( ah. not a synthetic, then, that's definitely a human hand sticking out of the sand. shepard jogs over in time for the metal one to click back in place -- which is an interesting concept, she guesses, although she's lowkey judging the intelligence behind projectile bits of armor. maybe it's smart, who knows??

at his side, she analyzes the situation -- a good soldier doesn't take too long. his arm has to be treated, but first things first. )

Alright, take it easy. I'll get you out. ( her body hums, lighting up with a purple glow. ) Close your eyes, try not to breathe for a second.

( a second is all it takes, anyway -- parted hands use the the purple fuzz to split the sand right down the middle of tony's chest, immediately piling over itself on either side. back to normal human colors, shepard takes a spot next to him, tilting her head. civilians don't wear high tech armor, last she checked. )

Let me see your arm.