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He was falling.
g=9.8 m/sec^2
The wings were dead weight bringing him down faster than ever.
This was going to hurt. If only he knew what physical pain meant.
The impact sent shockwaves ripping the tarmac in a circular fashion and he lay at the centre of the broken tar and concrete. He wasn’t human yet because no human could have survived the free fall and stood up after that, brush off the bruises and look around.
He was in the middle of the financial district-deserted at 11 PM on the Sunday night.
He broke into the nearest building. There was no guard, no nightwatchmen to stop him. He kicked open the door of the nearest room down and entered the mens room. He needed a mirror to get rid of the dead weight.
And to see how human he looked.
