Damage
He has nightmares, now. He's trying to build a tower made of glass, and he knows that if he can just get it to the moon the world will be saved, but a thousand glass-eating machines crowd around the base and turn it all to sand, and he keeps having to make the sand back into glass and--
"AUGH WHAT!?"
He sat bolt upright and banged his head hard against the glass of the stasis pod in which he lay. This still didn't register with him. More important:
"Arctic!? Are you ok, where's Synth, what the hell is..."
He pressed his hands against the glass. That looked like... the medbay.
"Uh... wait, what? ..."
Oh right. A knife to the back.
"Hey, but how am I not dead?"
From out of the corner of his vision appeared a med tech, sighing.
"Sir, please lie back down. We haven't finished repairing the damage to your back..."
"The hell with that, I can fix it myself! Where are my squadmates?"
"... sir, please--!"
"I'm fine! Let me - ow."
... okay, so that wasn't healed yet. Whatever. "Let me out!"
"AUGH WHAT!?"
He sat bolt upright and banged his head hard against the glass of the stasis pod in which he lay. This still didn't register with him. More important:
"Arctic!? Are you ok, where's Synth, what the hell is..."
He pressed his hands against the glass. That looked like... the medbay.
"Uh... wait, what? ..."
Oh right. A knife to the back.
"Hey, but how am I not dead?"
From out of the corner of his vision appeared a med tech, sighing.
"Sir, please lie back down. We haven't finished repairing the damage to your back..."
"The hell with that, I can fix it myself! Where are my squadmates?"
"... sir, please--!"
"I'm fine! Let me - ow."
... okay, so that wasn't healed yet. Whatever. "Let me out!"