It was Ai Hui's sixth time regaining consciousness.
He felt as though he was being torn apart once more; the sensation bound him so tightly that he had to open his mouth wide to gasp for air. He could feel an inch of flesh tearing under his skin. It was tearing, regrowing, reorganizing, and tearing again in an endless cycle.
His past five experiences had been very brief and he had woken up to immediate and immense pain each time. He could acutely sense that his window of consciousness was lengthening.
He extended his hand, or rather sharp-as-a-hook claw, and let out a bitter laugh. If the others were to see him in this monstrous state, they would probably be beyond shocked.
Was he still considered human?
