Higher Than The Sun - Part 5

The echoes of five pairs of footsteps reverberated through the vast darkness, each hollow thud swallowed and returned by the cavernous void. Ivan led the group, his heavy frame hunched forward, a firefly lantern clutched in his right hand, its weak glow barely pushing back the encroaching shadows. No one spoke. The air was too thick with tension. Each person gripped their flashlight tightly, sweeping trembling beams across the vast, empty space as if expecting—dreading—something to emerge from the dark.

It was almost identical to the cavern Esther and Sonia had explored after leaving Washington—an underground colossus that seemed to stretch endlessly into the shadows. Concrete pillars, massive and monolithic, lined the cavern in a grid, their sheer size bearing the unimaginable weight of the rocky ceiling above—though no one could see where it ended. The darkness swallowed the height and breadth of the chamber, turning space itself into a suffocating, oppressive void. They had been walking straight from the entrance for nearly five minutes, and still, the end was nowhere in sight.

But unlike the last Soviet outpost Esther had visited, there were no torpedo-shaped warheads lined between the pillars. No rows of dormant, world-ending weapons casting silent shadows. This cavern was empty—eerily so. Only scattered debris and the occasional crumbled stone littered the concrete floor, making the place feel... forgotten.

"Where's the stuff?" Will's voice was barely more than a whisper, as though the darkness itself might listen. "I thought this place was supposed to have, I don't know—world-ending bombs?"

"Do you really want them to be here?" Sonia shot him a glare over her shoulder. "Because, honestly, this feels way safer."

Esther didn't answer. She was too busy thinking the same thing Will had voiced. Ivan had talked about using materials from nuclear warheads—uranium, maybe? She didn't know for sure—but if he planned to experiment with that kind of stuff, one wrong move could have consequences far worse than they could imagine.

Yet, beneath that worry, another question burned stronger.

How did he plan to create a sun?

They kept walking, the cavern stretching on, silent and endless.

Five minutes. Ten. Time became fluid in the suffocating dark, every step sounding hollow and thin. Esther tried counting the number of concrete pillars they passed—over twenty—before losing track. She knew from experience that this place had to have an end. Soviet structures, even secret ones, didn't just stretch into infinity.

But how far was the real question.

She was mid-way through counting again—five pillars this time—when she heard something.

"Wait." She halted, spinning her flashlight around. The others stopped, flashlights bouncing nervously.

"Did you hear that?" she asked.

Will frowned, cocking his head. "Hear what?"

"Shh. Listen." Esther raised a finger to her lips, urging silence.

They stood there, frozen in the dark. Only their breathing filled the heavy air.

Sonia tilted her head, straining to hear, then glanced at Esther with concern. "Are you alright, Esther?

A deep, hollow boom echoed from somewhere far above, reverberating through the cavern like the roar of an ancient giant. Rocks rained down from the unseen ceiling, pelting the floor in a chaotic staccato. Dust exploded into the air, and someone—Will—yelled, throwing his arms over his head as pebbles clattered against him.

"W-what the hell was that!?" he cried, voice cracking.

Another boom. Stronger this time. The ground shook beneath them as something massive slammed down. Esther barely had time to turn before a chunk of stone the size of a cart tumbled from the shadows and smashed into one of the concrete pillars behind them.

Cracks spread like spiderwebs through the base of the pillar.

Esther's breath caught.

The pillar buckled.

"Run!" Sonia screamed.

It didn't take another word. All five of them bolted—feet pounding against the concrete as the cavern came alive with destruction.

The sound of collapsing stone was deafening. The cracked pillar toppled with a thunderous crash, taking part of the ceiling with it. As the massive slab hit the floor, another nearby pillar cracked, then shattered, sending a fresh cascade of debris hurtling down.

It was a domino effect.

The ceiling was collapsing.

Esther ran harder than she'd ever run before. Dust and jagged stone rained down, chunks slamming the ground mere feet behind her. Every breath scorched her lungs with dust, and her legs ached as she pushed forward, but she didn't dare slow down.

She risked a glance over her shoulder.

Rain.

He was at the back, lagging, his lean frame swallowed by the billowing cloud of dust that surged behind them like an avalanche.

She couldn't see him clearly.

"Don't look back!" Rain's voice cut through the chaos, strained but forceful.

Esther snapped her head forward again, her heart pounding harder than the collapsing cavern behind them.

No matter how much she wanted to help him—she couldn't.

Not without dooming herself.

A shout from ahead jolted her back to the present.

"There!" Ivan's voice bellowed.

Before them stood a metal door, smaller in scale but identical in design to the entrance they had passed earlier. Like the first door, it had a control panel on its right side, complete with a lever for opening and closing. However, this one lacked a numeric keypad.

Ivan lunged forward, reaching the control panel first. Practically throwing himself at it, he yanked the lever down with all his might. The heavy metal door began to grind open, inch by inch.

Will darted through the narrowing gap the moment it was wide enough, followed closely by Sonia. Ivan squeezed his stocky frame through as the door creaked halfway open, barely making it through in time.

Esther dashed in next, narrowly avoiding a massive chunk of debris that crashed onto the exact spot she had been standing a heartbeat before. She spun around instantly, eyes searching the chaos beyond the half-open door.

Dust and smoke billowed through the collapsing cavern, turning everything outside into a swirling haze of gray. Esther's heart pounded as she strained to spot Rain, but the thick veil of dust obscured everything.

Giving up was never in her nature.

"Rain!" she screamed, clutching the metal frame of the door that was still grinding open, her voice raw with desperation.

