[ He clenches his teeth and presses his forearm back to his elbow. They reconnect with another flash of sparks and a jolt of pain that he stifles. The ends of skin meld together, leaving only a faint, crooked outline at the seam. Instantly, he can tell that something was damaged; the joint feels a little ragged, probably some fine machinery bent slightly out of shape. He rotates and flexes his arm experimentally before rolling down his sleeve. 85% functionality restored. ]

Then my shadow will just have to adapt in time, won't it? You don't leave us much choice.

[ He trusts his shadow more than Hyde at the moment. As if responding to 9S's words, the shadow stops trying to crush the Disciple with quite so much finality. ]

This doesn't have to be so hard. Go to sleep, or whatever you want to call it, and you can have your fun another day.