[Archer tries to find something to say. He knows he should interrupt Kimblee, tell him that he's talking more to himself than to Archer, but he can't quite find any way to intervene. The words aren't quite sinking in, if only because he can't imagine himself changing that much due to automail. Yes, the automail would be extensive and the instillation would be painful, but it shouldn't change him that much, right?

He takes the notebook numbly, staring down at the drawing. It briefly occurs to him that Kimblee is better at this than he thought he'd be, but then the actual design sinks in and Archer laughs.]

You're kidding. Please tell me you're kidding.

[He knows Kimblee isn't. Kimblee wouldn't joke about something like this.]

This is what the automail looked like? This is what they did to me!?

[His voice rises with that, though it's shaking by the time he gets to the end of his question. The very idea of being fit with something so grotesque horrifies him.]

There's no way. There's no way...