Man turo Burn, her hand csped in his. As his memories trickled into her brain, she realized Burn had vely omitted the precise moment he decided his father’s life was best ended.
"We art on the precipice of breag the atmosphere. I prithee, hold fast!" Isaiah’s voice thundered in their ears, leaving little room for obje—or sanity.
Man muttered a spell, ing them in a protective energy field, a magical yering worthy of a poorly pnned après-ski party.
Previously, she’d jured a mana rope to tie them snugly between Isaiah's formidable horns, like holiday ors precariously banced on a tree. As they g to the great dragon's head, the atmosphere's iy shifted, remindihat airflow was not always a gentle caress.
With a powerful surge, Isaiah broke free from the clouds, ung into the void above. They experienced a breathless moment of weightlessness, only to be immediately yanked into the hell of harsh reality.
As Man closed her eyes, something siirred within Burn’s psyche, a memory floating up. There he erched beside his frail father, holding onto his hand as if it were the mana rope he was clutg right about now.
Arthur had been deluding himself with a facade of strength, but the charade had frayed at the edges. His suffering was a slow rot that had corroded away not just his vitality but also his dignity.
He was wrong. He couldn’t keep the charade for as long as he thought he could.
Burn uood this. Before Arthur became nothing more than a shadow of his former self, he took it upon himself to intervene.
“Rest, Father.”
Arthur groaned, a sound that had long since lost any resembo the powerful figure he once embodied—more of a worn-out creaking old throne now.
“Rest. Let go of this wretched world,” Burn tinued. “I’ll take over your burdens n.”
The sudden absence of atmospheric pressure hit them like a sharp sp, a ic wake-up call they never signed up for.
As the st remnants of Earth's air were whisked away, they realized they were entering a critical phase—ohat no rational being, or any human, should ever experience, unless, of course, they were auditioning for a death-defyiy show.
For one fleeting sed, they felt the exhirating thrill of freedom, as if the universe had grahem a VIP pass to the void. But that moment was about as brief as a blink of an eye.
Then came the tingliion, the kind that suggested their bodies were hosting a bubbly cocktail party, but only the bubbles were ing from the gases dissolving into their bloodstream. Vacuum pressure!
Reality hit hard, the kind of sp that makes you resider your life choices. Man gripped Burn's hand tighter, her heart rag.
Burn remembered how he had used his Force to invade his father’s bloodstream. With the vacuum of space eagerly closing in, he envisio as déjà vu—the se repying in his mind from ages ago.
“I’ll take it away from you even if you don’t want to. Let it go, Dux Bellorum. Your time has e.”
He recalled the st time Arthur opened his eyes, those eyes staring into the infinite abyss—Burn’s own eyes.
Meanwhile, on top of Isaiah’s head came the glorious realization that, oh joy, they could no longer breathe. The vacuum of space had snatched all the oxygen like a thief in the night, leaving them gasping for what was now just a haunting memory.
Burn’s vision blurred, and his brain screamed for oxygen, which was just rude, really. Light-headedness enveloped him as Man’s eyes widened, almost instinctively holding her breath as if that would help.
She muttered another spell, and the unbearable became somewhat manageable once more.
At the same time, another memory crept into her mind.
Arthur’s eyes deepened, crity breaking through his murky daze. Apparently, even in his state, he could manage a moment of lucidity. Arthur’s heart was now uhe gentle squeeze of Burn’s Force, the rhythm slowing like a relut clock, ing toward a sorrowful pause.
“Rest assured. Take flight and be free, Knight of Logres. From now on, Soulnaught is under my care.”
Burn couldn’t shake the feeling that, in that moment, he was her son nor future king in Arthur’s eyes. No, he was more like the grim reaper’s uudy—ay ed iability, paradoxically f yet ominous, like a warm b made of lead.
Someone who was reassuring, releasing Arthur from his duty.
And just before the curtain fell, he mao whisper— with his st breath—
“Thank you…”
The frigid temperatures of outer space began to seep into their exposed skin, turning Burremities into miniature ice cubes. He felt the cold biting at him, while his core temperature plummeted faster than he had ever experienced.
Even with adrenaline c through him, he sehe creeping chill—a delightful precursor to hypothermia, just a lovely touch. He forced his foan.
Man muttered another spell, her smile radiating warmth—if only she could bottle that for him. Burn couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound evaporating in the vacuum.
Sudden pain shot through his chest, a thrilling reminder of how inhospitable space really was. He felt the moisture in his lungs begin to boil—quite the party trick for anyone who enjoys a little pain.
The very air they’d taken franted had bee a bittersweet memory, repced by a deadly void where the freedom of flight was simply a cruel joke.
As he saw Man trating, casting her protective spells, he mouthed to her, knowing his voice wouldn’t reach her ears in this vacuum, “I’ve adapted now. You take care of yourself.”
Man nodded, her expression serious as she slowly let go of her prote spell for Burn.
Instantly, he felt the radiation exposure hit him, smming into him like a disgruntled ic courier. ic rays? Felt like a warm-up! This was nothing pared to the sheer joy of entering the White Dwarf.
The feeling was somewhat ing, more than the delightful throb of the White Dwarf. He wao vomit. Ah, good ol’ radiation siess—or was it motion siess? Hard to tell when your body’s pying a game of “guess what’s killing you first.”
The st time he felt this nauseous was wheightly grasped his father’s heart with his Force, quite literally f it to stop beating.
Then, not long after, the realization hit—no, he didn’t know how long it took for that once-warm hand to bee as cold as his current surroundings, like an unwanted guest in a frozen wastend.
The void he was navigating wasn’t just physical; it mirrored the cold grip of loss he re-experienow. But hey, who needed warmth when you had the vast expanse of nothio keep you pany?
A fsh of Man’s sad smile awakened him.
Ahh, of course, he wasn’t alone now.
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I love space. Space is like magic. Sce is like magic. Physics rules are like spells. Man...
