Air flooded his lungs.
Chen Mo coughed as sand and dirt caught in his throat.
On his third cough, Chen Mo opened his eyes, braced a hand against the cot beneath him, and sat straight up.
A grayish-white concrete ceiling met his eyes, with two cracks running across it. An old ceiling fan hung in the center, its blades turning slowly, making a soft click with every rotation.
Click.
Click.
A louder noise came from outside the window.
A shell landed on the other side of the city. The glass had long since been shaken out, and the old blanket nailed over the window frame billowed into the room. Dust fell from the plaster into the copper basin beside his bed.
Chen Mo sat on the bed, blinked twice, and clapped a hand over his heart.
A heartbeat.
"Holy shit."
He was back.
He really was back.
His heart was racing, and his breathing was a little ragged, but the rest of his body was almost excessively healthy. He could raise his shoulders and bend his spine, and his legs didn't go weak when he planted his feet on the floor.
Lord Fate had finally abandoned his special operation targeting Spider-Man's demon!
Chen Mo looked down at his palm. The wound the webbing had sliced open at the end had already closed. The lines of his palm lay intact across his skin, without even a fresh scar left behind.
The healing factors Deadpool and Logan had left him clearly hadn't followed his consciousness off on vacation to Heaven.
They had been working overtime in his body all this time.
Chen Mo clenched his fists, then twisted his waist and back.
Good.
Aside from his brain possibly needing a psychiatric follow-up, his body was fit to keep using for now.
Where