Stumbling, blood-soaked, he barely manages a few steps before he collapses on the steps of his shop. He's not sure how he
teleported here; he's not sure how he's still alive, honestly. Palazzo is a ball of agony right now, and he's glad his book has fallen out. He's been stabbed through the hand, stabbed in the shoulder, stabbed via ice in the legs, burned, electrocuted, punched in the face and slammed into hard surfaces several times and he's feeling it.
It takes him a few tries to turn on the book, his fingers bloody as they are, one eye swelling with a bruise, but he does. He blinks into the camera, once, twice, licks his lips and says, very calmly:
"Help, please."
And with that, he slumps into a faint.