Unbroken by Impact

Maximus woke with a start.

He was lying on cold, wet asphalt, the rain pelting down harder than before. His vision was blurry, a mix of dark shapes and blurred lights swimming in and out of focus. 

The sound of rain hammering against the pavement was deafening, almost drowning out the crowd's murmurs gathered around him. His entire body ached, and he could feel a warm, sticky wetness running down his side—blood pooling beneath him and mingling with the rainwater.

His chest tightened as he tried to breathe, each gasp shallow and ragged. Pain shot through his ribs, and he groaned, his head spinning like he had been caught in the middle of a whirlwind.

Dimly, through the haze of pain and confusion, he saw a familiar face pushing through the circle of onlookers—a middle-aged man with short, graying hair and a thick, weathered jacket. 

It was Martin, his co-worker from the construction site. He was one of the few people in this city who had ever been kind to him, who would not treat him like another faceless laborer.

"Max! Max, stay with me!" Martin shouted, but the words were distant and muffled like they were coming from underwater. 

Martin's face was pale, his eyes wide with worry, and he was waving his arms frantically, calling for help. He reached out to touch Maximus's shoulder, his hand trembling, but Maximus couldn't make sense of what he was saying.

The rest of the crowd looked like a blur of faces—curious, indifferent, and some even annoyed at the inconvenience of the accident. But Martin was different. His expression was twisted with genuine concern, and his voice carried a desperation that cut through the fog clouding Maximus's mind.

Maximus tried to speak, to ask Martin what had happened, but his voice wouldn't come. He could barely move his lips, let alone form words. His head throbbed with a dull, insistent pain that made it hard to focus. 

There was a loud ringing in his ears, drowning out everything else. He winced and shut his eyes, willing the dizziness to stop.

"Maximus! Look at me! Are you okay?" Martin's voice broke through the noise, clearer this time, but Maximus still couldn't make out the words. He saw Martin's face twist in frustration and panic, his mouth opening and closing as he shouted something, but it all felt so distant.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Maximus forced his eyes open again. The world was spinning, the rain falling in heavy sheets that blurred everything, but he could make out the concerned faces around him. 

Some whispered to each other, some pointed, and others simply watched in stunned silence. Maximus could feel the cold rain soaking through his clothes, mingling with the warmth of his blood.

Suddenly, a rush of adrenaline hit him—an instinct, a need to move. He wasn't sure why, but he couldn't stay on the ground. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself up, his arms shaking under the strain. 

Martin tried to hold him down, urging him to stay still, but Maximus ignored him. He couldn't stay there, helpless and surrounded. There was something inside him—an urgency he couldn't explain, a need to stand, to see his surroundings.

With a grunt of effort, he forced himself onto his knees, swaying dangerously as the world around him tilted and spun. The crowd gasped, and Martin was shouting again, his voice a desperate plea, but Maximus couldn't hear him clearly. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heartbeat, echoing in his ears like a drumbeat.

Somehow, he managed to get to his feet, his legs unsteady and his vision still a blur. The pain was excruciating, but he fought through it, driven by a force he didn't understand. He took a shaky step, then another, feeling the cold rain wash over him, mingling with the blood that stained his clothes.

Maximus looked around, his eyes darting from face to face, trying to make sense of what was happening. He could feel the eyes of the crowd on him, a mixture of shock and disbelief, but he didn't care. 

Something was wrong, and he needed to understand what it was. His instincts were screaming at him to get up, to keep moving, to push past the pain.

Martin's hand was still on his shoulder, his eyes filled with confusion and relief, but Maximus barely registered it. He stood there, swaying slightly as the world seemed to tilt around him, his breath ragged and his mind a swirling fog of thoughts he couldn't grasp.

"What... happened?" Maximus managed to choke out, his voice hoarse and barely audible, but no one answered.

The rain fell harder, and the sounds of the city seemed to fade away, leaving only the echo of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Maximus stood there, swaying in the rain, his breath ragged and shallow. But then, something strange began to happen. The pounding in his ears grew louder, becoming a steady, rhythmic beat that seemed to reverberate through his entire body. He gasped, feeling a warmth spread through his chest, pushing out the pain, numbing the ache in his limbs.

