This wasn't the first time that Sera had lost a limb, and she was sure that if it was up to Dr. Davis, it wouldn't be the last.
But this was the first time that she was actually able to see the process as it happened, since the last time she was fighting for her life.
The nub that was at the base of the cut in her forearm split like a seed coming out of its shell.
Like any plant, it branched out into multiple roots, each one having its own purpose. A crease suggested a palm. The five islets flattened, then rose, then ringed out as the bones started to form under the still lavender skin.
The assistant's whisper sounded like prayer gone wrong. "Phalangeal scaffolding… that's— that's a distal phalanx—"
