"....The starfish regenerative trait infusion had been completed."
"It has? Perfect," he muttered.
He flexed his fingers, turned his wrists, rubbed his forearms, half-expecting something dramatic. Even if not dramatic, at least something. Maybe even a faint itch under his skin. But there was nothing. His body looked and felt the same.
Not that it surprised him. Even before this infusion, the nanites had already worked wonders. They'd repaired every scar, every faint remnant of childhood scrapes, hidden microfractures in bones, even the tiny muscle tears accumulated from ordinary living and the days he spent working those physically taxing job. His body was pristine, almost unnaturally so.
Still, the whole point of the starfish's regenerative trait wasn't cosmetic. It was about what happened when things went wrong. And there was only one way to test that.
