As the Abyssal energy filled the last corners of the giant Pylon, a terrible change began to happen to Drogo’s own body. He was not just holding the machine. The machine was holding him. "Ahhhhh!" Drogo screamed. It was a roar of absolute agony. His massive, black obsidian skin began to change. The solid black stone started to turn slightly clear. It began to look like dark, smoky crystal. His legs grew heavy, fusing with the white metal floor beneath him. He was becoming the machine. He was becoming the new Anchor. "Source!" Vesper cried out, running toward him. "Your body! You are turning to glass!""Do not... touch me!" Drogo commanded. His voice sounded strange. It sounded like two voices speaking at the same time: one was his deep, gravelly voice, and the other was the mechanical, booming voice of the Pylon. The pain was unimaginable. Drogo’s mind expanded. The 0.00% humanity inside his brain fought a desperate battle against the cold, dead logic of the Aether-stone. Sudde