Donald looked up, he could hear screaming. It was common around here, but that voice, that sound. Whoever was screaming was in more pain than anyone should ever bare. Donald looked back down as the screaming continued, and he worked on his mechanical hand. But, that scream followed him. Its sound echoing inside his head. He knew what they were doing here, and he had signed up for it.

Donald felt weak next to mutants, and when he was in control, he didn't feel weak. His hand also made him feel less weak. He didn't hate mutants, he hated that they had something he couldn't.