No reply. And even if there had been one, the deafening roar of crumbling stone would have drowned it out. Her flashlight beam cut through the dust, but all she could see was a storm of concrete fragments plummeting from the heavens—a rain of destruction. From this height, even a pebble-sized piece could shatter bone. A misstep or a moment's hesitation out there could mean death.

A massive chunk of concrete slammed down directly in front of her, the impact scattering debris in all directions. One jagged shard struck her forehead, sending a flash of pain through her skull. She gasped, stumbling backward.

"Esther! Get back!" Sonia caught her just before she hit the ground. At the same moment, Ivan hurled himself at the control panel, gripping the lever and pulling it down hard. The door groaned and began to close.

"No!" Esther wrenched free from Sonia's grasp. "Rain's still out there!"

"We can't help him now, Esther!" Sonia grabbed her arm, fighting to hold her back as Esther strained toward the narrowing gap in the door.

Will rushed over, seizing Esther's shoulder. "Esther! If you go out there, you'll die too!" he shouted, his voice cracking with fear.

Esther struggled fiercely, twisting and pulling against the hands that held her back. She barely noticed the warm trickle of blood seeping from the gash on her forehead, slipping past her eye and down her cheek. She didn't care about the twin metal doors grinding shut before her, their edges sliding closer with an unstoppable, merciless force.

Her arm shot forward, thrusting through the narrowing gap between the doors—fully aware that if they sealed, the crushing force would pulverize the limb without hesitation.

"Esther! What the hell are you doing?!" Sonia's voice cracked with panic.

But Esther didn't hear her. She didn't feel the sting of debris pelting her arm and hand, nor did she flinch as jagged fragments scraped her skin. Her entire world had shrunk to the narrowing space between the doors—each second stealing more of it away.

Then, in that final instant—when there was barely a hand's width left—her fingers brushed something.

Not cold stone. Not twisted metal.

Flesh.

Without thinking, Esther latched on, gripping tight as her body surrendered against the force pulling her backward. Will and Sonia, still clinging to her, lost their footing and toppled, all three of them crashing to the ground just as the massive doors slammed shut with a deafening clang.

The sound of falling stones was silenced in an instant—cut off as if the world beyond no longer existed. In the heavy stillness that followed, the only sound was their labored breathing, harsh and ragged in the cavernous space.

Esther scrambled to her knees, heart still racing as she turned to see what—who—she had pulled through the door.

Rain.

His entire body was coated in a thick layer of dust, turning his black hair an ashen gray. His face was streaked with blood from a deep gash running along his cheek, the crimson trail stark against the grime. His clothes were torn, his chest heaving as he coughed violently, dust blooming around him in swirling clouds.

"Thanks," he rasped, his voice hoarse before another rough cough forced its way out, scattering more dust into the air. "You can—" he glanced at her hand, still tightly gripping his, "—probably let go now."

Esther blinked, realizing she was still clutching his wrist in a vice grip.

Will and Sonia exhaled in perfect unison, the tension bleeding out of them as if they'd both been holding their breath since the moment the doors had begun to close.

"I thought you were done for." Sonia gasped, brushing grime from her face.

"That was cutting it way too close," Will let out a dry laugh, wiping dust from his forehead. "Good thing you reached out, Esther. If you hadn't, Rain wouldn't have made it."

"Lucky he's skinny enough to squeeze through," Ivan chimed in with a wide grin, trying to lighten the tension. "If it had been me… I'd be a pancake right now."

Sonia, however, wasn't laughing. She spun to face Esther, brows furrowed in that familiar expression Esther recognized from her father—right before he was about to scold her. "Were you seriously about to run into that rockfall after him? Do you even realize that not only would you have failed to save Rain, but you would've gotten yourself crushed too?"

Esther opened her mouth, but no words came out. Sonia was right. Charging into a collapsing cavern in a desperate attempt to find Rain had been beyond reckless. It was stupid, plain and simple. So why—why hadn't she been able to see that at the time?

She raked through her mind, trying to recall the precise thought that had driven her to throw caution aside. But there was nothing—just a blur of panic, noise, dust. Was it instinct? The sheer, blinding panic of the moment? Or was it something else? Gratitude, maybe, for when Rain had pulled her out of danger before?

"I… I'm sorry," Esther mumbled at last, eyes downcast. "I wasn't thinking clearly. I guess—I panicked."

Sonia's mouth twisted as if she had more to say, but Will quickly stepped between them, throwing his hands up in a peacemaking gesture.

"Come on, let's not fight. We all made it out alive, right?" He glanced over at Rain, who was still sitting on the dusty ground, his clothes a mess of dirt and blood. "You okay, man?"

Rain didn't speak, but he nodded once. A fresh puff of dust exploded from his hair as he moved, making Will cough and wave a hand.

Sonia exhaled sharply, the tension draining from her shoulders. "Fine," she muttered, then thrust a hand out toward Esther, who still sitting on the ground.

Esther hesitated for a beat before taking it. Sonia hauled her up with a strength that belied her slim frame, then brushed a clump of dust from Esther's tangled hair with surprising gentleness. "But seriously," Sonia added, voice softer now, "don't do anything that reckless again, okay?"

There was something in her friend's face—raw concern—that made Esther's chest ache. It mirrored what she'd told Rain before. Don't throw your life away for someone else.

And now, for the first time, she understood how hard that was to follow.

