Feeling the jolting beneath him and something seemingly weighing on his legs, Nick secretly cracked his eyes open, then let out a slight sigh of relief.
He was still in the film world. The one weighing him down was not the female ghost "Xiao Dahammer," but her good gal pal "Root"-or, more precisely, the female researcher who looked like "Root."
The woman lay across his legs in a somewhat awkward position, her eyes closed. A few teardrops still clung to her slightly long, upturned lashes.
Nick tried to check where he had been shot earlier. The Predators' weapons were excellent, but their armor was another story. Its coverage of vital areas was even worse than a Saint Cloth's, and to top it off, the design sucked. Aside from looking intimidating, it was good for nothing.
Given a choice, he still preferred full-body powered exoskeletal armor like Iron Man's.
Earlier, when his invisibility failed and he came under concentrated fire, he had promptly brought out that thin but unbelievably sturdy metal shield to protect his front, but he had still taken several deflected, ricocheting rounds.
He had come within a hair of dying in the darkest hour before dawn.
Perhaps disturbed by Nick's movements, the researcher abruptly woke from her light doze. The delight on her face did not look feigned. "Oh God, you're finally awake."
"How long was I asleep?" Nick glanced at the sky outside the window. Thick clouds still covered it, making it impossible to tell whether it was morning or afternoon.
"Less than three hours. It's probably around nine in the morning now." Seeing him try to undo his bandages to inspect his injuries, the woman quickly reached out to help, looking thoroughly docile and considerate.
Whether it was an attraction to strength or simply that Nick's