[i]'Strong or dangerous.' Well, I knew one of each. The psychotic woman on the train came to mind, but it'd be too soon if I never saw her again. That left strong. Fortunately, I had an idea.[/i] Gregori Markov is no scientist, or even an engineer. He has always, however, been very interested in augmented prosthetics. Looking for a strong material isn't a difficult task. After all, his arms are made out of one of the strongest materials per unit of weight around: graphene. [i]I could science babble all day about the stuff, but who would listen? The point is that the stuff is tough and light - roughly two-hundred times stronger than steel per unit. My arms were built out of it, along with a recipe of alloys. They were nearly indestructible. Plus they comes in black[/i] Liberating some graphene from a set of spare parts isn't difficult for Markov. He sets to work over the next day to create a sample. The tram ride that comes afterward is nerve-wracking, but without consequences. When the doors open, a fleet of dirty, hopeless human beings sail forth, each filled with a desperate need to define a better life through a soul devouring employer. Gregori lets himself get carried by the disconsolate crowd toward the Bio-Lab. He rides the elevator up with a handful of others, each of their faces lined with bitterness and despair. Even the ringing bell of the elevator when they reach their destination is flat. Stepping from within the dingy, ill-lit cab, Markov looks around for a scientist.