In the moment—when adrenaline screamed through your veins, when the pounding of your heart was so loud it drowned out reason—there was no time to weigh pros and cons. There was only the split-second realization: I can still save them. And by the time that thought had fully formed, her body was already in motion.

Maybe, she thought, protecting someone didn't always need a reason.

"I won't do anything reckless again," Esther promised with a soft smile. "But only if you promise to come back and have lunch with me, like we used to."

"Of course I will!" Sonia shot back, though her bravado faltered as she dropped her gaze to the floor. "I'm… I'm sorry I haven't been around much lately."

"Alright, alright, ladies, let's save the heartfelt moments for later," Will cut in, waving his hands to snap them back to reality. "Can we talk about what the hell just happened?"

Sonia rolled her eyes. "Isn't it obvious? A rockslide. Or were you too busy screaming to notice?"

Will let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, I noticed the giant chunks of stone falling from the ceiling, thanks. I meant why did it happen?"

"I heard something," Esther interjected. "A sound, from above… like something heavy hitting the cavern ceiling."

She caught Will glancing over at Rain, who met his eyes with a grim nod.

"What is it?" Esther asked, her voice tight.

"Explosions," Rain answered flatly. "Shells. Or maybe missiles."

A heavy silence followed, the weight of the word missiles sinking deep into their chests.

"War," Sonia whispered, her throat dry. "Kyushu's under attack."

"Goddammit," Will snapped, running a hand through his hair. "I told you we shouldn't have left the ship."

"Will the ship still be waiting for us?" Esther's voice was soft, but it cut through the tension like a blade as she turned to Rain.

But before he could answer, Sonia stepped in. "Does it even matter? We can't go back the way we came." She swept her arm toward the now-blocked tunnel behind them. "Unless there's another exit we haven't found, we're stuck here."

Esther kept her eyes on Rain. His deep violet gaze flicked away.

Holland's not waiting for us. The realization struck hard. Sonia had probably figured it out too—hence her attempt to steer the conversation away. And she was right. Whether the Washington was still out there or not was irrelevant. They needed a way out of the cavern—now.

The low hum of machinery broke the silence, reverberating through the metal walls. Then, with a flicker, the overhead lights blazed to life, flooding the space with blinding white. Esther squinted against the sudden brightness, blinking rapidly as startled cries echoed around her.

"Whoa!?"

"What the hell!?"

"Will, that's my foot, you idiot!"

"Sorry! Sorry! I think I found the backup power controls!"

As Esther's vision adjusted, she spotted Ivan by a wall-mounted control panel, his large hands gripping a rusted lever. Cables snaked out from the panel, connecting to a network of circuits embedded into the walls.

The floor beneath her boots was a dull, gunmetal gray, the once-polished surface now caked in soot and grime. Her footsteps echoed hollowly against the metal, the cavern's cold vastness amplified by the smooth, sterile walls and ceiling—both seamlessly welded together. The harsh glare from the overhead lights bounced off the reflective surfaces, making the whole room feel clinical and vast, yet suffocating.

"What is this place?" Will asked, his voice a cautious whisper.

Ivan's face lit up like a kid in a candy store. "It's clearly an auxiliary power station. Draws energy from underground reservoirs, I'd wager." He gestured to a set of large, rectangular metal boxes stacked neatly along the far wall. "Those are the batteries—storage units. And over there? Backup generators."

"Hey! I found a staircase!" Sonia's voice echoed from the far corner of the room. "There might be another way out!"

Before Esther could even turn her head, Sonia's shrill scream pierced the air.

Rain was already moving—his reflexes a split second faster—as Esther sprinted after him, heart hammering in her chest. They dashed toward the partially ajar door leading to the stairwell, Esther catching a glimpse of Sonia's silhouette through the crack.

"Sonia! What's wrong?!" Esther called out, bursting through the door.

Sonia stood frozen at the top of the landing, her eyes wide with horror, fixed on something above. Esther's gaze followed—and a wave of nausea clenched her stomach.

The upper landing was littered with corpses. Dozens of them, twisted together in grotesque heaps. Human corpses.

"Oh, hell no—" Will barreled in behind them, took one look, and immediately turned away, retching violently in the corner.

Esther clamped a hand over her mouth, gagging—but something felt off. There was no foul stench of decay, no sickly-sweet rot that should have filled the air. Squinting through the gloom, she noticed the corpses' skin: gray, stretched thin over their bones, dry and brittle.

"Mummified," Esther murmured, a strange sense of awe creeping into her voice.

"What?" Sonia spun around, her face pale.

"They're preserved—like ancient Egyptian mummies," Esther explained, taking a cautious step forward. "These people didn't die recently. Could've been dead for decades—maybe even centuries."

Sonia's eyes widened. "You're saying they've been like this for hundreds of years?"

Esther shrugged, the scholar in her awakening despite the grim scene. "In the old world, they found mummies over a thousand years old. Some of them still had skin and hair intact."

Sonia squinted at her, skepticism plain on her face. "You're making that up."

"I'm not! I swear!" Esther defended herself.

Sonia folded her arms. "Dead bodies turn to bone. That's how it works. You're telling me they found a way to preserve everything?"

"Ancient Egyptians had this process—they'd remove internal organs, drain the fluids, and use salts to dry out the body. It was complicated, but effective."

"Yeah, that's all super interesting, but is now really the time?" Will barked as he staggered back into the stairwell, wiping his mouth. "Can we talk about whether you guys plan to, I don't know, walk through the corpse pile or what?"

