Ryan woke up slowly, feeling like he had just been run over by a starship, backed over, and then run over again for good measure. His head was filled with a dull, throbbing ache, the psychic hangover from experiencing a god's mind crash and burn.
He wasn't in the weird, gray god-room anymore. He was in his own bed, in his own quarters on the "Odyssey." The familiar, gentle hum of the ship's engines was the most comforting sound he had ever heard.
He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He felt… different. The battle had taken a lot out of him, but it had also left something behind. He could feel it, a new and strange kind of knowledge nestled deep within his mind. It was like he had woken up from a dream and could suddenly speak a new language. A very old, very logical, and very powerful language.
