Garyn slams into the wall and sprawls onto the cold floor beneath him. The armor keeps his bones from breaking. It can do nothing for the deceleration trauma.

His breath shortens. His vision swims. The dim Temple swirls in a gray, undistinguished blur. He fights the drive to slide further into unconsciousness. He presses his hands against the floor and tries to bring himself to his feet.

It's no good. He sways and stumbles. He falls to his knees again, crawling, searching for his sword.

"Ibani...