Chuck found his face. He's walking down the street rejoicing; hasn't had time to look in the mirror though...wires hanging out, chunks of meat replaced by metal and tiny bolts and solder stitching - staples across forehead, Leaky circuits. Cut up real good. Infinite invisible razor's edge glistening as the cornerstone. Re-sold flesh-packets on the underworld's market. Flesh of a dead-god for demons to eat and slumber peacefully off-circuit with full belly. Dreaming nox in a cage rattle burst of pain. The first stop when you get out, when you begin to ascend: ToDE. Treacherous place. Gate synchronization could give in any moment. Pray to an unseen technician so that they may be so kind as perform your repairs. May the god-scalpel have mercy and infinite finger not twitch whilst carving against the bone of thine face.