Page 45

I’m floating in a storm of images and emotions, each twisting into Kazumi’s agonized form. The scene replays like a horror film I can’t escape: her body writhing in the cold void, lifeless eyes piercing through the darkness.

She reaches for me with twitching, insect-like movements, her gray, bloated face frozen in a sneer.

I sink to my knees, choking on guilt and regret, but her dead gaze offers no forgiveness—only hatred.

It’s too much. This place, once my sanctuary, now belongs to Kazumi’s ghost. My mind reels, I jerk recoiling, desperate to wake up, to escape the nightmare.

Suddenly, the darkness shifts. Countless points of light shoot out from the void, coalescing into new shapes.

I watch, transfixed, as the lights swirl into a brilliant display of orange and red, forming a landscape of blazing infernos.

A wave of warmth floods over me, washing away the cold that has gripped me for so long.

I gasp at the sight of a vast expanse of firestorms, framed by towering volcanoes spewing molten lava into a crimson, simmering sky.

A world of fire and heat. It fills me with warmth, a welcome change from my all-encompassing icy abyss.

Even the ground beneath my feet is a bubbling river of magma.

It should sear me, melt my flesh in scorching agony, but instead, it sustains me—because I belong here.

Kazumi’s ghost appears in this world of flames, trapped. A twisted mockery of darkness in a place of blazing light—it feels fundamentally wrong. The specter must know it too, pausing its relentless pursuit, its head twisting in unnatural angles toward the flaming heavens.

Then, like a scene from a disaster film, an immense blazing comet descends from the sky, crashing into the ground with a deafening roar.

The entire world quakes, spewing vapor and jets of molten rock into the air.

I try to scream, but no sound escapes my lips—only steam as if I, too, am made of fire, a part of this molten realm.

The burning comet is not a comet at all, but an impossible enormity.

I watch in awe as the behemoth of liquid fire and blazing flames unfurls, limbs and wings stretching into the cosmos.

It fills the entire world, defying everything, setting even the void of space ablaze with its glorious heat.

I laugh with manic elation, but only smoke escapes my lips.

I love it—this entity, so powerful it floods me with a strange excitement.

Kazumi’s ghost shrieks in something that might be fear.

Her form stutters and trembles as if trying to fade from existence, but she can’t escape this world of flames.

The behemoth lowers a massive, fiery hand from the heavens.

As it draws closer, the hand grows until it blocks out everything, a burning continent.

The ghost writhes under its touch, and then—instantly—is reduced to black cinders, her ashes scattered by the fiery winds, leaving nothing behind.

The molten giant continues its descent, and soon I too will be touched by its flames. But I feel no fear. I welcome it with open arms, longing for its scorching heat to consume me, to fill me with its presence.

I close my eyes and smile as it makes contact. A blazing heat caresses my skin, burning away the last traces of the cold void that clung to me. This warmth—I know it. It’s like the heat I felt from Dracoth when he carried me.

It should frighten me, like he frightens me, but instead I feel protected with a surge of.

.. life. The sensation is difficult to name, like a burst of insatiable lust for life, a fierce passion that courses through me.

It’s the opposite of the depression that has burrowed deep in my soul like some hidden parasite.

I gasp as this strange newfound energy drives the void back, burying it deep inside me, leaving behind a tingling buzz of elation and resolve.

When I open my eyes, I find myself back in the cold cell, already missing that strange place of flames. I wish I could have remained there, basking in that presence, brimming with strength and warmth.

What the hell was it?

Still huddled in my furs, I feel... different.

The sadness of Kazumi’s death and Carmen, likely lost in space, still lingers, but without the crippling edge of despair.

The hopeless, deliberating darkness that covered me like an obsidian blanket is now lifted.

Is it wrong to feel this way? Do I owe it to Kazumi and Carmen to suffer?

No . I could’ve acted differently, but they knew the risks when they tried to escape. They made their choices, despite my constant warnings.

Sandra’s silhouette stirs under her mound of furs, likely sound asleep.

I’m not sure how long I’ve slept, but I’m no longer overcome by bone-deep exhaustion.

Still, I can’t be certain on this ship, with its constant hum and dim purple lights casting shadows on the black walls.

I hate it, this darkness—I’ve had enough to last a hundred lifetimes.

Dracoth put us here, unfairly. Typical of the big bore, jumping to conclusions.

