Attached

*Click!*

The mechanism whirred, and a small light beneath the skin of his inner right palm began to glow. The flash of green indicated a full charge. This pair hadn't been used in weeks, so they would more than likely get him through the day. Feeling the warmth return to his body, the man exhaled a sigh of relief. He flexed both arms, opened and closed his palms, and rotated the joints to ensure the calibration was set properly. Satisfied, he moved on to the pair of muscular legs that sat beside him, waiting to be connected. Most days, the man would prefer to wear a sleeker, more fashionable set of extremities but today wasn't most days. He'd need power if he was going to pull this off.

Designer prosthetics were no longer just for the disabled. In the beginning, it was a messy business. With enough money and the worst kind of doctor, anyone could get their limbs removed and have a port installed. But times had changed. Anyone could get beautiful arms and legs with the right insurance plan. There were few drawbacks to getting the body you'd always wanted, at least aesthetically. No matter how long though, the brain never truly adjusts to the artificial appendages. Most say "it fits like a glove" because the sensation is slightly dulled, but after years most people forgot what true touch actually felt like. Tactile sensations were valued less than outward appearances, and prosthetics were all the rage.

On this day, the parts the man chose were for a particular purpose. This wasn't about style. This was about something much more serious. Something needing a lot more strength, stamina, and agility than the man usually had. "The right tools for the right job," his father had always said, and this was no ordinary job. He was going to need all the advantages available if he had any chance of getting his original limbs back.