Emmanuel. Emmaaaaanuel. Dude. A booming voice echoes throughout Emmanuel's consciousness. It is full of unimaginable power, but warm and inviting. This voice could only belong to one entity. It belongs to Samuel, God of Lions (And Bread). An entity of such power that even the smallest inkling of it would destroy a normal mind, and Emmanuel's chosen deity of worship.
In Emmaneul's mind, Samuel appears. He takes the form of a massive lion man, easily nine feet in height, stacked to the nines with muscle, weighing in at about 800 pounds. The man is huge. The rest of Emmanuel's conciousness is fairly blank, considering the fact that his ass was knocked out five ways to Sunday by Polaris. So right now, its just him and Samuel. Not a terrible thing for Emmanuel. Their conversations are always pleasant, and its been some time since they've had one.
"Dude, you really got your tail handed to you by that Polaris jackass. You used up all your power, AND went for a dick kick? I thought I taught you better than that brah." Samuel looks at Emmanuyel with a slight look of disappointment etched into his features. Really? A dick kick? How disgraceful, that look says. Aint no way for a man to fight.
" Samuel, you know as well as I do that there was no way for me to beat him. He outclassed me so far, its a miracle that I even managed to damage him in the first place. You know my body cant handle full power for more than a minute and I wasnt even able to touch him through that shitty ass barrier thing he had up. That was the only option I had available to me. He was a monster, and I almost died fighting him! In fact, I think I might BE dead! Am I dead? Is that why you're here? Cause I got my shit pushed in?"
Samuel shakes his head. "Naw, I just came to chat a bit. Talk to you bout what you could do in the future to not get rekt so hard. I think what it boils down to is becoming more efficient at using your power. Having enough power to atomize opponents is nice, but useless if it atomizes you along with it. I could put you back together, but it'd take me a hundred or more years to do it. Not really an option for someone in your line of duty, yeah? Talk to that Volt guy if you get a chance, he seems to have a pretty good grasp of what he can do, at least in comparison to you. Now, I think its about time for you to wake up, yeah? You've been out for more than a week." And with a snap of his fingers, a blinding light courses throughout Emmanuel's mind.
The poor doctors in Emmanuel's room are having a hell of a time. Since he used all of his power, Emmanuel's body has gone into a sort of self preservation state. When hooking him up to machines for monitoring purposes, Emmanuel just sucks the juice right out of it, along with the power in all the other electronics in the room. After a couple of hours of trying to get power to stay, the doctors decided that it would be a better use of their time to just go. Emmanuel's already casted up, and the wheelchair is right there in case he needs it, but they have other patients to see and need to get going.
"EuuuuuuuuuuuuugHAH" With a jolt and a sharp intake of breath, Emmanuel bolts upright in his bed as he regains consciousness, immediately regretting such fast movements. His hand goes down to his leg, trying to squeeze and massage some of the pain away, though the cast makes that a hard time indeed. Nothings broken in his leg, but his muscles are worn away, and until they come back, he'll need that cast. Thankfully, the League has state of the art medical technology, and the cast is form fitting and smooth, allowing him to move his leg, enough to walk, but not enough to hurt his leg more. So, very gently lowering himself out of bed, he begins limping down the hall to see if he can find anyone who matters around here and can tell him what went down after he lost. He also has to make a conscious effort to not suck the power out of everything he passes. He knows there are a lot of people who could probably use it more than he could.