The world swam back into focus with a dull, throbbing ache behind Kenjiro's eyes. He pushed himself up, the rough cobblestones of the medieval market square cold against his palms. The last thing he remembered was the overwhelming surge of power, the satisfying crunch of stone as his shadows obliterated the ogres, and then... nothing. He was back in his own, slender body, the phantom strength a fading, dream-like memory.
"Oh," he said, his voice a little shaky as he got to his feet. "It seems I got exhausted." He offered a weak, tired smile to his party, who were gathered around him, their faces a mixture of awe, concern, and raw, undisguised shock.
