Chapter 184

Imagine the worst pain then multiply it by infinity.

If Avion could have screamed, he might have. But he doubted he'd find the air to make a sound because even simple acts like breathing or having his blood circulate proved beyond him.

I think I'm dying.

Problem was it was taking its sweet fucking time.

And it hurt.

Did the pain mean he lived still? If he did, then where was he? What had happened?

He floated, not in water or air. The hum of a million itty-bitty particles kept him aloft, or did they drag him down? It was impossible for him to determine, his sense of orientation completely skewed.

Perhaps he should call for help. He opened his mouth to see if he could cry out, but the tingly particles poured in. The buzzing microscopic bits burrowed into every hole in his body. Mouth, ears, nose, his very pores. The humming hive of bots sifted through him, testing his biological components, zipping along neural pathways before reaching his brain.

And halting.