Gradually, more sensation returned, more sense of self, of a physical form he thought he had long ago lost. He could feel something solid under him, and when more strength returned to his limbs and optics, he could feel and see a solid surface around him. Very near to him. Illuminated by a soft blue glow that seemed to be coming from his chest.

Wing was by no means claustrophobic and the dead did not frighten him, but he wanted out of this place. He wanted out of it badly. If he had fallen in battle, there was only one place that he could now be - the mausoleum. And that glow coming from his own being where there had been none before worried him.

"Help..." His voice came out tiny and it surprised him how much he did not sound like himself. Desperate, he tried again.

"Help... Please..." Wing lifted a leg, knocking what he could against something, anything to make sound. "Someone..."