Day 2 - Recovering

[Corporal Light]

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Two Hours after the battle

Darkness again. Do I really need to be in darkness a second time in a fucking row? It wasn't even the normal kind of blackness either. It was the worst kind; the sort you can never wake up from and cannot see through no matter how hard you tried. It was the kind that you saw when you've been hurt so badly you can't move more then a few feet without getting dizzy. It was a realm of enduring shadows, and only time would tell if he could pass through without getting lost within it.

Just when he thought he would be wandering the world full of shadows for infinite amount of time, he saw a light off in the distance. It was barely noticeable, but Ballad wasn't one to give up on something like this. Squinting his eyes, he locks his view on the luminescence, taking a confident step forward. Before he could really think about his decision, he surged forward, entering the light.

It took a little while, but eventually Ballad was able to part his eyelids a tiny bit, letting out a small groan as his senses came back to him. What the hell happened to me? Raising his head a few inches above the.... ground, he sees that he wasn't actually on the ground. In fact, he was laying down on a brown table with a length similar to his own in terms of height, and he was in some kind of room. The room he was located had a thin amount of mist floating around the place, which thankfully didn't plague Ballad's vision. He also saw that the area had several other tables just like his own, and he was the only occupant at the moment. A thick stream of sweat slides down the side of his face as he leans upward into a sitting position, bending his knees before wrapping his arms around them... and suffering the consequences.

A sharp throb in his chest causes him to fall back down onto his back, moaning. Peering in discomfort, he slowly lifts up his head once more, rolling his eyes towards the center of his body. Around his torso was a tightly wrapped white bandage, which also appeared to have red blood stains coating the inside of it. Huh? Looking down towards his right hand, he sees a similar looking gauze was on his hand. What the hell did I do to get here?

Closing his eyes, he sets all of his injured body parts down on the table, trying to probe his own mind for more information. Let's see, the last thing I can remember is that I yelled at some kid, met a guy with white-hair, then I signed up for the... tournament. That was it! He participated in the tournament! And he had.... lost. In the first round. Against the... mother-fucking RUNT!

Gritting his teeth, he raises his left hand, clenching it into a fist as he slams it down onto the wooden table, only to let out a few obscenities as he earns a grand amount of aching in his fist. "How... how the hell did I lose?!" he shouted, rage overcoming his sagacity, "I had him! I FUCKING HAD HIM! AND I LOST TO HIM?! A FUCKING KID?!"

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The male doctor had just got done flirting with his female assistant when he heard a gigantic shout coming from the infirmary. Shit, he's awake again. Turning around, he quickly rushes towards the door to the infirmary, his female assistant close behind him. Moving to the right of the doorway, he takes a moment to gaze at his beauty, who was also currently pinching the collar of her shirt and biting her lip. He friggin loved it when she acted like that. It was... attractive, to be honest. The way her long, brown hair curled against her nice, broad shoulders. The look in her sea-colored eyes whenever she was being taught something new by him. The way her admittedly lean figure suavely walked away from him after lectures. The way her-

"Uh, sir? Sir?!"

Snapping out of his fantasies, he sputters "Oh! Uh.. sorry.. sorry.." in an embarrassed tone of voice, regaining his focus. Oh right, Executioner Ballad. He could still remember rushing out there to recover the body as the crowd went silent, and never really became much louder when he left the field. Shame too. He had become a dataverse sensation within a single day, which wasn't much of an accomplishment, but it was something. Anyways, down to business.

Turning his head towards his female friend, he asks "Alright.. you have the board ready?" She nods back to him, which calms him down a bit. Then, gripping the handle of the door, he twists the handle downwards, pushing the door forwards and stepping inside.
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Even considering the fact he was in a world of pain, it was astonishing how hardy Ballad was. He had been able to stand up, left hand covering his torso wound, and slowly walk into the center of the room by the time the two medics got into the room. He was still sweating from his eyebrows and other parts of his face, with the mist not exactly helping him from feeling uncomfortable in his winter clothes; it almost made him want to remove his attire, something he had never considered up until right now. His eyes were now wide open, enabling him to see in perfect clarity. Scanning the room, he stops as he hears the sound of footsteps approaches to his rear. Whirling around, grimacing as he clasps his right hand, he notices the two new individuals. They were both wearing perfectly snow-white outfits, with one of them having a bag of some sorts strapped to their hip. The other had a wood, two foot board in her hands, grasping it tightly and raised above her head.

Immediately, the board triggered the rest of his memories to come back. This wasn't the first time he had awoken from his slumber, and these assholes had to put him back to sleep each time he tried to break free of the painful chains that forced him to stay in this poor excuse of a hospital. What was worse was the fact that he didn't even need them to help him. They were a nuisance, and a nuisance only.

Snarling behind his red-scarf, he growls "So, you're going to try to hit me with a fucking stick again, are you whore?" Those words caused the female to flinch, bringing the board down and close to her breasts. The man next to her glared at him, holding out his right arm in front of the woman. Pausing between his words every few seconds, he replies "I know you're angry. You've been angry several times for a while already. But you aren't in proper shape to be moving around. You need to rest."

Ballad wasn't accepting that answer. He bellows "Fat chance I need 'rest,' you idiotic quack! All I need is an hour or so of concentrating, and all of my problems will go away!"

"Then concentrate," the doctor retorted, as if daring him as a a look of dead seriousness formed on his face, "and heal your wounds with the Omnillium you posses, Prime."

"Just you watch, moron. I can easily-"

A shooting sensation blazed through Ballad's chest, causing him to howl in agony as he leans to his left, almost falling down onto his knees. The doctors rushed forward, holding him up by his bend arms before lying him back down onto the cot.