting a stream of deep purple fluid that splattered across his exposed veins. His skin had begun to melt away, revealing a tangle of blue and violet wires from his eye. Beneath his skin, the veins across his torso pulsed raw, swollen, and moments from rupture.

WIP.