As he attempted to rise, a sense of disorientation washed over him. "Something's different now," he muttered, feeling the weight of his own physicality. Standing up, the sheet draped over him slipped away, leaving him exposed.
"Something happened to me - I'm not sure what, but it feels like I died again... Yet, it's different this time. I feel - alive."
"Why do I feel like a foreigner in my own body? Why is it so cold - wait... Cold? I'm not supposed to feel cold. I shouldn't be able to feel anything at all," the man muttered as he attempted to walk.
"But I can feel the floor under my feet. I can feel the room's air current breezing through my body. This is too strange for me to understand. It's never happened to me before," he thought, bewildered by the sensations coursing through him.
Then a sudden realization struck him. he muttered, "It's that woman - she did this to me. All of this happened because she saw me. Yet I don't understand how she did it - it should be impossible for her to see me."
"This room reeks of death," the man remarked. "Given the equipment and the design itself, I'd wager this is the morgue. It appears that if I hadn't woken up, I would have been dissected."
"I need to get out of here before the coroner returns and realizes that this corpse is very much alive," he muttered to himself. The realization that he now possessed a physical body suggested that all people could see him. "Damn it," he cursed inwardly, "otherwise, how else could they have transported me here and left me unclothed?"
"Let's see if there's anything I can wear around here. Though I am perfect in every way, this sight is too shameful to show others. I must clothe myself," he murmured, scanning the room for any clothes he could find.
As he cautiously navigated the sterile environment of the morgue, the man scanned every corner for any signs of clothing. The morgue's cold metallic surfaces and the faint hum of refrigeration units added to his sense of urgency. His eyes darted from one shelf to another, hoping to catch a glimpse of fabric among the medical equipment and supplies.
After a few minutes of searching, he noticed a small locker tucked away in a corner near the operating table. With a surge of hope, he approached it and cautiously opened the locker door. Inside the shelf, were the coroner's spare clothes - practical scrubs and a white lab coat.
Relief washed over him as he quickly retrieved the clothes. They were slightly oversized, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Quickly , he slipped into the scrubs, feeling a strange mix of discomfort and gratitude.
Once dressed, he buttoned up the lab coat, concealing the scrubs underneath. Despite the slight looseness, the clothes provided protection against the chilly air of the morgue. He adjusted the coat collar and sleeves, trying to blend in as much as possible with the typical attire of medical staff.
Feeling more composed now that he was decently dressed, he glanced around the morgue once more, ensuring he hadn't left any evidence of his unexpected revival. Satisfied that everything looked undisturbed, he took a deep breath and prepared to leave the room.
"Alright, that covers that. Now all I need to do is use Final Voyage to get out of here," the man muttered, his brow furrowing in concentration. He closed his eyes tightly, focusing his thoughts and centering his energy. With a deep breath, he whispered, "Now, go."
Opening his eyes expectantly, he found himself standing in the exact same place. "What?" he exclaimed, taken aback by the lack of change.
"Maybe I didn't concentrate hard enough," he muttered to himself, trying to reassure his confused mind.
He took another deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "Okay, okay, you got this, me," he muttered to himself, trying to muster confidence. "You've done this a million times - there's no reason why you can't do it now. Come on, me, let's do this! ."
Closing his eyes tightly, he squinted hard, groaning and clenching his fists for effect. "And go," he whispered as he opened his eyes, only to find himself standing in the same place once more. "No, no, no!" he panicked, frustration increasing. "What the hell is going on? Why can't I teleport?"
He tried multiple times, each attempt ending in failure. With each failed attempt, his hope dwindled until he finally sank to his knees in sadness, realizing the truth: he truly could not teleport.
Then suddenly, he had a realization. "Wait, let me try the other ones. Yes, let's try those and see if they work. Maybe teleportation is just grumpy today, that's why I can't use it," he said, standing up and dusting himself off, letting out an awkward laugh.
After a few minutes of hopeless effort, none of his attempts worked, and he fell to his knees in despair again. His face twisted in anguish, he began to cry, uttering, "Why, why, why? Why is this happening to me? First, I die and become human, and now I can't use my powers anymore," he said, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"What did I do to deserve this?" he added, his voice tinged with frustration and confusion. He sat there for a few minutes, lost in thoughts, unsure of what to do next.
Another realization struck him as he said, "Wait a minute, I didn't die when I touched the patient. I died right after that woman grabbed my hand, which should be damn impossible in the first place. Yes, that's right, I remember now. She did this somehow - she's responsible for all this mess. I blame her for this. I have to find her and figure out how to fix this."
"Well, I'm not Sherlock Holmes, but it should be obvious that since her touching me took my powers away, then her touching me again should bring them back... I think," said the man with a laugh, running his hand through his black curly hair, evidently proud of his deduction. "Sometimes my own genius frightens me," he added, standing up and dusting himself off again.
"First things first, I need to get out of here before someone finds me," said the man. "Since I'm wearing the coroner's clothing, it should be easy to slip out without a problem." He walked confidently towards the door, hoping to leave unnoticed.
He reached for the door with his right hand and pulled it towards him. As he took a step forward, his heart sank when he saw a police officer walking straight towards him.
"Oh no," he uttered under his breath, feeling a surge of panic as he wondered how he would explain his unexpected presence in the morgue.