Pain of the aftermatch

"Haaa… haaa… haaa…"

I found that breathing heavily was oddly efficient at helping me deal with the overwhelming pain.

It felt as if… the muscle of my brain had to regenerate, forcing me to suffer through the pain of the growth.

Just like a muscle pushed to its limits, my brain now needed time to recover from the damage caused by housing two different personalities.

The original me… and this strange, profound me that had just manifested in my head.

"Tim…!"

Claire's voice was strangely slowed down, stretched in a peculiar manner, as if putting a pause between her words… and her intentions.

'Oh shit…' The moment I focused on anything other than the pain, my vision started to spin, leading me to drop my head back down as I finally managed to vomit up everything in my stomach onto what used to be the pile of documents, which had now turned to mere ashes.

'Shit…'