(Meanwhile, Raymond's POV)
'Is this a bad dream?'
Raymond's decapitated head wondered, as even though it had been severed from his body, consciousness still clung to him for a few fleeting moments, stubbornly refusing to accept what his senses were trying to tell him as the world tilted strangely and the sky felt far too close.
Something was wrong.
There was no weight.
No body.
No breath moving through his lungs.
And yet, vision and thought persisted.
'Huh? What's going on?'
He wondered, as sound arrived in fragments, distorted and distant, as if the battlefield had been pushed far away from him, muffled beneath layers of cotton and blood, while the ground rushed up toward him far too slowly.
'How did he even move that fast?'
