Consciousness returned to Lóng Hǎifēng like drowning in reverse—being pulled from dark water into air that burned lungs unprepared for breathing. But something was fundamentally wrong with the sensation of waking. The map his brain maintained of his body—the proprioceptive awareness that told him where his limbs existed in space without looking—was screaming contradictions.
There was weight where weight shouldn't be. Pressure along his ribcage that felt like someone had strapped heavy objects to his torso while he slept. His shoulders registered tension from muscle groups that the homunculus—the neurological body map every human brain maintained—insisted didn't exist.
