All I need is right here...

He awakens from a haze of bewilderment, and as the fog and dust clears he can see his reflection in the sky. He gets up from the ground, still shaky from past hurt, yet oddly acute and aware. He pats through his body, making sure all of his limbs are intact, that none lost their heading during his implosion. There seems to be no immediate harm, bruises here and there, but his outsides remain healthy. Then he searches for his heart, and he is instantly stricken with panic, because he cannot feel a pulse. His breath becomes heavy. His mind starts to cloud. And then ... a beat. So quiet, so faint, like it's afraid to draw attention to itself. It whispers that it needs more time. That it's feigned death in order to survive. He calms down. His breath slows. He closes his eyes and with an almost blasphemous conviction promises that he shall rebuild. He shall grow anew, and one day, when the beating of his heart is strong once again, not even thunder will be able to quench its roar.