Before anyone could answer, Ivan silently stepped forward. The big man lumbered up the first few steps, his heavy boots thudding against the metal, until he reached the edge of the grotesque mound. Without a word, he crouched, hooked his thick arms under the nearest mummified body, and heaved it aside with a grunt.

Esther's jaw dropped. "Ivan! What are you doing!?"

He didn't flinch, his face tight with resolve. "There's only one way forward," he gritted out, trying to take shallow breaths. "I brought you here. Clearing the way is my responsibility."

With that, he hauled another body aside, its brittle limbs snapping like dry twigs as he laid it gently next to the first.

One by one, the others followed behind him up the stairs, each step creaking under their weight. Esther forced herself to focus ahead, deliberately avoiding the skeletal fingers and hollow-eyed skulls scattered in her periphery. Her stomach churned as she counted the bodies Ivan cleared—fifteen, then twenty—until finally, at the top of the landing, a massive pressure-sealed door loomed before them.

Esther's heart twisted as she saw the last of the corpses. They were sprawled across the final steps, clawed fingers embedded deep into the metal door as if they'd died desperately trying to open it.

"'Control Room,'" Sonia read aloud, tracing the faded Soviet lettering etched into the wall beside the door.

As Esther approached the door, she noticed it was slightly ajar. With a cautious push, the heavy metal door creaked open, the sharp screech of steel-on-steel reverberating through the stairwell. The skeletal fingers and brittle wrists of the mummified corpses—still embedded deep into the door—snapped with a dry, splintering crack, like dead branches giving way under pressure.

The control room beyond was dim, shadows clawing at the edges of the space, the darkness broken only by the intermittent flicker of a fractured overhead light. The cracked bulb sparked weakly, the failing filaments inside hissing and popping, casting brief, ghostly flashes across the room.

At the center of the chamber sat a long, dust-covered planning table. Spread across its surface was a large, yellowed map of the Kyushu archipelago, scarred with meticulous markings—routes, fortifications, faded inked symbols that hinted at a forgotten war.

Esther swept her flashlight across the room—and froze.

Two shapes, silhouettes against the darkness, sat at opposite ends of the table. Her heartbeat quickened, echoing in her ears as she instinctively stepped back—but then the light revealed the truth.

Both figures were slumped over, faces buried into the surface of the table, their right hands still clutching old revolvers pressed against their temple. Dust-caked shell casings gleamed in the faint light, lying motionless on the floor beside them.

"They… they killed themselves," Esther whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Creepy as hell," Sonia muttered, visibly unsettled.

Ivan brushed past them, his heavy steps reverberating through the metal floor as he made his way toward a wall lined with control panels. Blinking lights flickered weakly across the half-height consoles, their glow an eerie pulse in the stillness.

The others followed, curiosity and dread mingling in equal parts. Esther's gaze dropped to another pair of bodies slumped across the control panel, their stiff, mummified hands gripping two keys, still inserted into twin keyholes.

She leaned closer. A dual-key activation system? She'd read about protocols like this—fail-safes for catastrophic events, designed to prevent a single person from triggering devastating consequences.

At the center of the control panel loomed a large red button, its protective glass cover already flipped open. A crimson warning light blinked overhead, its rhythm slow and ominous.

"I don't think we should touch—"

But before Esther could finish her sentence, Ivan slammed his palm down onto the button.

The effect was immediate. The wall directly in front of the control panel shuddered before retracting with a deep metallic groan. A series of mechanical locks disengaged one after another, their heavy clanks echoing like the footsteps of a titan.

The steel panel slid away, revealing a massive viewing window—its reinforced glass eerily familiar, identical to the blast-proof windows aboard the Washington. Beyond the thick pane of glass, a cavernous, circular chamber stretched out before them, impossibly vast.

Floodlights embedded around the perimeter flickered to life, beams of stark white light slicing upward, illuminating the enormous interior. The walls, curved and smooth, were sheathed in matte black metal, the surface gleaming faintly under the industrial glow. At first, the center of the chamber seemed empty—until the floor itself began to shift.

A deep hiss filled the room as massive metal plates at the base of the chamber slowly parted. Clouds of pressurized steam vented upward through the widening fissures, curling like ghostly tendrils against the dark walls.

Esther instinctively stepped forward, her breath fogging the glass as she strained to see.

From beneath the opening floor, something was rising. Something colossal.

Amidst the swirling mist of steam, the colossal object gradually rising into view resembled a torpedo or the head of a missile—only far larger, its immense size dwarfing anything Esther had expected. The sleek, metallic surface glinted under the harsh floodlights as the heavy platform supporting it came to a grinding halt.

A harsh, mechanical voice crackled through the room's ancient speakers, its tone clipped and cold, speaking in Russian. The message repeated on a loop, the same phrase again and again.

"'Please input coordinates,'" Sonia translated, her voice a whisper.

The red warning light on the central console before Esther flickered out, only to reappear on a panel to her right. She glanced over to find three blinking slots awaiting numerical input.

"Coordinates? It's asking for target coordinates," Esther muttered.

Ivan moved with sudden purpose, leaning over the dust-laden map spread across the planning table. His finger traced lines across the weathered surface before he turned toward the control panel, his heavy boots echoing in the metal chamber.

Without hesitation, he began keying in a series of numbers.

"Wait—stop!" Esther shouted, panic tightening her throat. "You're actually going to fire that thing?!"

Ivan's hand hovered briefly over the lever—then, with a sharp motion, he yanked it down. "This is why we're here, isn't it?"

