William stayed pressed against the wall long after the glow had faded from his veins. His breathing came in shallow, broken pulls, each one scraping against the back of his throat, while his regenerated leg continued to twitch beneath him. He stared at it as though it belonged to someone else. The skin had already begun to seal over the stump, smooth layers of pale flesh drawing themselves together with an almost deliberate precision. He could feel nerves reconnecting beneath it, tendons tightening, muscle knitting itself into place. There should have been agony. There should have been blood. There should have been years of healing condensed into some unbearable few seconds.
Instead, there was warmth.
That frightened him more.
William looked down at his foot as the final shape began to form. Five toes slowly emerged beneath the skin, flexing one after another as though they were remembering how to move. He hadn't seen them in eleven years. He stared at them without blinking, waiting for the pain to arrive, but it never did. He lifted the leg slightly, trembling, and placed the new foot against the ground.
It held.
William nearly collapsed from the relief.
He laughed once, quietly, the sound strangled somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion. He could walk. He could actually walk. He reached for the wall and slowly pushed himself upright, putting his full weight onto the limb. Nothing broke. Nothing tore. The leg supported him as if it had always been there.
He took one step.
Then another.
His eyes began to water.
"Fuck..."
His voice cracked.
For one brief moment, the man who had spent years counting the weight of his own flesh finally saw something that looked like a future.
Three days from now, VigilNet wouldn't have to cut him open to extract the next four kilograms. His family wouldn't have to count every pill. Maria wouldn't have to divide FleshFood into portions small enough to make a child cry. Crowe wouldn't have to lie about being hungry. Archie wouldn't have to sleep through another night with an empty stomach.
He could work.
He could walk.
He could provide.
He could finally give them something back.
William leaned his head against the wall and shut his eyes.
"Maria..."
His lips trembled.
"Crowe... Archie..."
He smiled.
"This'll be enough."
A faint pulse moved beneath the skin of his new leg.
William's smile disappeared.
He looked down.
Nothing.
He waited.
Nothing.
"Muscle spasm," he muttered.
He swallowed.
"Just a muscle spasm."
Then he began walking home.
The walk back through the Limb Market felt different.
William had spent years moving through these streets on crutches, each step measured and miserable, each doorway and neon sign reminding him that his body was a thing to be sold. He had learned to ignore the stares. The pity. The disgust. The occasional envy from people who wondered what it would be like to have a body valuable enough to feed a family.
Tonight, every stare felt like an accusation.
He kept his head down.
The air was still terrible, but something about his breathing had changed. He didn't need to stop as often. His chest no longer tightened after every few steps. He could walk faster. His new leg moved naturally beneath him, almost too naturally.
William passed a blackened alley.
He stopped.
His eyes drifted toward the place where the corrupted man had died.
The metal had been restored. The blood was gone. The bent walls were straight again.
It looked almost untouched.
That was the point of VigilNet.
Nothing remained.
No evidence.
No memory.
Just another alleyway in another station where someone had died.
William remembered the man's eyes.
The trembling fingers.
The flames moving beneath his skin.
The way the Book Enforcer had said it so casually.
Probably inhaled impure Azo, typical dwellers.
William looked at his arm.
A faint glow flickered underneath his sleeve.
He immediately pulled it tighter.
"Fuck."
He walked faster.
When William reached the Messmer apartment, the lights were dim.
Maria was waiting beside the kitchen table.
She stood the moment the door opened.
Then she stopped.
Her eyes moved downward.
William didn't need to say anything.
Maria's face changed.
She stared at his leg.
Her mouth parted.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
William slowly stepped inside.
"I got it back."
Maria continued staring.
"How?"
William shut the door.
"I found a way."
"What way?"
"A dealer."
Maria's expression hardened immediately.
"What kind of dealer?"
William said nothing.
She walked closer.
"William."
"I said I found a way."
"That's not an answer."
He looked at her.
His eyes were tired.
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
Maria crouched beside the new leg. Her fingers hovered over the skin without touching it.
"This isn't possible."
"It happened."
"When?"
"An hour ago."
Her eyes moved upward.
"William."
"I'm fine."
She stood.
"No."
"I'm fine."
"You haven't regenerated in four hours before."
William's jaw tightened.
"Well, now I have."
Maria stared at him.
There was something in her expression he hated.
Fear.
Not fear for him.
Fear of him.
William looked away.
"Where are the boys?"
"Asleep."
"Good."
Maria didn't answer.
William walked toward the kitchen.
He was hungry.
Not ordinary hunger.
Something deeper.
He opened the food compartment and took out the remaining FleshFood.
Maria watched him tear off a piece.
William raised it to his mouth.
He stopped.
The smell made his stomach turn.
He put it down.
"I'm not hungry anymore."
Maria frowned.
"What?"
"I said I'm not hungry."
He turned away.
Maria watched him carefully.
William suddenly felt exhausted.
He went to bed.
For the first time in years, he expected sleep to come easily.
Instead, he lay awake until morning.