"The hell you talking about, following me-" He catches sight of the whisps in the corner of his eye, turns on his heel to confront the things. They're shadows, smoke, trailing after him like they're rising from his own stretched shadow in the dimly lit hall.

Maybe he does need a breather.

He tries to clear his head as he grips tightly to the shard, the strange pink liquid still sticking to the metal of his bionics, oozing between the gaps to the electronics that send sensory data to his brain.

"... The hell are these things...?"