Esther felt her heart race. "I thought you needed parts of the missile for your experiment—not to launch the damn thing! We're supposed to be here to witness the creation of a sun—not to fire a warhead!"

The red light on the panel extinguished, only for the speaker to crackle once more. A new phrase—brief, forceful—barked through the room.

Beneath their feet, the metal floor vibrated as unseen machinery rumbled to life. Above, the massive ceiling of the spherical chamber began to split apart, the sections sliding away with an agonizing groan. A fresh cloud of steam hissed upward, swirling around the towering missile as the vault widened, revealing the infinite black beyond.

But something else was there—floating in the dark.

Tiny flecks drifted down, catching in the bright floodlights, swirling gently through the open air.

"Snow…" Will's voice was hollow with disbelief.

"Impossible…" Sonia breathed, her wide eyes reflecting the shimmering flakes.

Before Esther could even process the surreal sight, the red light on the console reignited, flashing insistently. Ivan turned sharply, locking eyes with her—just for a second—before lunging toward the button.

Esther didn't think. She grabbed the old revolver resting next to a skeletal hand on the table and swung it up, both hands wrapped around the cold metal as she aimed it straight at Ivan.

"Stop!" Her voice cracked with the force of the command, though her hands trembled violently.

Ivan froze mid-step, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"Esther!?" Will and Sonia both shouted in unison. "What the hell are you doing!?"

"He's about to launch the missile!" Esther snapped, keeping the gun leveled at the stunned astronomer.

Ivan lifted his hands slowly, palms out. "I'm not launching it to destroy anything, Esther. I'm trying to create a sun."

"Then explain it," Esther shot back, her finger tightening on the trigger. "Right now. How exactly do you plan to recreate the sun?"

Ivan exhaled, his shoulders sagging as though the weight of decades had finally caught up to him. "Beneath Kyushu runs a series of tectonic fractures—natural points of immense pressure, similar to the core of a star. I intend to use this missile to breach that connection, to trigger a controlled nuclear fusion reaction. If it works, the energy released will take the form of light—a new sun."

"Where exactly is this connection point to the Earth's core?"

"On the other side of Kyushu Island. That side is a steep mountain range, completely uninhabited. I've already checked."

Esther tried to process the plausibility of Ivan's theory.

"Esther, isn't this what we came here to do?" Sonia said.

Esther cast a glance out the observation window, her breath catching as she noticed the strange particles drifting through the air, falling in thick, black flurries. What had first appeared as snow was now blanketing the ground in dark, dusty layers—unnatural and heavy.

Her right hand tightened around the grip of the revolver, the muzzle still aimed at Ivan, while her left hand shot out, pointing toward the grim spectacle beyond the glass.

"That's not snow!" she shouted, voice echoing in the metal chamber. "It's ash—volcanic ash! There's a volcano nearby, and it's venting smoke. That's what we're seeing—ash clouds condensing and falling. It explains why the Saipan settlements have those steep, triangular rooftops—to stop the ash from piling up and crushing them!"

"Volcano? Ash?" Will echoed, turning wide-eyed toward Sonia. Their shared confusion was palpable.

Esther blinked in disbelief. "You seriously don't know what a volcano is? Didn't they teach you any of this in school?"

Her words snapped out before she could stop them, laced with frustration. Sonia shot her a sharp look but responded with surprising calm. "They don't teach that in schools, Esther. Put the gun down and explain it to us—please."

Esther hesitated, glancing between Sonia and Ivan. The astronomer stood two steps from the red launch button, the weight of his purpose heavy in the air between them. If he made a move, she could stop him—but he merely raised his hands in surrender, palms open.

Esther looked at the control panel. The thought of shooting it to destroy the missile launching mechanism flashed through her mind, but she ultimately decided against it. If pressing this button would launch the missile, then destroying the control panel now might also accidentally trigger the launch.

Lowering the revolver slightly, but not enough to lose her aim, Esther sucked in a shaky breath. "A volcano," she began, "is a mountain formed by magma pushing through the Earth's crust. It's essentially a massive time bomb. When it erupts, it can unleash more destruction than any nuclear weapon. We're talking about pyroclastic flows, acid rain, and an ash cloud that could block out the sky. If you fire that missile, Ivan, you could trigger a catastrophic eruption that could wipe out this entire island—maybe more."

Ivan chuckled, deep and dry, his shoulders shaking. "Where did you even read something like that?"

"From dozens of geology textbooks in my father's library," she shot back.

"Geology is a science for fools," Ivan sneered, his voice dripping with disdain.

Esther's jaw dropped, stunned by the outright dismissal. "You're one to talk! Aren't you the one fighting for a science that everyone else has labeled obsolete? You of all people should understand."

"There's a difference," Ivan countered, his eyes gleaming with conviction. "Geology relies on assumptions about this world, assumptions based on a planet that may not even be ours. How do you know this is still the same Earth your textbooks described?"

Sonia cut in, her brow furrowed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Ivan gestured toward the ceiling, as though pointing far beyond the rock and steel surrounding them. "People want to believe we're still on Earth—that after the surface wars, our ancestors simply moved underground. It's a comforting lie. The truth is, our ancestors left Earth long ago. They boarded starships and came here—to another planet. That's why your textbooks can't be trusted."

Esther felt her grip on the revolver tighten again, the metal cold and heavy. "Even if that were true, a volcano is still a volcano. Basic geological principles wouldn't just change."

Ivan's eyes flickered to the red button again. "And that's exactly why we need this experiment—to find out for sure."