The searing agony that had gripped him moments before faded, replaced by a deep, thrumming energy that pulsed beneath his skin. It was as if a dam had broken inside him, flooding his senses with a surge of power he couldn't explain. 

His vision cleared, the dizziness ebbed away, and the ringing in his ears subsided into a distant echo. The rain felt sharper against his skin, each drop like a cool jolt of electricity.

Maximus's breaths steadied, and he straightened, his posture firming. The blood pooling at his side felt like it was no longer there, its warmth replaced by something powerful, something alive.

He stared down at his hands, half-expecting to see the wounds that had been there moments before, but they were slowly gone. His fingers trembled, not from weakness but from the unfamiliar rush of vitality coursing through his veins.

The onlookers were staring at him, their expressions filled with confusion. Maximus was supposed to be badly injured after being hit by the car and thrown several meters away.

"Max?" Martin's voice broke through the haze, and Maximus's eyes snapped to meet him. Martin's face was a mixture of shock and relief, his brow furrowed with concern. He reached out cautiously as if afraid that Maximus might collapse again. "Max, are you okay?"

"I... I think so," Maximus said, his voice steadier than he felt. He gave a hesitant nod, though confusion was all over his face. "I... I don't know what happened. I feel... fine." 

He glanced down at his clothes, still soaked with rain and stained with blood. His brow furrowed, and he looked back at Martin, bewildered.

Martin took a step closer, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You are bleeding, Max. You are... How can you say you're oka—" He cut himself off, shaking his head as if trying to clear the image from his mind. "Never mind. If you're okay, that's all that matters."

Maximus tried to respond, but he didn't have the words. He couldn't explain what had just happened—how the pain had vanished and why he felt stronger than ever like he could run a hundred miles without stopping. The sensation was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Suddenly, a thought cut through his confusion. The job. The work site. He had to get there.

"Martin," he said, his tone suddenly urgent. "The job. What time is it? Am I late?" His voice was almost frantic, the words spilling out in a rush as if the accident had never happened. He had no time to worry about the impossible changes in his body, not when work was to be done.

Martin's mouth fell open slightly, taken aback by the abrupt shift in Maximus's demeanor. "W-What? The job? You were just hit by a car, Max! What are you talking about?" he stammered. Still, Maximus was already glancing around, searching for a clock, a watch, anything to tell him the time.

"Please, Martin," Maximus insisted, a strange intensity in his eyes. "What time is it? Can I still make it?"

Martin hesitated, clearly bewildered by Maximus's sudden focus on something mundane, but he pulled out his phone with shaky hands. He looked at the screen, then back at Maximus, a mix of confusion and concern twisting his expression.

"It's... it's just past eight," Martin said slowly. "You're already late, Max. But that doesn't matter right now—"

"I have to go," Maximus interrupted, cutting him off. He looked down at himself again, the rain-drenched clothes, the remnants of the fall, and then back at Martin. "I can still make it. They need me at the site." His voice had a strange determination, an almost frantic need to return to normalcy.

"Max, you just got hit by a car!" Martin said, raising his voice, trying to snap him out of it. "You shouldn't even be standing right now! You need to go to a hospital or something!"

"No," Maximus said firmly, shaking his head. He felt fine. More than fine, in fact. There was no pain or dizziness—nothing to indicate that he had been injured. He had to return to work and pretend everything was normal because he feared what he might discover if he stopped thinking about what had happened.

"It's okay," he said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I feel... I feel fine, Martin. I can do this."

Martin looked at him, searching his face for some sign of reassurance, but all he found was confusion and determination. He hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod, though the worry never left his eyes. "Okay, Max... But if you start feeling worse, promise me you'll go see a doctor, alright?"

"Yeah," Maximus said, already moving away, his legs surprisingly steady beneath him. "I promise."

He turned and walked toward the street corner, his heart racing from the leftover adrenaline and the strange, powerful energy still pulsing within him. Martin followed him, confusion and worry written on his face.

Meanwhile, Maximus had no idea what had happened but knew he couldn't stop now. He would have to find the answers later.

For now, he had a job to do. He wanted to collect his paycheck for the day.