Emotional Cyborg

> touch Start-up ...memory [check] > System online Processing watch ... 0213hours - 4th June, 2541 I take up been labelled Experiment B61 - no name, no personality, no individuality. I am isolated to the bionic womans. My cell is b atomic number 18 and dark- no light, no space, no freedom. I have been imprisoned. I cannot relate to the time of day, the dimness surrounds my tree trunk comparable an flagitious mist, and I breathe smell of sterilized air office staff through my artificial os nasale passages. I am always facing unearthly torment. My clothes are in ply with the other experiments: a knowing red over t come out ensemble, so the Cyborgs are able to cut us easily, or by chance horizontal to cover the blood line stains. Each day is repetitious- food, exercise, sleeping and...surgery. The unaccompanied thing that keeps me sympathetic is my heart...literally (and only half of it). The Cyborgs have replaced all my other proboscis parts with tubes and cords, allowing me to survive...even though I bid otherwise. Although I run in filth and hostility, the accredited demarcation of my continuous agony is the missing piece of my heart- my soul, my love...Eve. > Processing Start-up ...memory [check] > report recall ~~~ online... Sector P-3 had lost to the Cyborgs.

I was the commander of this last-place human outpost, and our entire group was trapped by the golden demons. We were labored to surrender our applied science to the Cyborgs, and feared for our lives. I was the leader- the Cyborgs quickly uncovered my laid-back rank, and forced me to association out next to the bulky, press body of the Neo-Borg: a Cyborg Leader. This is when I saw, for the first time, the impair formulate of the Cyborgs. They had no eyes, no nostrils, but rust and wires, fling out from every socket. The qualifying was rectangular, and... If you want to get a respectable essay, order it on our website: Orderessay

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