Narrator: Commander Andreyasn has no fewer than five major bone-breaks right now.
Narrator: The nanomachines in his blood have deadened all the pain. He feels nothing.
Narrator: Nothing, that is, but a rhythmic staccato of sharp tactile pulses in his broken right forearm.
Kevyn: Ow. Ooh. Ow. Ooh. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ooh.
Narrator: It is almost as if the nannies are trying to get his attention.
Nannite Conductor: Dust off those thermal synapses. We're going to play "my hand is on fire" next.