I lay on the gym floor for several minutes, looking at my body and trying to process what had just happened. The dream—or whatever that had been—felt more real than most of my actual memories. Mark's scarred face, his final warning about regret, the vivid scenarios of my own death... all of it lingered in my mind with uncomfortable clarity.
But more immediately pressing was the state of my physical form. I flexed my fingers experimentally, expecting the sharp agony of my broken wrist to flood through me. The pain was there, but it felt... muted. Manageable. The Pain Resistance skill was working exactly as advertised, filtering the worst of the sensations while leaving me functionally capable.
