Knox was only able to maintain his composure and loyalties for another fifteen minutes. Which was fortunate for Domison, because the man doubted his target of interrogation would have lasted for much longer. The once almost monstrously large man was now a shadow of his former self. His rippling muscles had been reduced to an emaciated state, so much so that the cybernetic prosthetic had dislodged itself from his shoulder, no longer able to maintain its intricate fitting. Knox was now practically a ghost, eyelids fluttering and skin ghastly pale. Shredded lips whispered a single term over and over, "MB-01… MB-01…"
"What does that mean…?" Mel asked Domison hesitantly. For a moment he didn't answer, collecting his thoughts and formulating his next steps before responding. He would have to go back to their makeshift compound and regain his strength, but then… Then he could go tear down that abhorrent organization, they didn't deserve to see the end of this tutorial.
