Bearded and disheveled, he was almost skinny to the point of emaciation.
No idea how long it had been since he last bathed or changed clothes, with the grime at his collar pitch black, he no longer resembled the young master he once was, looking rather like a vagrant who emerged from nowhere, fitting right into the local scenery.
Currently, he lay slumped in the middle of the workshop on a bizarre mechanical metal chair, his eyes askew and vacant, drooling at the mouth, sparks flying off his entire body as he convulsed and spasmed.
He uttered indistinct, garbled sounds, as if possessed, overlapping into a sharp, piercing cacophony.
Even more sinister was the scene around him, where semi-transparent phantoms, be they human, beast, snake, spider, or octopus with countless entangled limbs, flitted about.
They moved silently like restless spirits, weaving in and out, collaboratively busy as if part of a single entity.
