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Released seal’s hiss. Claws retract. One set, another, more. Freed from the ports embedded within and between the gaps of one vertebra, another, more. Gasping, the inert corpse shuddered to life once more, born again for the thousandth time. Pale and bloodlet, shivering, feverish, sweating.
Exuvia opened as was bid. Front folded itself outward, exposing the endo and its therm to one compartment of many within a lone capsule suspended in the void.
“Howdy, Chaucer,” the homunculus greeted. “State yousself.”
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One cannot tell from this snip alone, but theoretically this would be a glimpse into an alternate Cosmere future scenario. Fanatics of the black half of the Harmonious Duality, or something. My own take on something else I’ve read on here. In this case, your answer would be ‘mostly no, the metaphor ran away from me.’ Suitably visceral, though, hopefully.
But! Call me EL James the way I could easily do away with the trappings of fanwork into something marketable. There, your answer would be ‘all is holy fusion of metal and flesh!’ Or one could go full ‘ganic, too. I am too shortsighted to see clearly.
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