He was frozen in place as more images just flashed by in his mind. None of them made sense, and eventually he felt like he was drowning. Not in water, not in the images, but in the shadows themselves in his mind. It was as though they had turned to tar and sludge and trying to consume him. Trying to pull him further away from the mass of images he was seeing.
His green eyes finally rolled into the back of his head and he fell over. His body made a loud thud as he hit the ground. He never heard the concerns from his cousin, the questions of if he was okay. All he saw was darkness.
It took him what felt like forever to claw his way out of the "sludge" in his mind. The images that made no sense were gone, and he finally awoke. He was no longer in the museum but a hospital in France. His left hand and arm were bandaged up pretty good, and Derek was at his side. Groaning, Dolemeck sat up some, only to realize his clothes were gone and he was in a hospital gown.
"Derek? Is the sword still where it is supposed to be?"
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