Stacks staggered out across the corridor, shaking his head violently and clawing at the air. His heavy cybernetic arms crashed through racks of discarded equipment, smashing them to the ground. The man cast around, swinging back and forth, as if he had been thrown into a pit of horrors that only he could see. “No, no, no,” he cried, tears running down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t do it, oh no, no, please, no…” For a brief moment his wild gaze crossed Jensen’s and he saw the panic in Stacks’s eyes, the blank lack of recognition, the all-consuming shock and horror. “The blood, all the blood, make it stop, please!” At Jensen’s side, Pritchard was fumbling for a weapon, a Buzzkill stun gun unfolding as he dragged it from a pocket in his hoodie. “Wait!” Jensen pushed him away before the hacker could draw a bead. “Don’t shoot!” “He’s lost his mind!” Pritchard shouted back. “Just back off, damn it!” Jensen gave him another hard shove and deliberately put himself in the line of fire.