Before she could respond, the ground shuddered beneath their feet, a deep, guttural rumble rising from the depths below. Dust rained down from the ceiling as the lights flickered, casting the control room into a stuttering dance of shadows and sparks.

Esther staggered but caught herself on the edge of the console, whipping the revolver back up as Ivan stumbled forward, closer to the button.

"Don't!" she screamed. "One more step and I swear I'll shoot!"

The words rang out through the steel chamber, hanging heavy in the electrified air. Ivan's breath heaved in his chest, but he froze—his outstretched hand mere inches from the control.

"We don't have much time left. Kyushu is under attack, and this… this might be my last chance," Ivan spoke with a calmness that felt violently at odds with the chaos rumbling all around them. Explosions echoed in the distance, the earth trembled beneath their feet, yet his voice was steady—cold, even. "Let me try."

He took a step forward.

The cold muzzle of Esther's revolver pressed hard against his chest. Her heart raced, but she forced her hands not to shake. "I said stop!"

But she stepped back—just a half step, maybe less—but it was enough. Now, Ivan stood directly before the control panel, the glowing red button within easy reach.

He didn't look at her.

His eyes fixated on the blinking red light above the button, the soft glow reflecting off the lenses of his cracked glasses. "I thought you'd understand what science really means," he murmured, his voice dipping into something almost mournful. "But you're just like the rest of them—those academics too scared to lift their heads from dusty books. You cling to records from centuries ago, too afraid to step outside the lines and test something, prove something."

His hand hovered inches above the button. Esther's grip on the gun tightened.

"You know why?" Ivan continued, now bitter, almost venomous. "Because you don't want to be responsible. You don't want to live with the consequences if it all goes wrong—if people die. But you also don't want to stop me, not really. Because that would make you a murderer." He let out a dry, hollow laugh. "You're like everyone else in this rotten world. You want change. You dream of something better—but you'll never take the steps to make it happen. Because that would mean carrying the weight of what comes after."

The words hit her harder than the tremors that shook the ground.

It wasn't just what he'd said about the old world—about how this might not even be the same Earth from the textbooks she clung to. It wasn't even the looming threat of the missile, or the weight of the revolver in her hands.

It was the way his words echoed the darkest, most secret doubts in her own mind.

She thought of Rain—how she'd scolded him for risking his life to protect her. But wasn't that just because she couldn't bear the responsibility of his death?

She thought of herself—the girl who claimed she wanted to change the world, but had never once taken the first real step to do it.

She thought she was different. Smarter. Braver. More determined than the classmates who only dreamed of wealth and safety. But was she really?

Or was she just another frightened kid, grasping at borrowed knowledge, too paralyzed by fear of failure to ever act?

For a split second, that thought swallowed her whole. Doubt clawed its way up her throat. Her arms trembled. Her mind spiraled.

And in that moment, anger surged forward.

It burned hotter than the fear, brighter than the doubt. It roared in her chest and silenced the quake in her hands.

Ivan's hand darted toward the button.

Esther screamed.

And then, everything went dark.

…

Esther jolted awake, her breath ragged and shallow, each gasp clawing at her throat. Her knees dug into the cold metal floor, the sharp sting of pain barely noticeable against the rush of adrenaline thundering through her veins. The first thing she saw was blood—thick, crimson drops splattered on the gleaming metal before her.

Whose blood?

Another droplet slid from her face, landing with a soft plop. It was her own.

She lifted a trembling hand to her face, fingers coming away slick with blood. And that blood was reflecting the amber light.

"Esther, stop!!" Sonia's voice cracked through the ringing in her ears, a sharp anchor dragging her back to the moment.

Esther's gaze snapped around.

The reinforced glass that had once separated the control room from the missile chamber was gone—shattered into jagged shards now scattered like stardust across the control panels and cold floor. Tiny slivers reflected the light like fragments of a broken galaxy, sparkling in the gloom. Through the ruined window, ash—not snow—spiraled inward, soft and black, swirling lazily in the air before settling in drifts on the metal grating.

And there, slumped over the control panel, was Ivan.

Blood streamed from his ears, twin rivers of deep red tracing down his jawline, pooling beneath him. His hand, limp and heavy, rested mere inches from the blinking red launch button—so close, yet now still. The warning light above it continued its steady pulse, as if mocking the silence that followed.

Sonia stood behind Ivan's lifeless body, revolver in hand, its barrel trained on Esther. Her face was pale, drawn tight with shock. Beside her, Will lay curled on the floor, unmoving. Esther couldn't tell if he was breathing.

"He didn't press it, did he?" Esther asked, surprised at how calm—eerily calm—her voice sounded. No tremor, no fear. Just hollow certainty.

Sonia's expression contorted with disbelief. "That's your first question? After what you just did?" Her voice cracked. "You killed him, Esther! Do you even realize that?"

A gust of ash swirled through the broken glass, landing cold against Esther's cheek. She wiped at it, smearing the dark powder with a trail of blood, her vision briefly clouded by a strange amber glow from the corner of her eye. Her left eye—she could feel the warm trickle of blood still seeping from it.

"I just saved this island," Esther replied flatly, her words cold, heavy. She tried not to focus on the growing stickiness on her face, nor the unsettling light that lingered in her peripheral vision.

Sonia looked at her like she was staring at a stranger. "You killed him based on a theory you read in a book?!" she snapped.

