At least the floor was cold. It was a pleasant counter to the throbbing heat in his gullet. Those were among Greggory's final thoughts before everything went black. He didn't even have time to respond to what would have been his heroes statement before he felt his everything become nothing.

It was dark. Was he falling? Greggory certainly hoped not, falling to death with a knife in his gut was most certainly not his preferred method of exiting the world.
Then again, the void brought up the easy question of if he was in fact dying or dead already? True be told, Greggory had expected it to be a slower, gentler process, not a sudden cut to black void and gut tearing emptiness.

Then it was much less cold. In fact, it was quite the opposite. And then Greggory regained his sense of smell, and it was quite foul. Thick, nauseating, and with a tint of metal. Something quite heavy was up top of him, and with some effort Greggory managed to push the weight off of him, only for it to roll down the hill he appeared to be on. Holding onto his still bleeding gut Greggory blinks his eyes a few times, trying to bring the landscape into focus.
That was when he noticed what he was on top of, and what was on top of him.
Greggory was now the top of a pile of bodies, most of which were broken and twisted, with limbs at inhuman angles and the great heat already bringing the once living flesh to a sizzle. It was then that bile was added to the mix, as Greggory couldn't hold back his disgust. Noting the blood mixed with his puke, and holding back the urge to hurl again, Greggory noted further the environment that he was now in.

Of course it was stupidly hot, that much was apparent. Greggory noted the red stone at the base of the corpse hill, and the jagged environment which hid from sight the horizon. Fire danced up between the rocks, granting illumination to the area, which allowed Greggory to see that there were several other corpse piles, all the them made up of the classmates Greggory had yet to meet. One figure was standing though, that brigand from before stood, and gazed at a wooden sign.
Not able to make it out, Greggory quickly reached around the nearby bodies, quickly finding and placing on his glasses, though grimacing again at the feeling of pain in his stomach. Gritting his teeth Greggory gripped the handle of the knife, which he quickly let go of, realizing how hot it was. Locking his jaw, Greggory tightly gripped the metal knife, and in one painful motion pulled it out, before letting out a scream of pain.

With blood now making an attempt to escape his body Greggory awkwardly pulled off his soiled shirt and, with no better plan, pressed the flat of the warming knife against the wound. It was at this moment that a near constant stream of cusses left Greggory's lips, most of them f**k or some variation there off.