It hurts. Everything hurts. And the battle in your memory is blended together into a haze of pain and flashing swords.
You remember enough, though.
You remember the pain.
You remember that you lost.
It was a good sword. It served you well.
They probably took it with them; a symbol of their victory over the Demon King.
You could be hurt and vengeful about a thousand things right now, but none of that really matters.
It doesn't matter.
Because you're awake again.
What will you do?