The workshop smelled like copper dust and burnt wires. Sparks hissed and fizzled every time Doc's thick fingers brushed too close to a contact point, his massive frame hunched unnaturally small over the spread of components littering his workbench. His mechanical eye; the left one, the one rimmed with dull iron plating and too many tiny screws, buzzed faintly, the lens spasming in and out of focus as if it couldn't decide which world it belonged to.

"Verdammt," Doc muttered, voice grating low like gravel dragged over stone. His claws clicked against a spanner as he twisted it into a groove at the side of his faceplate. Metal creaked. Something inside the casing gave a brittle pop, followed by the whining static of overcharged wiring. Doc's shoulders stiffened, and his jaw flexed beneath the dim red glow of his good eye.

He leaned in closer to the table, pulling a coil of redstone wiring toward him with one hand while the other braced the screwdriver against his temple. "Stay where you are," he growled without looking back, the faint lilt of his accent sharpening the warning. "I mean it. Don't take a step closer. You breathe too hard near this setup, and I'll be scraping melted circuits off the walls."

The only sound after that was the rhythmic tap of metal tools against the casing of his skull, punctuated by the wet click of shifting servos beneath. The lens of his eye sputtered violently, projecting a pale cone of light that jittered across the room like a broken lantern. Doc squinted, cursed under his breath, then jammed his claw deeper into the seam of his face until there was a sharp metallic crack.

His whole body shuddered once, a jolt of energy coursing through him as sparks spat across the workbench. "Scheiße! Knew that would happen." He exhaled through gritted teeth, shaking out his hand where the burn marks glowed faintly against calloused skin. Then, louder, directed squarely over his shoulder: "Don't even think about moving. Last time you touched my repeater array, I had to rebuild half the damn thing from scratch. Half! Do you have any idea how infuriating that was?"

He didn't wait for an answer. His focus snapped back to the broken machinery stitched into his skull. Slowly, carefully, he levered open the casing surrounding the socket. The sound was obscene: a combination of grinding gears and the sticky tear of old solder. Beneath, wires bristled in all directions like veins exposed to open air, pulsing faintly with dull red current. His claws worked with surprising delicacy, separating each cable, peeling away the scorched insulation with the tip of a blade.