His lungs-? No, no, he doesn't need those anymore, does he? [the pair of them are so monstrous now, so inhuman in ways both good and terrible. The dream feeds into this, Viktor's hands suddenly made of the shimmer-purple metal of his transformed state.

He holds firmly to Arcade's hand in his with a creak of mechanical tendons. Viktor's muttering with increased tension and the kind of obsessiveness common to scientists mad gone on their own ambitions-]

If he does... I can replace those as well. Along with his heart. Engineer something better for him, something not so frail. Bringing him back was the difficult part- anything else is much easier, wouldn't you say, doctor?