Hagiel woke with a pounding head and an aching body. A low, exhausted groan left him as he tried and failed to get up by pushing himself off the rough stone floor.
He hadn't moved so much as an inch.
HIs head spun, dizzy and painful at the attempt and the Lamanter grunted as he flopped back down onto the rough stone floor that he found himself against, panting a little as his ribs and lungs screamed in agony together.
Opening his eyes - which Hagiel admits to himself that he probably should have done, reveals naught but a pitch black dark that should not be possible, as he is wearing his armor, including his helmet. He's not some cocky Ultramarine with luck to spare (or an Iron Halo) so when he's on the battlefield he wears his helmet to protect himself from debris, danger and the bad luck that has plagued him for as long as he can remember.
His arms were stuck beneath his torso, so he couldn't reach up to tap at his helmet.
Shaking his head back and forth as he tries to get the HUD to come on was a profoundly bad idea, as doing so caused a deeply unpleasant and intense spinning sensation within his head that was nearly enough to get him to vomit.
Vomiting inside one's helmet was a uniquely unpleasant experience that Hagiel did not want to repeat. Once was miserable enough. A quiet grunt left him as he let his head rest back on the ground. He focused on his body, first wiggling his toes. He's... Pretty sure that they moved when he wanted them to? He hoped that his mind wasn't providing him with phantom feedback.
Next he tries moving his feet, which he gets an inch, perhaps two of movement, before whatever is pressing down on him restricts his movement. His knees are almost completely immobilized, although Hagiel can feel them trying to bend, though his own armor without power is heavy.
The Lamenter hopes that his battery back has simply been disconnected from his armor somehow, rather than because the nuclear housing has been damaged to the point that it's no longer functional. The armor he wears can protect him from many things, but there is only so long unpowered it can protect him from the many and varied effects of begin exposed to nuclear radiation this close. He shifts his hips side to side, which he gets a couple of inches of movement before running into... Whatever it is that is keeping him pinned. He can feel his fingers, then his wrists wiggle a little and move in his gauntlets. Elbows are almost completely immobilized, however. As are his shoulders.
Not great, but he can try to work with what movements he does have in order to try and get himself free.
At least, that's the hope.
Hagiel closes his eyes and breathes in and out deeply, trying to taste for any impurities in the air that would mean that the void=seal on his armor has been compromised.
Clean, well-cycled air is the only thing he can taste or smell.
Thank Father for small mercies.
Hagiel takes in as deep of a breath as his injured lungs and current confinement allow him and hold it for several seconds, before letting the air leave him.
It occurs to him now that he might want to try the vox in his helmet, and Hagiel feels very foolish for the five seconds it takes for him to activate the device.
It does not so much as pop or hiss in acknowledgement.
Worse than static. It’s as dead as the rest of his armor.
Hagiel tries to remember what the fuck he’d been doing before he woke up like this, but attempting to reach for those memories was an exercise in mental - and perhaps psychic - agony. His head throbbed worse than ever as all of the nerves in his body were lit on fire by something or someone.
“Arrrghhh!” Hagiel hissed, letting go of trying to remember whatever the fuck it was that he was doing to end up in this particular situation. Focusing on what he couldn’t do was going to be a one-way ticket to falling into despair, now it was time to plan and try to figure out if he was going to be able to free himself, or if it would be best to allow himself to fall into a suspended animation sleep while he waited for his brothers to come rescue him.
It would be better if he did fall asleep, than to stay awake in this oppressive, painful dark, conserve what energy he had and allow his body to heal more effectively. Not that he was going to try to sleep before attempting to save himself a few times. His feet and legs did have some movement, so he first attempting to push against whatever kind of material his feet were braced against, to try and move even the smallest bit forward.
No forward movement.
Hagiel tried again, as he wasn’t going to give upon the first brush with failure. If he had done that, he would have been declared unfit for Astartes-hood as an Aspirant. He attempted to push himself forward a second time, after repositioning where he felt his armored feet to be, in the hopes that this small change would grant him even the tiniest amount of momentum.
Again, no forward movement.
The Lamenter sergeant took in a deep, steadying breath and held it for several seconds, before allowing the air to leave his lungs. This lack of progress was mildly frustrating, yes. But not surprising, given the strange circumstance that he has found himself in. This time, he kicks his feet up and down, side to side, getting his knees and hips involved as well, in the hopes that the motions would loosen the grip of whatever was holding him fast to the ground enough to get some sort of forward momentum going when he attempted it for the third time. He pushed even harder, ignoring the way his head spun and ribs protested his exertion.
No forward movement.
Fuck!
Hagiel refused to acknowledge the emotion that was clawing at his hearts that was not frustration at the situation he found himself in. Giving into despair and melancholy, as he has seen several of his other brothers do, will not help him. He must carry on, resolute in. His duties to the Imperium of Man. For those he cherishes, he will fight and attempt to overcome any trial, test or enemy he is given. He lifts up his chest and torso the scant motion he is able to do and very, very slowly works first one arm, and then the other free.
Success!
He moves his arms out and over to the sides, grasping at whatever it was that was keeping him pinned. Unlike the firm, rocky ground that he was on, the thing that was keeping him pressed down had a degree of flexibility and give that suggested that it either had rubber or flesh like properties. Hagiel was hesitant to remove one of his gauntlets to touch whatever was keeping him pinned with a bare hand, as that was a fast way to get exposed to all sorts of pathogens and touched based corruption. Instead he braced his arms on either side of himself and pushed hard with both his arms and legs with all his strength, silently offering prayers to both Sanguinius and the Emperor that this would work.
Squelch!
Pop!
Hagiel felt himself tug free of the thing that had held him fast to the ground, moving forward several victorious inches.
A grin appeared on his face at the hard won victory. He blindly felt the ground in front of him, latching onto something hard and firm - perhaps a jutting of rock? and pulled with all of his might, ignoring the way that his lungs screamed in protest and pushed with his feet.
Inch by glorious, hard worn inch, the Lamenter slowly and laboriously pulled himself free of the thing that had held him in place. Once his legs were fully, gloriously free - and Hagiel knew this because he could freely kick and move his feet about, free from the crushing imprisonment of before he allowed himself a moment to rest, panting with the effort and the vertigo plaguing him incredibly intense.
He had done it! He had freed himself from being trapped!
The darkness was no lighter, and he still had no idea where he was, but those were mysteries for later. His breath now normal, Hagiel decided to sit up and -
The vertigo spiked higher than he had ever felt it in his life and the intensity of the dizzying, spinning sensation proved to be too much for him to handle and his head swayed dangerously as his body went unhelpfully limp, his armored head banging back onto the ground as the darkness seemed to thicken somehow, his mind going blank
