As soon as we reached where the now-sat Jericho was positioned on the ground, I sat down beside him.
Marcus grunted as he lay down on the ground, letting out a final, satisfied sigh.
I assumed a fairly comfortable position where I sat as I closed my eyes and drew in a really, really deep breath that circulated my chest and stomach.
I breathed out, opening my eyes.
My eyelids felt heavy.
Finally, I can rest.
My tensed body calmed down, my shoulder falling as I sat still, enjoying the warmth of this place.
It wasn't comfortable, don't get me wrong. Yes, it smelled so badly in here. Yes, the air didn't really feel like air and felt like an artificial gas made up of fart, blood and body odor. Yes, the floor I sat on was rough and hard, pressing against my ass like a damn rock… But still!
None of this... none of it was more uncomfortable than dying, resurrecting and 'almost dying' again and again.
None of it was more uncomfortable than confronting an Avendar or an Endorath.
