Patrick woke up with a sharp gasp. Instinctively, he tried to sit up only for a calm voice to stop him.
"You shouldn't do that, sir. You're in no position to move right now."
As if to prove the point, white-hot pain tore through him, slicing through his body like a blade. Patrick sucked in a shaky breath through his nose, every muscle locking in protest.
He lifted his head slowly and focused on the man standing beside the bed. Recognition hit him.
"Y-you…" His voice came out hoarse.
The man was one of the intern doctors. One of the ones he had worked with during the production of Ignis. They were in a small room with bare walls and a single closed window, clearly not meant for comfort.
"Yes," the man said, offering a polite smile. "Me."
Patrick groaned softly. "What happened?" Even speaking felt like dragging broken glass through his throat.
The intern leaned closer, checking the monitors and bandages. "You nearly died, that's what happened."
