"...analysis, and operation." Mithias repeated. He felt the delicate touch of a diamond-cut edge against his head, and he was afraid. Mithias swallowed hard. There are simply no words to describe the feeling he had; to have ones very brain, the housing of one's soul, in the hands of an adversary, and to be able to do nothing about it. It was like being naked before god. He couldn't break free of his leather bonds. He couldn't summon up his power, as it was too weak and to difficult to concentrate. As it was, one slight slip during surgery could leave his mind destroyed or who knows what permanent ill affects. He froze, breathing and heartrate elevated. There was nothing he could no. No one who could intervene. He was terrified that BIOPilot's definition of "recuperation" might be different from his own. Mithias tried to calm himself with logic. BIOPilot had said this was the preferred method, that it would nullify additional affects. If he hadn't been given the antidote already, then perhaps it was too late for him anyway. Hadn't he expected to be dead by now? Besides, BIOPilot was a machine, a computer, and as such would have no emotional drive for revenge... yet Mithias had his doubts. As the whirring of the sawblade started, Mithias thought at first to plea with the machine to stop, to not do this, that he would rather deal with whatever damage the toxin would do to him than submit his very being to Jack's creation's knife. But he held his tongue and relented. It was a hard thing to do. A slight trembling in his voice, he spoke, "I submit, Terebithia." No other creation in the world could have ever been such a perfect surgeon. 

Mithias gritted his teeth as the blades sliced his skin and cut open his skull. It hurt, but he had felt worse. It was fear for the state of his brain mostly that kept him still. He cried out briefly, just as the blade finally finished its section. His knuckles were white as he gripped the table, and his body was tense like a steel beam. If only he could have been lucky enough to pass out. He wouldn't feel any pain from anything done directly to his brain, but it was very disconcerting. He kept silent. He was BIOPilot's project now. He pleaded with whatever god that could hear his thoughts that his mind would not be destroyed.