[ Prestor is so absorbed in his disturbing task that the shattered glass doesn't even catch his attention; scoping out the circuitry is what occupies it instead, an oozing darkness teasing at where flesh meets polymer, wrapping around the nuts and bolts of joints and implants. He's overpowered his fair share of men and machines, but never a mixture between the two, never one who straddled the boundary in so fascinating a fashion. There was potential here, just as he suspected, a living weapon, a toy at his disposal. He can't help the sick grin that follows, the way his nails turn to claws and grind into the table at the endless prospects filling his own mind. A beautiful, terrible, disgusting thing had walked into his den, and now it was his, his, his to play with. To break and to destroy.

Finally. ]

You are not lost, Adam. [ Something sparks behind his lenses, distorts the HUD for a second or two. ] In fact, I'd go as far to say you're thinking more clearly than ever. You've realized your position in this game. In this war.

[ Don't make this difficult.

I can make it very difficult.

Painful claws clamp down on his back, though no one's touching him. A steady force from within. Crushing. Breaking. Squeezing, though nothing is truly there. ]

It is to help me recreate this world as it should be. As it must be. There is no higher calling, no higher purpose than this. You should be honored to be part of it.

[ The broken pieces of the glass begin to lift, propelled by magic, hovering in the air as daggerlike shards. Prestor's tone has changed from its usual allure to a grating hiss, one that is impossible to ignore, drown out. ]

Pledge me your service. Your sword. Your life.

Pledge yourself to me, and you will be rewarded beyond measure.