Turbulent Recovery

The sudden roar of the Titan shattered the relative calm, sending my fragile state into a tailspin. As I lay on the stretcher, my body, still in a regressed state, was hypersensitive to every stimulus. The loud noise was like a spark to dry tinder, igniting a maelstrom of reactions within me. My eyes rolled back into my head, and I felt my body seizing up, my muscles convulsing in a violent, uncontrollable spasm. The pain was a screaming, torturous thing that threatened to consume me whole. Hanji's face appeared above me, her eyes wide with concern and fear. She was trying to speak, to calm me down, but her words were lost in the chaos of my own mind. I was drowning in a sea of agony, my body bucking and twisting like a wild animal. The endotracheal tube in my throat was a choking, suffocating presence, and I felt myself struggling to breathe, to draw air into my lungs. Saliva bubbled up around the tube, and I felt a cold, clammy sweat break out all over my body. Hanji was trying to hold me down, to keep me still, but I was beyond reason. I was a wild, thrashing thing, driven solely by my own pain and fear. My vision began to blur and distort, colors bleeding together in a mad whirlwind of light and sound. The world around me was a blur, but I could sense Hanji's desperation, her fear for my life. She was shouting for help, her voice hoarse and urgent, but I couldn't hear her over the cacophony of my own suffering. I was trapped in a living nightmare, a world of pain and terror from which I couldn't awaken. As the seizures continued to wrack my body, I felt my consciousness begin to slip away. I was losing myself, fragmenting into a thousand different pieces, each one screaming in agony. Hanji's face was still above me, her eyes filled with tears and fear, but I couldn't focus on her. I was lost, adrift in a sea of pain, with no anchor to cling to. The world went dark, and I was gone, lost in a world of suffering and despair. When I came back to myself, I was in a hospital bed, surrounded by the sterile white walls of a medical facility. Hanji was sitting beside me, her eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep, her face etched with worry and concern. "Hey," she said softly, taking my hand in hers. "You're okay. You're safe." I tried to speak, but my voice was barely a whisper. My body was still weak, still recovering from the ordeal. But as I looked up at Hanji, I knew that I was going to be okay. She was here, and she would take care of me, no matter what.