Vestige

Inhabitants of The Throat and other Parture settlements are commonly vestiges, reanimated corpses.
The following is an account by an unnamed vestige, retelling their own death and subsequent resurrection:

What it feels like to die? Well it is a rather personal experience. But I will tell you mine.
The rebel bullet entered my body in a weakspot of my armor and right through an artery. Not good. At least they dont make them like we do. No shattering glass tips, no toxic or combusting fillings. Just good old solid metal. And the uncanny accuracy with which they are shot.
Before the pain started to take hold I had the clarity of mind to quickly call for a doctor, and soon enough an Albor cabalist was there at my side. As he filled the wound with healing foam to prevent me from bleeding out, he assured me only a minimum of gunshot wounds were fatal.
But thats the last I heard of his blabbering. As I was explained later, the bullet hadn't only punched a hole in my skin and sent a shockwave through my entire body, but once inside it ricocheted once or twice against my bones and tore a path of destruction through my organs. As that fool filled his mouth with mortality rates, my body began to shut down.
I was mildly hungry before, but then I was not anymore. At one point the senses got super heightened for a moment and then fizzled as they stopped receiving oxygen, now that most of the air I laboriously breathed was escaping from my lungs through a bunch of new holes. I have to tell you, you never quite appreciate your sense of smell, or tact, until you dont have them anymore. I just stopped feeling. But my brain would have none of it. No, it would go down fighting. The neurochemicals in there immediately went ballistic, and I started hallucinating. You heard the stories about the tunnel, the light, the pretty garden where you meet long lost relatives. And peace. Thats your brain making stuff up after what was actually around you melted away.
Eventually, with one last breath, I passed away in the arms of the perplexed young cabalist who was probably wondering how his numbers could have lied. Probability doesnt work that way, kid.
Now after your body officially dies, which is called a clinical death, you brain still keeps going for a while. And in the meantime, you start forgetting. Memory slips from your grasp as the braincells that hold it choke to death. Fortunately for me, the doctor refused to have his statistics proven wrong, and connected me to some breathing apparatus in an effort to keep me "alive". All it did was prevent my brain from completely losing it for a while longer. I did forget my childhood. Whoever my consort was. The first time I shot someone. But I did remember those last moments, that being the most recent were still vivid in my memory.
Then, I was pulled from oblivion with aethereal claws. In whatever time had passed since my clinical death, Parture necromancers had gotten hold of my body, frozen me, transported me to The Throat, District Ghagiel, and raised me anew. As but a vestige of what I used to be.
Alas, this new state is less than a temporary inconvenience. My past lays buried. I am free to reinvent myself in whatever way suits best my new master.
That, breathing one, is what death feels like. Future, and only future, ahead of you. A new beginning.

Causes

When a corpse is recovered mostly intact and not an excessively long time after their death (24 hours at most, before decay takes its toll), Parture necromancers preserve it as best as they can in cryogenic capsules and trasport it to The Throat, where it will be turned into a vestige in service of the Corporation.
Once in District Ghagiel the body is thawed, and a machine extracts all remaining fluids. Without blood, the corpse looks pale and parched. All internal organs (being the first to decompose usually puts them beyond any possibility of salvation) and any overly damaged extremity is replaced with cybernetic substitutes, and the empty veins of the corpse are filled with akasha, a substance known in the rest of the Conclave as aether. It consists of a mix of formaldehyde, methanol, sodium bicarbonate, and hydrogen, thet together prevent further decomposition of the cells, and hemocyanin to transport the little oxygen the subject still needs.
Once filled with aether, the subject is awoken with their new brain synchronized with the Parture hive mind, who will assign it a role according to whatever skills it still posseses.

Symptoms

The organic brain is usually one of the replaced organs, which leaves most vestiges with few if any memory of their past lives. Kosmaro Aureal is a notable exception, her mind preserved intact thanks to the efforts of her sister Suno.
Exposed to oxygen, the copper in the hemocyanin oxidizes and gives aether a blue-green hue, giving way to the belief that vestiges posess turquoise blood. Thus, affected individuals are easily recognizable because of their skin, pupils, and skin-level veins taking this color. However, while not transporting oxygen, aether remains grey and almost transparent. Being and excellent medium for light, aether also causes the eyes of vestiges to glow softly.
The methanol and hydrogen in the aether make it extremely flammable, so vestiges must take care not to expose any wound to a flame, lest it results in combustion or even a small explosion.
Vestiges have also been heard making a disturbing gurgling sound from their throats, much like a death rattle that persisted into their undeath.
In the case of vestiges whose bodies were recovered near the 24-hour limit, the skin around the mouth, eyes and nails may have retracted, making them look significantly more monstruous. Such individuals are, however, the least likely to care about their physical appearance, their minds already lost to the void.

Affected Groups

Any human, old world or konstruanto is prone to becoming one of these upon their death, provided Parture necromancers get a hold on their body. Additionally, there is rumors of an initiative to turn dead animals and other creatures into undead servants for the Corporation too. Since their bodies are so different, the technique would need adjustments, but it would certainly be a great addition to an ever-growing army.

History

Developed by early inhabitants of The Throat in order to prevent their slaves from dying and keep them working forever. By the point the city was under control of the slaves, they had embraced their condition and sought to apply it to others to grow their numbers.

Cultural Reception

After Kosmaro's death and her subsequent vestigiation, Suno Aureal presented a complaint to the Conclave government, arguing the bodies of Albor agents should not be used to bolster the forces of their long-time enemies. Since then and after a lenghty debate, fallen Albor are processed into fertilizer for their own crops, becoming the only group whose members are guaranteed eternal rest for their mortal remains.
In the rest of the Conclave, vestiges are treated with curiosity and fear in equal parts. However, it is a well known fact that while aether is extremely toxic, when properly treated it boasts potent inmunologic properties. Thus, unscrupulous individuals sometimes ambush and kill lone vestiges to harvest their fluids.

Type

Chemical Compound

Origin

Engineered

Rarity

Uncommon