Blaming me like I was involved, when all I wanted was to protect them while talking them out of their stupid plans.

Fuck, he was seething with rage though—terrifying, more than usual, which is saying a lot.

If Sandra and I have any hope of getting out of this situation, we’ll have to let him cool down before talking sense into him.

Though it might be impossible. He’s such a hothead!

I’ve never met anybody like him—it’s like the entire football team on steroids smushed into one giant, red alien.

Each of his bulging veins is an angry jock back on Earth.

Yet, I’m confident if I spoke to him now, I could convince him to let us out of the cell.

I feel a strange sense of calmness I’ve never felt before.

It’s like a fog has lifted, leaving me more focused and centered.

Was it that strange dream I had? Or did I fall so deep into depression my mind broke and reset itself? Either way, I hope it lasts.

I stir from my furs, glimpsing the same tiresome sight, already missing my sparse quarters and the small freedom that came with them.

“You... you awake, Alexandra?” Sandra’s voice is calm, almost tentative.

“Yeah...” I answer, my voice uncertain as I grimace, expecting another round of abuse. “Just woke up,” I sigh. “Finally slept through the nightmares.”

“Same here...” Sandra mutters, her voice trailing off. “I was thinking...” she pauses, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry for those awful things I said.”

I shift, sitting with my back against the cell wall. “It’s fine, Sandra. I deserved it,” I say with a weak laugh.

“No, you didn’t.” Sandra shakes her head with eyes focused on her fidgeting hands.

“I was just so angry and upset... Still am. But what I said wasn’t fair.

” Her blue eyes glisten with unshed tears as she meets my gaze.

“It’s not your fault they’re gone, Alexandra.

I’m sorry I blamed you... and called you a shite. ”

We both smile at each other in the low purple light across the cold cell. I feel a surprising relief at her words. The truth is, I regret how I’ve treated Sandra, how I’ve undermined her. It wasn’t fair, and if anyone should hate me, it’s her.

“I’d almost forgotten you called me that, you rude bitch.

” I say with a light-hearted chuckle. “Listen, Sandra.... I’m sorry too, for what I said in the shower.

I was just saying whatever I could to hurt you.

I didn’t mean it... I just wanted time alone with Dracoth.

” I scoff at his name, my hair-brain scheme now seeming ridiculous in retrospect.

“Oh, I know why you did it,” Sandra says with a surprising laugh. “The thing with Conor is—”

“You don’t have to justify anything to me,” I cut her off, holding up a hand. A wave of sadness ripples through me at the thought that she feels the need to explain. This is my fault for planting that doubt in her.

Sandra nods, but I suspect that doubt still gnaws at her as she chews on her nails.

A long silence stretches between us, and my mind spirals with thoughts of how to handle Dracoth, how to get out of this cell, and what to do beyond that.

All I can do locked up in here is think—endless thinking that could drive you mad—probably has.

“It’s weird without the others,” I find myself saying, breaking the rhythmic hum and creaking metal of the ship.

“Kazumi should be huddled in the corner, practicing her English.” I glance around the empty expanse of our cell.

“And Carmen...” I chuckle, shaking my head.

“She’d be pacing back and forth, muttering about how we’re all loca and how she’s going to kill the big pendejo .

” I mimic her accent, trying to capture her fire.

“I know, right?” Sandra laughs softly, but it fades into another silence. “Did Carmen get away on a ship, then?”

“Yeah,” I nod.

Sandra snorts. “She was the crazy one!” She shakes her head. “Bloody hell. Only Carmen would be mad enough to be out there piloting an alien spaceship.”

“Too bad Kazumi got dragged into it,” I say, my tone harsher than I intended. I can’t shake the memory of Carmen pressuring the shy Kazumi to help with her half-baked escape plans. “I should’ve said something... Maybe I could’ve talked Kazumi out of it.”

“That’s rubbish, Alexandra!” Sandra snaps, her voice firm. “Sure, you and Carmen never stopped arguing. All Kazumi and I could do was roll our eyes, watching the pair of you go at it. Not like we didn’t all hear you say escape was impossible a hundred times over.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, though her words do little to soothe me. I know how forceful Carmen could be. Would Kazumi have gone along if she wasn’t afraid of her—or if I stepped in to protect her? That question may haunt me forever.