Consciousness struggled upward from the viscous depths of darkness.
Hearing was the first to return.
He could hear rhythmic detonations coming from all around, as if a giant hammer were pounding relentlessly on a thick metal dome.
Each impact sent ripples across the surface of his awareness, intensifying a dull Pain that came from the depths of his Soul.
Next came bodily sensation.
A cold, hard texture pressed against his back—that was the distinctive temperature and feel of the Black Giant Priest's liquid Metal arm.
His body was being steadily supported, rising and falling slightly in the ceaseless tremors.
Last came the feedback from his biological clock: duration of unconsciousness, approximately… seventeen hours and forty‑three minutes.
Jeming's eyes snapped open.
His vision was a little blurry; the vertigo brought on by the severe Soul trauma had not yet receded.
