Pain.
That was the first thing Nero registered as consciousness returned. Not the dull ache of overexertion or the sharp sting of a fresh wound. This was the pain of broken things.
'Fuck!' Nero cursed to himself.
His eyes opened to a dazzling blue light.
For a moment, he thought he was still falling, the sensation of weightlessness still clinging to him. Then the pain all over him spiked hard and he cursed again.
The stone was cold and smooth beneath his palms.
He tried to push himself up and nearly cried out it pain. His left arm wouldn't support his weight. The bone had snapped somewhere between elbow and wrist.
His ribs weren't much better. At least three broken on his right side, maybe more. Each breath sent fresh waves of agony through his chest.
But he was alive.
