One last machine, tucked away somewhere. Probably somewhere horrible, somewhere they wouldn't think to look. Not out in the open, but inside something.

And then, as if on cue, Felix jerked, twitched back to life. While Locus's gaze followed Tucker as he trotted away, to York as he scoured the surroundings, one hand reached across the fleshy ground to pull himself back towards the lower half of his body. Sinew and tissue stretched to knit himself back together...

His shattered chest-piece fell away as he pulled himself upright, bones and joints snapping back into place, vertebrae reattaching. Without that plating of armor there? The thrumming glow of the machine was visible through the tears in the weave of the bodysuit.

Click-click-click went the chains threaded through Locus's limbs, as he started to shuffle after Tucker. Hovering just behind him, and every now and then his limbs quivering with the effort to not make a grab for him. But blood was now damn near soaking him from his various wounds, and it was clear that time was winding its way down.

His bulk, meanwhile, was enough to hide Felix as he made his approach one last time, pausing only to bend low and collect his knife along the way.