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He was a sight to see, but for all the wrong reasons.
Tomura couldn’t say a word, his master had stolen his mouth along with most everything else; while his comrade, his gaming buddy, his other half couldn’t say anything either because he had seemingly lost the ability to even comprehend what was going on around him much less talk about it, the blankness of his once incredibly expressive face as drool pooled out of his slack mouth speaking this truth for him.
He yet again felt the urge to rage against his master, for taking someone who was already customized to be strange and special in all the right ways, then piling more mods than any character build could take to the point where the system was buggy and broken and was constantly five seconds from crashing. And yet he knew all that raging would do was increase the strength of the chains he was wrapped in himself.
What a sight they must’ve been to the onlooking heroes: a pair of unnatural abominations to be obliterated, colossal and grotesque in every facet. What a sight they must’ve been for anyone who knew them as they really were: a pair of prisoners trapped within their own bodies, with no way to call for help.
Maybe, deep down, some tiny sliver of consciousness that resembled the Spinner he knew could recognize that they were both stuck in the same situation, the same way he himself did now. No one to know they were in trouble but each other, no one to save them but the fellow prisoner staring back across the platform. Two people drowning while the lifeguards stood by and did nothing.
Maybe there was nothing to be done, nothing that they could do to save each other, but at least they could drown together.