Oh my god, I'm dead.

--Only for a moment. System shutdown complete, initiating reboot.--

Oh, god. I'm dead, I died, I can't breathe, I don't want to die...

--Stop being overdramatic, Zeta. You've done this a thousand times before.

Respiratory protocols active.

Oxygen intake nominal.

Restarting cardiac rhythm in 3...2...1...--

"OHFUCKOW!"

Zeta's eyes shot open as his heart restarted, pain searing through his chest and back. Spots clouded his vision for a few moments before he had the good sense to blink them away, unable to even lift his head to view his surroundings without being overcome by nausea.

--Careful now. Can't take this too quickly. You always have a bit of disorientation after a reboot, Zeta. Just listen to me and do what I say, and you'll be fine.--

What he had taken for his own voice in his head he gradually realized was much more: it was someone else. Familiarity gnawed at his mind until he could put a name to the reassuring words.

"Al...Al, right?" He slowly felt the fog clearing from his thoughts, but it was like picking each word from a bramble. Waking up had been hard enough, but trying to compartmentalize what thoughts were his and what belonged to the other entity was incredibly difficult. It was like they were two consciousnesses occupying the same physical space.

--Yes, Zeta,-- the voice replied. It was kind and approving, but also a little impatient. --Your brain is rather literally rebuilding itself, so don't be alarmed if it takes you a bit to get your bearings. Can you try to look around?--

With great effort, Zeta attempted to comply, lifting his head from the hard surface that he was laying on. The first thing that he noticed was that he was outside. Stars twinkled knowingly overhead, pinpricks of light that illuminated the drops of rain starting to fall on him. Cool and refreshing, the rain helped him return to his senses, just in time for him to gasp soundlessly in horror at the sight of himself.

While the pain throbbing in his head had dominated his awareness, one glance revealed that the rest of his body was in even worse shape. Flattened against the sidewalk he had landed on, he had multiple bones protruding through his skin in his arms and legs, and his clothing was soaked in blood. Before he could so much as moan hopelessly, however, the voice of Al returned.

--This is the worst hit you've taken in awhile, but it's nothing we can't handle. Just stay calm and let me work.--

"What happened?" Zeta asked, gritting his teeth. He was equally fascinated and shocked by the sight of something resembling spiderwebs reaching out from the break in his skin, wrapping around the bone inside and pulling it back within. Over the next few seconds, the process was repeated all over his body, literally resetting him into place.

--You fell out of a window.--

"A window?" He murmured.

--It was a very high window. Your brain was significantly damaged on impact, resulting in short-term memory loss. Do not worry; I saved your recent memories. Once you're fully healed, they will be restored from the external drive.--

"...Right." Zeta didn't follow half of what Al was telling him, but then, it didn't sound like he was supposed to in his current state. He started to sit up, only to cry out in agony as his spine reset. A sickening crack filled the air, the bones in his back resetting and forcing him to lie straight. The pain was unbearable for a moment until a flood of comforting warmth surged through his system, causing him to exhale in relief. "What did you do?" He asked distantly, feeling consciousness threaten to fade again.

--Painkillers. You had plenty stored in your implants. I'll remind you to refill them later, because I just exhausted your supply.--

Lying his head back down, mostly to cope with the euphoria of the drugs taking over, Zeta stared up at the building that he had presumably fallen out of. Al had been right: it was very large. Dominating a full city block in width, the skyscraper before him extended further than he could even see, and he had no way of telling just where he'd fallen out of.

More interestingly, Zeta realized that he hadn't seen anyone else around, despite the fact that he was laying on what was ostensibly a city street. It wasn't until his brain knitted back together a little bit more that he remembered exactly why this was: After a dangerous storm, this entire district had gone dark for repairs, with all traffic being routed through other areas. It was why he'd chosen this location for...for what?

--For the fight. The fight that you lost.--

"Oh...so it's just me who lost. What were you doing, then?"

--Trying to identify your attacker.--

That struck him as a bit strange. Like all Redeemers - rare, cybernetically enhanced operatives of an organization he'd long since left - Zeta had the most advanced sensor technology and Identify-Friend-or-Foe implants ever designed, far beyond even what the military had access to.

"What do you mean? What'd the IFF say?"

--The IFF said nothing.--

That was enough to make Zeta jerk up into a sitting position, ignoring the lingering pain of the last round of repairs on his body. Between the healing and Al's reminders, just what had happened was coming back to him a rush, and he suddenly realized that he needed to run. As quickly and as far as he could.

--Whoa, whoa, what's the hold up?-- Al asked, catching mind of his panicked thoughts. He was already back on his feet now, staggering but feeling himself improve by the second. Barely two minutes ago, he'd been a mess of bones and gore on the pavement, but now, he was almost entirely healed. Al's systems worked quickly, he had to admit.

"I...I remember now. It was like fighting a cloud, man. Some kind of shadow that just tore me up as soon as it got close. What if it's still around? I gotta GO." Panic rose like bile in his throat and his breathing grew shallow, quick, desperate. He couldn't really explain the primal fear settling into his gut, but fortunately, he didn't have to. Al was part of him - what he felt, Al did.

--Calm down, Zeta. You're having an anxiety attack. Your assailant is long gone. It's definitely time to move, but don't over-exert yourself. You're still healing. Just run a perimeter check, then head home.--

As always, Al was a wonderful and welcome voice of reason. Taking a deep breath, Zeta turned to take in his surroundings. He was in the upper levels of Pittsburgh, judging by how new most of the surrounding structures looked. The street, unlike those on the higher levels of the city, was never built with vehicles in mind, but instead was a purely pedestrian walkway with a few stops for the magnet rail above. Thanks to the repairs underway, no one was here for now - but who knew when a crew might show up?

"Right. So, we good to run?" Zeta asked, stretching his arms over his head, testing how flexible he felt. Healing as extensively as he had needed to was a unique kind of experience. For a few minutes afterwards, he always felt like a freshly born deer or something, all bow-legged and disoriented, and it could be hard to tell when his systems were optimal. Once again: Thank god for Al.

--You're good to go. Coast seems clear. Run an image scan, then I'll map a route.--