The Day and the Hour
Jason Grae is a man of unique power; a man whose suffering rivals the Passion of Christ himself. His is not a power you might associate with the modern mythologies of comic books or film, but something as austere as knowledge. Yet Jason's knowledge is the immortal reserve of gods—the absolute knowledge of his own matter—and it renders him invulnerable for all the days of his life preceding March 11th, 2004.
Like most power, it does not come without a price.
I’m moving in darkness. A strange electric current hums through my body. A heat builds in my chest, but I’m not sweating. My breath is coming fast, but isn’t ragged; it feels mechanical. I keep waiting for my eyes to adjust to the pitch, but they never do.Though is transient; fragile. Where am I? (Afghanistan.) The LZ’s compromised! I’m being overrun! I need artillery now. Now, damnit, NOW! (Too late.) There’s a jolt at the base of my neck, I taste ozone, and I’m moving. Pushed beyond human limit. A vessel. Empty except for the heat in my chest; the buzz of electricity traveling the roads of my nervous system; the shape of old memories—like a trunk under a dusty sheet—in the attic of my mind. My name is Ibrahim Umarzai. I am dead, but I remember…