Shape, function, ability, beauty, perfection. I wanted it all.

It started when I had a freak SCUBA diving accident that left me partially deaf in both ears. I'd gone and gotten the implants that made me hear again. But the surgery was such a success, the technology so advanced, that now I could hear better than ever. I heard couples squabbling politely over their meals from across crowded restaurants. I heard babies crying from four blocks away.

Next, I lost my vision in a freak astronomy accident and had full eye replacement surgery. Now I could see the seat number of ticket stubs from across a football field.

I wanted more.

So I began injuring myself. First, I poured acid in my nose and received a new one. Next came my arms, legs, mouth, heart, lungs. I was a superman created by the latest breakthrough, replacing my self piece by piece.

My fiancee, the surgeon Martha Fields, hated what I was doing. And what I didn't know was that she was reconstructing me, piece by piece in her lab at John's Hopkins. She was taking those bits of imperfect flesh and recreating the man she loved even as this new one took form.

Next came the brain.

When I awoke, I was in a lab and a woman was kissing my cheek. She told me about the other. I had to stop him.