The Dimensional Soul of Rowan was slowly awakening under the enormous burden of information that he had glimpsed at the instant that he saw Limbo. Everything was blurry, and thinking was difficult, almost as if he was clawing through metal with hands made from clay, but his awakening could not be denied, and his hands of clay molded the metal to his will, and his consciousness snapped into place.
Rowan was aware of a pulse bursting out of his soul at his awakening traveling before him as if it was a herald of his return.
He felt a unique sensation, a sort of soreness permeating every strand of his soul as if he had been stretched far past his limits and he was slowly healing. It was a good feeling, a liberating one because Rowan knew that he was no longer going to be hiding who he was when he returned, he had been a giant, forced to squeeze himself into the form of a man, even if it meant he would be going against all the powers of reality and even those beyond it.
