Finnick Shadowclaw didn't remember going under.
One second he existed. The next, the world inverted, and on the other side was a life that wasn't his.
The disorientation was total. He was standing, which was wrong, because the last thing his body remembered was horizontal, and the horizontal had been accompanied by exhaustion so complete that standing should have been a medical impossibility. His ribs ached. His shoulder throbbed. His hands were steady, which was the only thing about him that was, because his brain was scrambling through a fog so thick he couldn't find the edges of it.
Where the hell was he?
