When CyDocs became a thing, they needed volunteers to test out the new ware. I was among the first, opting for a cybernetic arm which promised never-before-seen strength.
I won arm wrestling contests with ease, effortlessly ripped doors from hinges, and threw blows like a sledgehammer with my fist.
One night, I challenged a stranger with neuralware processors to a fight. He hacked the arm before I could even swing. It turned on me, titanium fingers clutching my throat, constricting with every attempted breath. The stranger’s laughter lingered as the metal hand tightened, my human arm powerless to stop it.