Pain is subjective.
A notion dictated by threshold and tolerance, by time and adaptation. The nervous system, when exposed to prolonged agony, learns, adjusts. Neural pathways dull, pain becomes a whisper rather than a scream. But it never truly fades, does it?
Yes, my face hurts. A persistent, deep-seated ache, an echo of old wounds that refuse to heal. The kind that lingers beneath the skin, that pulls at the muscle and tightens with every movement. Scar tissue lacks elasticity; the crude stitching restricts. The jaw, stripped of its former function, resists unnatural articulation. Phantom pain - your mind convincing you that what is lost still remains - crawls along dead nerves like an itch that cannot be scratched. And then, of course, there is the chemical exposure. Inhalation burns, a sensation I am familiar with, though not immune to.
But pain... it is not a weakness. It is clarity. A constant, unrelenting reminder of purpose. The body may fray, flesh may tear, but pain remains; a steady companion, a tether to what was taken. It sharpens the mind, strips away illusion, ensures that nothing is forgotten.
I do not seek to silence it. I do not wish for comfort. Pain drives. Pain focuses. It ensures that every breath, every moment, is dedicated to what must be done.
Vengeance is not an impulse... it is inevitability.
- Dr. Jonathan Crane