[i]'Air flowing, dust particles in the air, casual breathing; oxygen goes in, carbon dioxide comes out. Hearts beating, fingers tapping, eyes blinking. So. Loud.'[/i] 

Cade visibly seemed to wince as the noises in his environment blared in his ears, catching the attention of a few onlookers (who promptly looked away after noticing [i]who[/i] he was). Clenching his synthetic hand, a distinct [i]whirring[/i] sound accompanying the motion as servos locked, 'joints' moved into place, squeezing hard. Had he still organic arms, he would feel a slight ache arise from the pressure...but now it was like he felt almost nothing. The Nightmare Protocol ensured that pain would be a passing nuisance, and thus limited how much he could feel. Never had he wished for pain as much as he did right now. 

Inclining his head downward, Cade shut his eyes tightly in an attempt to clear away the noises, but they just wouldn't leave...too much. [i]'Focus...must focus...make the world smaller.'[/i] Cade told himself inwardly, echoing the words that were given to him by the United Front's military psychologist upon awakening from surgery. New implants, heightened senses....overload. 

Now trying to take control of his own head, Cade struggled desperately to focus, choosing to look at his hands clasped together...silver, steel plated, [i]unreal[/i] Focusing as much attention as he could, Cade felt the noises slowly began to fade away into the recesses of his mind. It would take a few days to adjust, he was told. But he [i]would[/i] adjust. He just hoped it would be soon. 

The others on the train remained deathly silent, fearful that saying something could perhaps anger the Nightmare. Sure, they were notified of Squad N3's formation beforehand, and went through a course on a Nightmare's psychology and behavior, that they were no different from regular humans....but that was a lot of shit to swallow. How could one look upon a 'man', half-made of metal and say he was 'no different'? Before them wasn't a man...but a masked monster, whose cold eyes bored holes into their defenses, cold, [i]artificial[/i] eyes. 

Soon the train lurched to a halt, rattling on the track slightly as personnel and soldier alike moved into action to keep their equipment from falling. Except Cade, who sat as still as a statue, slowly rising to his feet to gather his equipment. 

The rest of the passengers awaited silently, watching with expressions of curiosity, fear, and wariness as Cade slowly made his way off the car and into the main body of the base...Gios Vulpes. 

Stepping onto the conveyor walkway, Cade hoisted his duffle bag over his shoulder, not even regarding the weight of the bag as he did so; his augmentations too strong to even register this as weight. 

As soon as the conveyor stopped, Cade stepped off, taking a few moments to look around his surroundings before once again reading the directions to the barracks that were part of the manual implanted into his brain. They stored information in him like a flash drive, the alterations to his brain synchronizing with his prosthetic eyes to give him a HUD-like display when he needed...felt like a damn first-person shooter. Nevertheless, Cade didn't seem to react, aside from the still-narrowing of his eyes; those passing by unsure if it was pain, anger, or tension....perhaps all three. 

Stepping into the elevator to the barracks, Cade closed his eyes, and waited for the journey to be over...