He makes it to the control room, and no one is more surprised by that than him. He dashes inside and turns, in time to see Tron hit...
Controlling Mad Hatter requires so much energy, that he'd drawn his Chain in when his arm shattered, but now his impulse is to unfurl it again, or dash back outside himself to distract the creature. But that would be throwing his life away, in his present state. He is dizzy already from bleeding, and he can already feel that familiar, coppery tickle starting at the back of his throat. He has a job to do here.
That job, too, seems impossible. What does someone like him know about technology in this century? Except he recalls from Exsilium, the more advanced technology is, the easier it is to use. He ignores the keypads covered with inscrutable alien lettering, and calls out, "Open the hangar bay doors!"
A mechanical voice, a smooth contralto, so mellifluous it could almost be sexy answers, "I can't do that, sir."
no subject
Controlling Mad Hatter requires so much energy, that he'd drawn his Chain in when his arm shattered, but now his impulse is to unfurl it again, or dash back outside himself to distract the creature. But that would be throwing his life away, in his present state. He is dizzy already from bleeding, and he can already feel that familiar, coppery tickle starting at the back of his throat. He has a job to do here.
That job, too, seems impossible. What does someone like him know about technology in this century? Except he recalls from Exsilium, the more advanced technology is, the easier it is to use. He ignores the keypads covered with inscrutable alien lettering, and calls out, "Open the hangar bay doors!"
A mechanical voice, a smooth contralto, so mellifluous it could almost be sexy answers, "I can't do that, sir."