The drape's final blow had struck Nova directly in the solar plexus, driving the last of the air from his lungs. He had already endured deep puncture wounds, broken skin, and repeated blows to his back, but he could no longer force his body to ignore them. Every injury seemed to make itself known at once. His strength failed, and he fell into the mud without being able to lift his arms to protect himself.
Even as his eyes closed, a faint smile remained on his face. He had finally experienced the struggle he had sought ever since entering the mortal realm. Unfortunately, the satisfaction did nothing to lessen the pain. His chest barely moved, and his breathing had become so shallow that he could no longer tell whether he had drawn another breath.
