Flick.<br/><br/>Click.<br/><br/>Simon put the cigarette in his lips before putting the flame to it. Inhaling deeply before blowing out, watching the smoke lazily for a moment before standing up.<br/><br/>The surgery took longer than he had expected. Brain matter wasn't something you just jaunted through with the supplies he had. Sweat poured from his brow for hours straight as he worked through everything in that noggin'. He even resorted to pissing into a bottle.<br/><br/>But it was a complete success. At least what he set out to do was.<br/><br/>He didn't get a chance to sleep though. A shitty way to spend his last night, but he was going to live with the reason he had no sleep for the short remainder of his life.<br/><br/>The waiting room was clinically clean save for the cigarette smoke he was producing, and he didn't need to make it filthy. Still ... he had no idea when this man was going to recover.<br/><br/>He was right about a few things though ... it made the project scarier. It wasn't creating some last resort to win the unwinnable or prevent destruction. Just ...<br/><br/>Shit.<br/><br/>He slowly walked his way towards the office. He didn't need breakfast, the novelty of the practice ended around day fifteen of his journey to who-knows-where. He probably looked like a zombie with the dark circles under his eyes and the slightly jaundiced look, but its what he could present and damn it he was-<br/><br/>He opened the office door.<br/><br/>"... This is way emptier than I expected."<br/><br/>He took a pronounced drag, making sure he wasn't going a bit crazy.<br/><br/>"Maybe I'm just early."<br/><br/>He sat down on the couch, blinking a few times before everything went black, and his snoring pierced the silence.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>