A New Arm

The next thing I remember was being held in someone's arms as they carried me. I was only awake for a few seconds, not enough to get a look at the person's face. I recall seeing the space where my arm used to be wrapped tightly in cloth before I was unconscious again. There were… flashes when I would wake up for brief moments. All I could feel was searing pain. I screamed and kicked. I just wanted it to stop. Pieces of metal pinned me down.

"Quit squirming, dumbass! Ya just gotta hang on a little longer, alright? …I promise."

I blacked out again. I'd like to hope that I'll die in a similar way someday. Preferably, there would be less pain, but if I could just slip away into the darkness with no more worries or hopes to ride on... I hope that's how Tată died. It's naïve of me, I know, but a girl can dream.

Some time passed before I woke for good. Once I coaxed my eyes open and my vision cleared, I was able to get my bearings; I was back in Heisenberg's factory, lying on the couch in his office. I shifted and felt a heavy fabric move against my skin. Heisenberg's coat was laid across my body. Luckily, my brain was too addled to register the nauseating stench of nicotine that clung to everything that man owned. The optimist in me believed Heisenberg was trying to comfort me, but the realist said he just didn't know where else to put it. Then again, I had never seen him anywhere without it. If he was willing to leave it behind…

I sat up from the couch and slipped the coat around my shoulders. For the first time in that giant metal heat box, I was freezing. Something was... fundamentally wrong (aside from Heisenberg's presumed selfless act and my change in temperature). Then I remembered: my arm. Lady Dimitrescu had sliced it clean off. But somehow… I felt it moving. A bead of sweat ran down my back as I "moved" my left arm. I gasped when I saw it. A chill ran up my spine.

My "fingers" looked like miniature pistons, my "veins" a mess of wires. The "bones" were all steel, a cage enclosing this… imitation of what I lost. I was scared to even think. I didn't want to see it move. I didn't want to imagine how this contraption had been attached to my body. I couldn't decide if it was better or worse than living without an arm at all. I hadn't even been asked if this was what I wanted; that seemed to be the theme of my life. Tears formed in my eyes. The pain was coming back. All I could think, over and over, was "why me"? Why did I have to be the one to have their arm chopped off? Why did I have to deal with Miranda's "Lords"? Why did I have to be outfitted with such an abomination of things I'd never had to deal with at home?

Home… I was grateful that at least Mamă hadn't seen me in such a state. At home, she wouldn't have had the means to take care of me. I probably would've just bled to death and made her suffer watching another person she loved die. If it were that or being forced to work in a stuffy factory with a man who could manufacture an arm with seemingly little notice, I would take the latter.

Mamă… I squandered the chance to tell you when I saw you, just before I was taken to Castle Dimitrescu. I still didn't know what you had planned for me, why you really sent me away with Heisenberg, but that didn't matter. I only wanted to tell you what I was willing to go through, what I was willing to give up, to make my wish come true. Knowing you, you would have brushed my words aside, insisted that safety was your responsibility, not mine. But I should've said it anyway. I was too scared. What a fool I was.

Ah, I've digressed again. Where was I? Yes, the new arm. The way I saw it, there were two options: demand Heisenberg remove it or deal with it.

"Alright… I'll give you 24 hours," I muttered. For the sake of testing, I wiggled the "arm's" fingers, trying to mimic the movements of my real hand. It was surprisingly accurate. I found myself in awe of its uncanniness, but my weariness remained. I wouldn't change my mind that easily. The only thing to do was find Heisenberg.

I rose with his coat still around me. Blood painted the table across the room. Gauze draped on its edge and spilled onto the floor. Next to the table, a desk housed a burning lamp and a note sitting in the center. I picked up the note with my real arm, noticing a drop of blood sullying the corner of the paper before I read.

I found her. She was in a hell of a mess though. I had to ward off that enormous bitch, but I got her. Bringing the bike along was the right call. I wouldn't have made it back in time. The kid's arm was sliced off right in front of me, but somehow, I managed to keep her alive. She's tougher than she looks.

I managed to scrape something together for her. Hopefully, it's just as useful as the original. Damn. I didn't think I'd actually be relieved to have her back...

I stared at the note in disbelief. I must've read it ten times. He had been looking for me since I disappeared. But why? I was just an assistant to him, nothing more. I had been certain that he would either let me die if I was careless or simply dispose of me once he found no further use for me. The last line… felt out of place. But why would he lie in his own writing? He… he missed me.

