When awareness broke at last into Gellert's mind, it came slowly, laden with the weight of a sort of exhaustion that Gellert could not remember having experienced before in his life. The world spun drowsily back into his reality, punctuated by a fast but steady beeping sound followed by the rustle of paper, and at last the dull chatter and footfalls of people. Not people nearby, but...somewhere, people.
After consciousness came memory. His office, about to begin a meeting. An adviser. White, or Weiss, or something. Weiss. Jeremy Weiss. Only it wasn't Weiss, not really, was it, because then--
Then had come pain, lancing through his gut, and the tell-tale fire of Dark Magic shooting itself through his veins. Weiss had said something, told him something, but Gellert's dazed mind could not quite grasp at the words...but it had not been Weiss.
But there was no pain now. Just the heavy saturation of whatever potions they'd put him on saturating his limbs, dragging him down. Gellert parted his lips, took in a sharp and shuddering breath. His lungs expanded, his eyes blinked quickly open. Briefly, the ceiling spun overhead before finally he was able to focus on the light, letting all else settle down into solid, firm reality around him.