Breakthrough

(The next diary entry is written with poor handwriting, as if someone had been writing with their non-dominant hand.)

Holyfuckholyfuckholyfuck I DID IT!

I grew a new arm! I took the formula and I grew a new arm and I'm writing with it right now and holy shit this was risky but I don't care because it worked and I GREW A NEW ARM!

This is incredible. I mean, I knew this would be incredible, that's why I did it! But this is so, so much better than I could have dreamed.

I gotta tell someone. I gotta call Gwe

(The sentence cuts off. The entry resumes a few spaces down the page.)

She's not answering her phone.

That's...that's fine. She probably just needs a little more time. I'll just leave her a message.

And I need to be responsible, anyway. Make sure there's no side effects.

I'll just do some basic tests. Try drawing with it. Squeezing a ball.

Maybe masturbate with it. Yeah.

For science.

(Another sketch of a salamander, but less refined than the first.)