[It hurts in a distant sense, like he's experiencing it two inches to the left of himself. A throbbing in his hands, where tiny red crescents tear into his skin, a pounding in his head. The after-ache of bruising roaring down the parts of him where Jay manages to reach.]
[If they slow him down, he doesn't feel it. Nothing hurts in comparison to the pain he knows to be absolute.]
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[If they slow him down, he doesn't feel it. Nothing hurts in comparison to the pain he knows to be absolute.]
[It'll all be over.]
[He slams his fist into Jay's jaw.]