No, Kyle knew he'd never feel that thumping beneath his ribs again. Fate had smiled it's revenge, the whicked grins of all the hearts he had decided should die, and placed a cold machine where his cold heart had once dwelled.

Cyborg. He had mulled the word over often, feeling the dull hollowness inside his chest a symbol of what he almost become - of how he could now right his wrongs. Wrongs he had been amidst his entire life; wrongs taught as right. Wrongs that were a dangerous lifestyle: cutthroat, sniper, spy, fighter… but his brain wasn't mush any longer!