Esther's chest tightened. "If I'd let him test his theory, it would've been too late. The volcano would've erupted. Hundreds of magma bombs—stones the size of buildings—would have rained down on the island, wiping out entire cities. And if anyone survived that, the lava would come next, flooding across the land, incinerating everything in its path. Do you even know what lava is? It's molten rock—liquid stone—burning at over a thousand degrees Celsius. It doesn't just burn you; it devours you. And if somehow anyone still survived after that, the ash would choke the air for months and cover the entire island."

She didn't realize she was screaming until her voice broke, throat raw with the force of it. "Don't you understand what I just did? I just saved all of us!"

Beyond the broken glass, the sky roiled with ash clouds. Each explosion sent tremors through the facility, the lights above them flickering violently. Black snow—ash—danced on the currents of air like a thousand tiny insects, some drifting through the shattered window to spiral lazily into the control room.

Sonia's voice cut through the heavy air. "And you're sure? Absolutely sure that would've happened?"

The question hung there, thick and suffocating.

Esther's grip on the revolver tightened. Her bloodied eye ached, her vision split between fractured light and creeping shadows. She watched as a clump of ash twisted in the air, slowly descending—delicate and soft—before landing on Sonia's cheek.

Sonia didn't brush it away.

It could've been real snow, Esther thought numbly.

"I'm sure," Esther lied. "Have I ever lied to you about something this important?"

Sonia went silent for a long, drawn-out moment—so long that Esther almost believed she'd won her over.

But then Sonia's voice broke, trembling with emotion. "You did lie. You lied to me the very first time we met." Her face crumpled as tears spilled down her cheeks, the light from the shattered windows catching on them, making them glisten like falling stars. "At the Soviet base, you told me I wasn't a spy. You told me I only heard Moonlight Sonata on that frequency because you and your dad were running radio tests. And I believed you. I started questioning everything—my mission, my purpose. I thought my family had been lying to me. Until I discovered that the same frequency was the key to opening a giant steel door leading to Soviet nuclear arsenal."

"I was trying to save you!" Esther snapped.

"I didn't ask you to!" Sonia's voice cracked, raw and furious. "I didn't ask you to lie to me, to rewrite my past, to burn down everything I'd ever believed in! You took that from me, Esther. You took everything."

An explosion rocked the ground beneath them, stronger this time, nearly knocking Esther off balance. In the distance, the sharp staccato of machine-gun fire echoed through the chaos, mingled with the shouts of men locked in battle.

"And now you're lying again," Sonia whispered through gritted teeth, her chest heaving. "You're not sure. You don't know if there's a volcano. You don't even know if this is ash or snow. I saw it, Esther. I saw the doubt in your eyes when Ivan mentioned the planet shift theory. You don't know if anything you believe is actually true."

Esther's throat tightened. She said nothing.

Sonia took a step forward.

"What are you doing?" Esther hissed, instinctively raising the gun again.

Sonia didn't stop. Another step—snow-black ash puffed beneath her boots. Her revolver stayed steady, aimed directly at Esther. "I'm going to press that button."

"The hell you are!"

Sonia stepped in so close the barrels of their guns nearly touched, the cold metal vibrating between them. Ash swirled thick around their faces, suspended in the fractured beams of light slicing through the broken glass.

"Esther," Sonia said softly, "if we do this, we could give the world its light back."

"And if I'm right, we'll kill everyone on this island."

"They're already dying!" Sonia shot back. "What difference does it make?"

"The difference," Esther whispered, "is that it won't be our hands pulling the trigger."

Sonia let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Oh, come on. Like we haven't killed people already? What about the islanders? The Egyptian soldiers who tried to take the Washington? Don't act like we haven't all got blood on our hands."

Egyptian soldiers trying to take the ship? If that's what Sonia was referring to, it must have happened while Esther was unconscious—after her encounter with the whale. There was nothing, not even a flicker of memory tied to those words in her mind.

That was when she saw it. A missile, streaking through the gaping hole in the ceiling, its tail leaving behind a twisting trail of smoke. It smashed into the inner wall of the missile chamber with a deafening blast. The impact hurled both Esther and Sonia across the floor like rag dolls.

Esther's head cracked against the sharp edge of the control panel. Pain lanced through her skull, but she bit it back, forcing herself upright.

Her vision blurred, warping under the harsh glow of the flames licking the walls. Ash—black, swirling—tumbled through the broken air, spun into a frenzied dance by the gusts of chaotic wind. Through it, Esther saw Sonia, already on her feet, sprinting toward the control panel.

No.

Esther had never been able to whistle. She'd tried, once, after an old sailor on the Washington dock had tried to teach her. But all she'd managed was a pathetic rush of breath—no melody, no tune.

But now… now she was whistling.

A low, mournful sound, fragile and wavering, curling upward before dipping low again—a haunting lullaby that didn't even feel like it belonged to her.

Sonia froze mid-stride. Her body locked as if the very air had solidified around her.

"Esther… what are you doing?" Sonia gritted her teeth, struggling to force the words out. Her jaw twitched violently, muscles rigid as though she was fighting invisible chains. "Stop…"

Esther didn't. She couldn't. The melody kept spilling from her lips, controlled and certain.

"Don't let it control you… Esther—"

It's not. Her mind was clear, laser-sharp. Every decision, every action—it was all hers. And this… this was the right thing to do.

Sonia's fingers twitched toward the panel, her whole body trembling with the strain. "We're going to die in here! Don't you want to change this world? Don't you want to know what happens if we push that button? To see if we can really create a sun?"

No. Not if it meant people would die.

Even if it meant changing the world? a small voice inside her asked, soft and curious.

Even then.

