How do you fight something in your own skin? Delta scrambles along the neural lace to assist where he can but there's so much. Too much. Bright and brilliant and burning even him- everything feels as though it would break, like the very wires where he lives might melt.

York whines, a sharp, visceral keening that's three parts pain and two parts pure obscenity- arching one last time before leaning bodily into the hand on his cheek. A point of contact. Not alone, never alone again-