"'Organic' isn't strictly correct for demons manifesting on this plane," comes a small voice from the vicinity of Megatron's feet, where Val is sitting to one side of the portal. Tech components lie strewn on the floor in front of her like alphabet blocks in front of a normal child, and she's using a hand-held torch to weld bits together. "But close enough, I guess."

She finishes whatever she's doing and holds the piece up to oblique light to check the integrity of her alterations. "Anyway, glad to see someone's smart enough not to cut a deal with a demon."