Chapter 5

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Zane was not enjoying being in a million pieces.

He felt as if he could see, hear, smell, and feel with every particle that now floated around the room. His vision was a kaleidoscope and he saw a million Josephs and a million decks of cards. He smelled metal and rubber and sweaty two day-old clothes. He heard the faint sounds of terror from around the building and Joseph's heavy labored breathing. The particles closest to Joseph felt the heat of his breath or his smooth skin as they rubbed against his arm. These warm sensations were rivalled by the rough texture of the thousands of particles brushing up against the steel and the rivets and bolts in the wall. There was simply too much sensory input, and he found his consciousness drifting further and further away.

No, he told himself. If you die like this it'd be pretty pathetic. He struggled to shove all other senses to the back of his mind and draw his vision forward.

He saw the room from a million different angles. His kaleidoscope vision captured everything and missed nothing. He saw the roughed up edges of the playing cards and the grimace of the king as if mocking his predicament. He saw the syringe, made of himself, a lasting memento. He caught a glimpse of a drop of the pink serum still inside it. He moved his focus over and found Joseph's battered rubber ball, long forgotten, laying upon the cold steel floor. He saw a small chip gouged out of it with clear clarity.

And his eyes saw Joseph. Zane presumptuously sighed, although he couldn't be sure he actually did. With more than a million eyes, most had turned to Joseph. What a surprise. Zane's conscious mind perked up a little bit, and he anticipated he had found the solution to his bodily problem. His eyes saw singular strands of Joseph's dark brown hair, and a small mole on the nape of his neck. They found his fearful blue eyes and saw a small fleck in the iris of his left eye. Zane could see just what a beautiful sky blue they were, and his nonexistent face smiled. His vision focused further and further, finding a stray thread on the hem of his shirt and a small strip of skin on his stomach. They found a blister on his left foot and a throbbing vein in his neck.

Zane knew how to beat this disembodiment problem and return back to normal. When he honed his sight and reined in his other senses, his consciousness became sharper and his thoughts clearer. When he saw and thought of Joseph, his mind cleared almost entirely and let him gain a shred of hope. He needed something from his old body to ground him, to tie him to that old body. That thing was Joseph.

First, he pictured his old body. He saw himself through his mind's eye, his tall, slightly built stature. He envisioned his golden blond hair, always pushed to the right side. He saw his green eyes as he had through a mirror many times before. He saw their spring leaf color, as if they were staring straight back at him. He thought of his slightly jutted chin and his larger-than-normal ears. He could see his whole body, and the particles vibrated as if sensing, wanting to return to that form.

Then he pictured Joseph. He thought of him as his many ocular particles had seen him; his dark hair, his sky blue eyes, and yes, even the strip of bare skin, because who was he kidding?

He pictured Joseph's muscular build and his deteriorating tan. He thought of his boyish smile and tendency for rebellion. He recalled the conversations they had had; at The Hub, the first time he had ever heard Joseph's soft timbre, on the train, when Joseph had tried to warn him, and the many conversations they had had in this room. He thought of Joseph's charming laugh which made Zane smile.

His particles whizzed together.

They congregated in the center of the room, next to Joseph, who was spluttering some nonsense about headless horsemen. The particles whirled into a small cyclone, and he closed his metaphorical eyes to avoid extreme dizziness. He could feel a pair of feet come together, and through some miraculous happening, his toes wiggled without a brain ordering them to. He felt his knees reform and slowly his waist and hips built and he felt his torso come back into existence. Something was wrong, though. His hips felt wider than usual and when he regained his arms, he felt his stomach. Yes, his abdominal muscles were more defined. He did not work out enough to be that ripped. His shoulders formed slightly broader than normal and Joseph released a small squeak, perhaps of terror, apprehension, or indignation.

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