And then some.

After a short time spent flopping around on my bed like some sort of dying fish, I had decided that, just maybe, Eve had the better idea of things. I was still too tired for the kind of "training" I had done last night, but still, I wanted to at least ask about something. After making my way down the hall, and tapping on the newly fashioned steel door to Eve's room, it quickly shoots open; sliding swiftly down and into the ground, rather than swinging in or out as most doors do. The room was... well, it was little more than a metal broom closet; a place where Eve could just stand still, in total darkness, waiting.

"Are we proceeding with urge training?" She asks, her screen flicking too a beating heart-shape.

I sigh, rubbing at my now blushing cheeks. "I was actually going to ask about Mind Delving..."

"Ah." The Compuro's screen flashes to a simple smile. "Well, I suppose it would be fine to go ahead with simple Mind Delving treatment. Where would you like to begin? Your amnesia? Your psychosis? Maybe even your odd limp when you walk sometimes?"

"My what!?" I look down to my legs, taking an experimental trip around the hall; indeed, I dragged my right leg in a slightly odd manner if I wasn't actively thinking of my movements, despite no physical need to do so. "How long have I been doing this!?"

"It was in Sister Priscilla's oldest notes about your behavior; notes taken when you first met, I believe." Eve says, grabbing me by the hand, and dragging me toward my room. "I'm sure we can figure that out; oh, this is going to be such fun!"

I'm practically tossed back into my bed; the door closed, with Eve leaving her cloak on the outside door-handle. Dart wormed her way up and around the Compuro, leaping onto my bed, and skittering her way onto a pillow I wasn't using. My Clinician moved the pillow over to the floor, pushing it under the bed. She then grabs the chair from my desk, placing it by my bed.

"First, we must choose what it is we wish to focus on for today's treatment." Eve says; her face turning into a check-list.

The list was the following: Amnesia, Limp, Psychosis, Weak-Grip, Eye-Twitch, and Kleptomania.

"What the... I don't have a weak grip; I'm the physically strongest person in our group." I huff, squeezing both fists... the right one; it was a bit less clenched than the left.

My right eye twitches as Eve pokes me on the forehead, saying. "You may have simply missed these oddities, due to them being so deeply ingrained to your original psyche. Your right leg ever so slightly limps, your right handed grip is around ninety-five percent as strong as it should be, and your right eye twitches when stressed. According to Sister Priscilla's notes, in your past life, you had been seriously injured; correct?"

My spine shudders. "Well... yes. But, there's no way I've been missing all of these... ticks. You have to be pulling my leg."

The Compuro's voice crackles slightly as she sighs. "My third patient, a Troll, had lost both of her arms in a conflict with the Fae Courts of Lunari. Trolls, as a Verdure-Family Monster, can regenerate any severed limbs... however, her opponent had used very potent Death Magics; negating her regenerative power for almost a year. Ever since she regained her arms, she would have odd ticks; wiggling her fingers, her grip weakening at random, or even fully uncontrollable muscle spasms. All while she didn't even notice."

Sitting on my bed, she takes a hold of my right arm, setting it into a ninety-degree angle, and running her fingers slowly across each tendon.

She continues her words. "This is something known as Z.L.S, or Zombie Limb Syndrome; an offshoot of the more well known Phantom-Limb Syndrome. It is a disorder one gains from going long periods without a functional limb, before suddenly attaining one. It is for this reason that prosthetics, or regenerative magics, are considered the highest priority for veteran healers of both the Light and Dark. Imagine, if you will, a skilled Monk of incredible power, randomly spasming out a leg capable of kicking massive dents into foot-thick steel. Now imagine he is in a town square, meeting friends at a tavern, or seeing his children at their school..."

Eve closes my fist, before opening each finger slowly; then repeating the process. "How long were you without a right arm, Monster."

"Two years." I answer; almost mesmerized by her delicate examination. "At least, as far as I know."

She nods. "I presume you had a prosthetic, at least. Otherwise, you would have at least had one spasm by now."

"Yes, but nothing like what Zana has; far more simple. No moveable fingers." I reply.

"What of your leg?" Eve asks, moving her gentle touch over to the limb in question. "Severed, or crippled?"

"Crushed. Burned. I had a brace... before you ask; my right eye was gone, too." I feel my stomach turn at remembering the details of my past-life; unlike when the flashes of memories came, where I at least learned more of who I was, this was just a recounting of pain.

"Would you like to know how many of my own parts are replacements?" She asks, ceasing her movements. "I've noticed it's easier to speak of old wounds, if you know mine."

I adjust myself more upright on the bed. "Sure."

Eve taps her screen with one finger. "My 'face' is a good place to start. Early in my life, only twenty or so years after I was constructed, I had joined up with a small Bandwidth of Compuro; that's what we call our war bands, to be clear. My skills as a natural-born Assassin were particularly sought after; Mind Delving, in particular, is my specialty. We had captured a Soldier-Drone Hornet from a rival warband; an upstart at the time. Now, of course, she has become much more..."

"The Hornet Queen." I feel my body be pulled toward the portal of the Domain as I speak; one of my targets...

The Compuro sighs, an odd noise for her to make; given her electric voice. "Yes. Queen La'Miel... As I was saying, I attempted to search this Drone's mind for information; only to tap into the surprisingly vast hive-mind that La'Miel had grown. Something shorted out inside me, and when I came back to my own body, the plating around my head had exploded. My audio-unit, gone. My sight-sensor, gone. My face-plate, obviously gone. I was lucky that, among our other captured prisoners, there was a skilled Artisan; who grafted this old Comms-Unit to my head, in return for his own freedom."

After a short, silent break; Eve nudges me. "Now, it is your turn. How about your arm. What do you remember about it?"

I look down at the appendage; clenching my fingers slowly. "I think... I was a pianist. I'm not sure if it was a hobby, or if it was my job; but I played none the less. It must have been important to me, because one of my Others was absolutely obsessed with that part of us. I remember playing with a special prosthetic; the fingers still couldn't move, but I could twist the forearm a bit to change how many fingers touched the keys. I... I don't think I had any sort of immediate strong feelings about losing the arm, though."

My Clinician tilts her head; a question-mark displaying on her face. "Why not?"

"The accident took more than an arm, a leg, or an eye." I say, grasping at my right wrist. "It took... my fiancee. I'm sure you've seen in..."

"In the notes. Yes." Eve confirms, her screen going blank as she tries (and fails) to lie in embarrassment. "Perhaps this is too harsh of a subject for your first session. If you feel uncomfortable at any point; please do say so."

I snicker at the thought."You say that like last night didn't happen."

Several dashes light her screen. "That was... different. That was... training."

"Yes, of course." I say, smiling wide with mischievous glee. "That's why you were so happy to go for round two earlier, right? A love of training?"

"Please don't make me blow another fuse." Eve begs, covering her screen as a pounding heart displays, just as before.

"Not yet, I won't." I say, winking.

Too my surprise, jets of steam shoot out the sides of the machine-girl's head.

"Shall we continue on to the Mind-Delving session already!?"