Because if she let people die for the sake of progress, she'd be no better than the murderers and tyrants who had left this world in ruin.

And she wasn't going to let Sonia become one of them either.

The redhead's face contorted with pain. Her teeth clenched so hard that a thick vein stood out against her pale throat as she tried to force her trembling leg forward.

Esther didn't want to kill Sonia. She didn't even want to hurt her. She just needed Sonia to understand—she wouldn't let anyone press that button. Sun or no sun.

So, Esther shifted the tune lower, softer, more forceful.

Sonia's body convulsed, but she couldn't take another step.

Ash swirled like dying fireflies between them, and all Esther could hear was the echo of her own hollow song, carrying her conviction into the void.

A guttural scream tore from deep within Sonia's throat as her body locked in place, unable to move. Her jaw trembled with the effort to open, to speak, but she was trapped within the invisible force that Esther now controlled.

Please, understand— Esther thought bitterly, the sharp whistle still spiraling from her lips. I don't want to do this!

Sonia growled low, her boot twisting against the slick metal floor as she stubbornly forced her body forward, inch by inch, fighting the unseen pressure that kept her still.

Stop! Why are you pushing this so far? Do you really want to be a killer?

Esther could hear Sonia's ragged breaths now—wet, labored gasps, like someone choking on water. Her shoulders trembled, blood trickling from her nose and ears, thick droplets splattering onto the floor. Every muscle in Sonia's body strained violently against the force, spasming as she dragged one trembling foot ahead.

I'm trying to protect everyone, damn it!

But Sonia wouldn't stop. She wouldn't give up. Even as her body convulsed, even as the blood poured, she clawed her way toward the red button.

Esther clenched her teeth. Her patience snapped.

Fine. If you want to be the one to do this—if you want blood on your hands—

Then you're a murderer.

But just as she hardened her resolve to deliver the killing blow, a calm voice broke through the chaos, drifting in from her right.

"I've been thinking about it for a while," the voice murmured.

Esther's head snapped to the side. And it was Rain who stood beside her.

His dark hair, dusted with ash, barely moved in the cold draft sweeping through the broken chamber. His katana, she noticed absently, was still sheathed on his back. He wasn't even looking at her—his eyes were fixed on the swirling black ash beyond the shattered windows, watching it spiral in the winds above the missile silo.

Esther was so stunned that she let the whistle die entirely. With it, Sonia collapsed. Her body crumpled onto the metal floor, wracked with harsh, choking coughs.

"What… what are you talking about?" she managed, blinking at Rain.

He still didn't look at her. "That question you asked me a long time ago—why I save your life."

Esther narrowed her eyes. "This isn't the time—"

"At first, I thought it didn't need an answer," Rain continued, voice even, calm. "I thought… helping someone is just what you do. It's simple. It doesn't need a reason. It doesn't hurt anyone."

He finally turned his head then, dark eyes meeting hers.

"But I understand now. I understand why you got so angry at me that day. Why you didn't want me to put my life at risk for you."

Esther's throat tightened. Her grip on the pistol slackened just slightly.

"Because right now," Rain said, his voice quieter, "I don't want you to risk your life for them."

She glanced back at Sonia, still curled up and coughing, and then to Ivan's lifeless form slumped over the control panel. Finally, her gaze flicked to the missile—still idle, steam curling around it like ghostly fingers.

"If I don't, people will die," she whispered.

Rain nodded. "I know."

"Then how can you just—just stand there and let it happen!?"

"Because it means you survive."

His words hit her harder than she expected.

"You're selfish," Esther spat.

Rain smiled faintly. "Then Holland's selfish too, for only caring about his crew. Your father was selfish when he told you not to board this ship but didn't stop anyone else. And you? You're selfish for choosing to protect this island without thinking about the people standing next to you."

Her hands trembled.

"We're all selfish, Esther," Rain said gently. "I didn't help you because I'm some noble hero. Yeah, Holland told me to protect you. But that's not why I stayed. I helped you because I could. I can save you. But we can't save everyone."

For a long beat, the room was silent except for the distant echoes of explosions aboveground.

"…So it was Holland's orders," Esther muttered, bitterness curling in her chest.

"At first, I thought so too," Rain admitted easily, his voice as calm as if they weren't standing on the edge of catastrophe. "But now… I finally know the true answer to your question."

Esther's brow furrowed. "What question?"

Rain turned toward her, and for the first time, their eyes locked.

"You once asked me why I'd risk my life for you," he said, his voice dropping into something softer, heavier, "even though we barely knew each other."

The faint glow of the control room caught in his dark irises—normally so deep a violet they bordered on black—but now, under the flickering light, she could finally see the truth of their color: a bright, luminous amethyst, shining with something raw, something real.

"I save your life because—" he whispered, "I wanted to know you better."

It hit her like a physical blow—her mind struggled to process the words, the weight behind them—and in that fractured heartbeat of hesitation, two things happened at once.

The first: Ivan, bloodied but not yet broken, twitched his fingers forward with agonizing slowness, pushing his hand toward the glowing red button.

The second: a mortar shell crashed through the ceiling.

It tore through steel and concrete like wet paper, the impact sending a shockwave that rocked the entire chamber. The blast struck outside the control room, but the force shattered what remained of the glass, flinging Esther backward.

Her vision blurred. The roaring in her ears drowned out even her own thoughts. But before the darkness swallowed her whole, she saw it—just for a moment.

A lake. A vast, still expanse of soft lavender water, rippling under the tender light of a sun she didn't recognize.

Then the world went black.