Ghiaccio's head was pounding as he opened his eyes, sight blurry and uncertain. Where was he? What happened? The last thing he remembered -- A bullet flying towards him. -- Well, had he died?

Looking around, he was in somebody's bedroom?... His sight was still screwed. He didn't feel like he was in Heaven, but it wasn't hot enough to be Hell. Ghiaccio managed to sit up, despite the screaming migraine in the back of his skull.