My perspective changed. I no longer felt the biting resentment towards the metal arm. For the first time, I felt that maybe, just maybe, he saw me as more than a tool.

My mind was made up. I had to see him. How would he be: distraught? Cool and collected? Overjoyed? I could only guess. They say that Germans aren't predisposed to emotional vulnerability. Heisenberg was a good subject for that theory.

I found him in another room, leaned back against a chair, a cigar perched between his lips. He was staring out a window. I almost felt bad interrupting whatever thoughts raced through his mind. I dared to knock.

His face turned. A grin surfaced as he released a puff of smoke. "Ah, sleeping beauty has awoken! And not too worse for wear. Must've been a hell of a nap."

I stepped closer and removed his coat before reaching it out to him with my right arm. "I think this is yours."

He stayed seated as he took it from me and gave a tip of his hat. He reached across the table and handed me a bowl. "Hungry?"

It was a rice dish with chicken and vegetables intermixed. It looked surprisingly good. It was the first meal within the factory that I didn't have to make myself. I never thought Heisenberg to be a man with culinary talent. He had more tricks up his sleeve than I thought. Either that or he bought it from Duke. No matter: I was just happy I didn't have to cook.

"Thank you," I said meekly as my stomach growled. He pulled out the chair next to him. I accepted the invitation, not sure how to act. I put the spoon in my real hand. There were so many things I wanted to ask, but I didn't know where to begin. So, I focused on my food, barely chewing between mouthfuls. Heisenberg just watched me with a smirk as he took another drag from his cigar.

Once I was halfway done, I took a break to catch my breath. I veiled my mouth with my hand as I asked, "How long was I out?"

"Three days," Heisenberg answered. "For a while there, I thought you had the plague, you were shivering so bad."

Three days? How could I have slept that long? It felt like only an hour ago when I was fearing for my life. After another few bites, I asked my next question:

"How did you make… this?" I lifted my fake arm, daring to move its fingers. Heisenberg grinned at his work.

"It just takes a bit of genius, nothing special."

" 'It's just wires and screws'?"

Heisenberg chuckled. "Fine, fine. I managed to attach the machinery to your arm's nerves. It took a bit of finesse and improvisation, but I'd say it turned out all right."

"Come on. There's no way you improvised attaching a metal arm to my… nerves." At the time, I knew nothing of anatomy. I didn't understand a word of what he was saying. Who was I to question him? But from what I was hearing, he had to be more than an engineer. Only a surgeon would have such extensive knowledge of the human body.

He just stared at me, taking one last puff before twisting the end of his cigar into a black spot on the table. "Let's just say I've had some practice."

I decided to drop the issue. There were other questions to address. "And all that floating metal back at the castle?"

Heisenberg lifted his hand. Gears on the floor started to shake and float. They spun around his hand while my eyes fixated on them. Heisenberg just smirked. After a few moments, he flattened his hand to let the gears rest in his palm. They were dead, inanimate objects once again.

"How… How did you do that?" I managed to ask.

Heisenberg shrugged. "A little… 'perk' of being Miranda's 'son'."

I shuddered as I remembered the flash of Lady Dimitrescu's claws. Miranda had endowed her "children" with such terrifying abilities… and for what? For the first time, I was beginning to believe that maybe everything she preached wasn't a scam. At least Heisenberg had the decency to hide his "gift" from me until the eleventh hour. Because of his restraint, I wasn't scared. I didn't feel any more threatened by him than I already had. But the other Lords… I didn't want to imagine what the rest of them could do. Unfortunately, I would find out the hard way… eventually.

I finished the last of my food as Heisenberg rose and put his coat on. He cleared his throat.

"Given the circumstances, I'm giving you the rest of the day off. But come daybreak tomorrow, you better be ready." He spoke nonchalantly, as if he were challenging me. I smiled as he turned for the door.

"Wait."

I stood from my seat. Heisenberg stopped and looked over his shoulder. How could I have forgotten the question that burned the most in my mind?

"Why did you save me? …I mean… you could've just left me to die."

Silence hung in the air. My heart thudded against my chest.

He smiled. "Yeah, but I didn't wanna replace you."

He left, leaving me to stand there dumbfounded. That was the first sign that my wish was in danger.