Chapter 139 – A Gap in the Armor
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Lila's surgery was supervised by Psychosoldier's most trusted doctor, Dr. Goldin. He was assisted by a team of three Black Glove psychic material experts, a nurse anesthetist, and four surgical technicians. They replaced Lila's enitre digestive system in one enormous, fiendishly complex operation. Lila felt little pain during the procedure, which lasted well into the night. But she was vaguely aware of Dr. Goldin standing over her, touching her... and the immense shadow of Psychosoldier's aura as he watched from behind a pane of glass.

Lila woke up late the next morning, thirsty and very tired. She was wearing a bright pink hospital gown and a diaper. Inside her left arm, there was a needle attached to a hose which was pumping some kind of transparent yellow liquid inside her. A monitor beside the bed beeped quietly, displaying a falling number. 184... 176... 156...

She felt a vague, uncomfortable itching in her stomach. Her new stomach. Folded neatly inside her abdomen, attached to her new set of psychically enhanced intestines. Lila scratched at her belly and a wave of nausea passed over her. She retched and hacked, but nothing came. Just a dry, raw sensation inside her throat.

Her new carefully crafted organs made of steel and synthetic polymers and psychic crystals throbbed beneath her flesh and bone, sending bizarre electrical signals out through her nerves. She couldn't tell if she was in pain or not.

"Hee hee... I'm more like Psychosoldier now..."

With her new enhancements, Lila's metabolism was capable of running ten times faster or slower, as well as absorbing nutrients far more efficiently. There was a tank filled with gaseous psychic helium located within the folds of her small intestine which was capable of storing immense quantities of psychic energy for later use. She could consume plastic, glass, or metal without consequence, filter any known poison out of her system in seconds, synthesize any variety of hormone or neurotransmitter at will...

"Psycho... soldier..."

Lila murmured to herself, staring up at the blank white walls and feeling drowsy. She listened to the beeping and droning around her, letting her eyes drift shut once more.

Through the haze of waking dreams, she saw the room grow dark and the shadows dance. Formless shapes scattered and gathered together again, crawling over the ceiling and the walls.

In the corner, something massive moved. Its booming voice broke through the darkness. A reverberating, hollow voice that sounded like the noise of thunder playing through a speaker far, far away.

"Hello, Lila. The operation was a success."
"What?" she mumbled sleepily, drifting in and out of consciousness. "Psychosoldier? Is that you?"

"Indeed. How are you feeling?"

"Tired," she yawned, stretching her arms above her head. Every part of her body ached. "But good. Except for my stomach. I think I need to eat something. Or drink something. Can I have something to drink? I'm so thirsty."

"I brought you a glass of apple juice. Sit up."

Lila groaned as she lifted her head. The juice tasted terrible. Metallic and sweet. It didn't quench her thirst at all.

"Ugh."
"Drink slowly."

"Okay..."
"Dr. Goldin has recommended you stay with us for the next three days to ensure the success of your transplant..."

The room spun again. Lila shuddered.

"... and the nurse will be here any minute now to change your diaper. Some level of leakage is expected to continue for the next two months as your body adjusts."

Psychosoldier spoke with little regard for the Witch of Darkness's dignity as the head of a criminal organization and her position as a person in distress. He was the only person she would ever let talk to her like this. 

"There is a low possibility of rejection. Watch for bloody stool and cramping. You should also check yourself frequently in the mirror for discolored skin or other unusual changes."

A small sound came from Lila, somewhere in the back of her throat. It wasn't clear if it had actually been a cough or a sob. Psychosoldier gently stroked her cheek with a sharp, cold clawed finger, his mechanical gaze still boring holes into her eyes.

He was so big and strong and smart... and, and... scary...! The giant machine with those black claws and those cold red eyes and those thick plates of armor and that visible brain.... he was inhuman in a way that sent a thrill running down her spine. Psychosoldier carried with him a sense of fundamental wrongness, like Lila was looking straight at a tiger that could tear her to shreds any second. And yet she couldn't stop smiling, couldn’t stop staring into Psychosoldier’s glass eyes as the lights inside flashed on and off erratically.

"Why are you... so nice to me?"

She felt a pang of guilt as soon as the words escaped her lips. A low, chugging sound came from deep within Psychosoldier's heavy, armored chest. It almost sounded like a chuckle.

"Perhaps it is a weakness of mine, Lila. I have never been able to resist a pretty face."

Lila tried to sit up, but only managed to lift her torso an inch or two off the bed. She let out a sigh, and collapsed back into her pillow. Psychosoldier tucked her in.

"I will be back later today, Lila. Try not to move too much. Press the button on the wall if anything happens and one of our nurses will come to check on you immediately."
"Don't worry about me. I'll be back to normal in no time..."

Lila turned her head just enough to look at him one last time. She smiled softly at him through her eyelashes, then closed them tightly to keep him in her mind. She fell back to sleep in an instant. Psychosoldier lightly patted her arm and left the room as silently as he came, closing the door behind him.

She was so much like his lost love... she was so much like Alouette. So very similar. The two were terrible engines of destruction in the bodies of skinny, lonely, tormented girls. But while Alouette resisted him, Lila was compliant in the face of a superior will. She seemed to thrive under his care like a cat that loved being petted by its owner.

Yes, she was more obedient than Alouette, more pliable than Alouette, more beautiful, more cheerful, more curious, more ruthless, more interesting...

But Lila wasn't Alouette. Alouette was gone. Alouette was dead. All that was left of her was a vague memory, a shadow in his soul, a whisper of a person who had existed briefly before disappearing forever.

"Oh Lila, how I wish you'd come to me sooner... then, poor Alouette would have never had to suffer as she did..."

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