At first, there was only darkness. Not the kind that comes when you close your eyes, but the kind that stretches forever. Heavy. Empty.
Then, pain.
It slithered through his limbs, slow at first, then fast—lightning through nerves, searing, burning. He gasped. Tried to move. Nothing.
Where was he?
The last thing he remembered was the explosion. The ship shaking, alarms screaming. Fire in the corridors. Running. The desperate scramble for the escape pod. Then—impact. Silence.
He forced his eyes open. A cracked visor. Red emergency lights blinking, dim and weak. His breath came in short, ragged bursts. Oxygen low.
He reached for the console, fingers trembling. A single button glowed. Distress signal: Sent.
Would they come?
He tried to remember the protocol. How long before a rescue ship could reach this sector? Hours? Days?
He exhaled. Frost crawled along the edges of his helmet. His breath came slower now, the cold slipping into his bones.
He had fought for this. For the mission. For the war. And now, the battle was over.
A faint beep. A light flickered on the console. A signal.
His lips cracked into something like a smile. Maybe… maybe he wasn’t alone after all.
Maybe someone was still out there.
Then, the light faded.
And the darkness came again.
