Epilogue
Holy mother gods almighty. I can’t feel my body but at least I have enough of an existence to swear. Might be blind. Might be in some non-linear alternate dimension. But wherever this is, the laws of physics allow pain. Lots of it.
When a useful semblance of consciousness returns, it takes forever before I recognize I’m staring at a malfunctioning fiber optic sculpture. Blinding lights sweep through it at irregular, seizure-calibrated intervals and I’m too numb to shield my eyes.
When enough strength returns, I roll away, my face landing on a loose pile of metal rings. The surface I’m lying on appears gray. Maybe a dark blue. Then I pass out again.
Sometime later, I feel motion. Fuzzy words: “Do you think he’s dead?”
“He’s naked and hasn’t moved. Might as well be.”
More moti
