"So, alive," he said, understanding her meaning now. He was "normal " because he was alive. That wasn't normal for cyborgels. His brow furrowed at the thought, feeling there wasn't something quite right with the statement. After all hadn't that creature from earlier been a cyborgel? Yet she didn't act like one, no more than he was.

He winced as a headache throbbed. Closing his eyes he began to wonder new things he hasn't before. Like why he was made out of flesh. The newer models weren't. He saw chief looking online at them...

[i]Chief's back was turned, only the light from her computer illuminating the room. She had told him to clean the barracks, and after long hours of toiling, he had finally finished. Putting the rags away, he turned to see chief hunched over her computer, clacking away at her keys.

"Chief, can I get you anything? he asked as he approached the computer, his eyes catching what she was looking at. Chief didn't turn around, grunting coffee.[/i]

A feeling of sadness washed over him as he realized why he had been left in the ally. He had been thrown away, no longer useful. Honestly he wasn't sure why he was functioning considering his injuries.

"Why was I made with flesh?" he asked to no one in particular.