My eyes flutter open, sluggish and unfocused. Everything feels distant, like I’m surfacing from deep underwater. A dull, throbbing pain pulses at the back of my head, growing sharper as awareness creeps in. I wince instinctively, blinking against the dim light, my mind struggling to piece together where I am—or how I got here.
I’m in some sort of medical bay, lying on an examination trolley with raised sides. The scent of antiseptic clings to the air. I lift a shaky hand to my face, my fingers brushing against something foreign. My nose—stuffed with long cotton wool pads. I frown, slowly pulling them free, wincing at the dry, crusted blood staining them. I sniff experimentally, wrinkling my nose at the sensation, but it seems fine now. It’s the back of my head that still screams in protes
