Theron's mind felt trapped within a chasm of pain. It didn't feel like any particular part of his body was hurting anymore, and yet like everything was.
Every time he tried to grasp out at a light, he failed, only realizing that that light was the whimpering Teacher Fern. He got close, only to reflexively peel back as though he had been stung by a hot iron.
He was completely trapped in a fog, the world around him spinning in ways he couldn't understand.
He wanted his control back. He just wanted to see, to feel properly, to have the dominion over his own life that he had always had.
But it seemed forever out of his reach.
…
The old assassin raced across the plains, his eyes shifting up to the disk that followed him from time to time. He still seemed to be waiting for Theron to just jump out and stab him from the back, but that time didn't seem to be coming at all.