Consciousness returned slowly to Alan in a cloud of pain. He was hanging from the edge of a cliff; his harness a tangled mess. Alan attempted to assess the level of his injuries. He glanced down and immediately wished he hadn't. The sharp pole that had supported one of the sides of Mobile Control was sticking from his midriff. Alan slammed his eyes closed but could still see nothing but the horrific injury. He could hear his breaths coming in fast sharp puffs.
Gotta call for help. Alan thought wildly. He knew of course that this was a lost hope from the start. His helmet was no longer on his head although where it had gone Alan had no idea. He panicked with this notion briefly as he tried to work out what he could and could not remember. After a few seconds of blind panic Alan felt memories working their way to the surface. They were not recent memories but Alan sank back down into them anyway as he remembered that reading the inside of his eyelids was a fascinating past time.
As the darkness once more descended he did not hear the pleas for help that escaped the very reason he was hanging from the edge of the cliff.