The misery of he who lives

Ulysses was stunned by the sheer speed at which he moved—one moment he spotted Icaro, and in the blink of an eye, he was already kneeling beside him.

Icaro was barely conscious. His body was battered beyond recognition, his left arm twisted unnaturally, covered in a mix of dirt, dried blood, and fresh wounds. Ulysses couldn't tell if all the blood was his. Not that it mattered. Time was slipping fast—explosions cracked across the land as if the planet itself were screaming in agony.

"Icaro! ICARO! Wake up, dude—brother—please…"

His voice broke as the ship responded to the metallic oval in his hand. Like something alive, it opened itself. The cargo door dropped into a ramp, hissing smoke as if the vessel exhaled.

"There's not much time," the voice echoed inside his head, cold and mechanical.

"Grab him and board. If he has any chance, it's in space—not on this dead rock."

Ulysses grit his teeth. With shocking ease, he lifted Icaro—who was heavier by several pounds. The suit made it effortless. As a geyser of molten rock burst less than a hundred meters behind him, Ulysses climbed the ramp. The ship sealed shut behind them, and strange symbols—alien glyphs—lit up across his vision.

"Open the goddamn helmet, man!"

He screamed, fumbling to tend to Icaro's wounds. To his surprise, two floating drones emerged from the walls—each marked with a red cross.

"Transfer of ownership complete," the ship's speakers announced.

"You now own the personal vessel "Bayv" Preparing for launch."

Ulysses didn't care. He stared in shock as the drones worked on Icaro. Black cables extended, sharp instruments danced. They pierced skin, drilled bone, sealed arteries, transfused blood.

"That's… so strange…"

"Antares was a colony delayed by millennia," the voice replied.

"Humans are more advanced than you were ever allowed to know."

The ship launched. Turbulence shook everything loose inside, but within ten minutes they were out—away from Antares, away from the collapsing gravity well.

Ulysses didn't look back.

He couldn't.

His eyes were on Icaro, who now lay on an emergency stretcher. Another drone worked silently over him. Ulysses sat nearby, numb, waiting—hoping.

Then the voice returned.

"Now that you are the bearer of both me and this ship… will you follow the mission my last host gave you?"

"What if I refuse?" Ulysses whispered.

"I never asked to be an Hexar."

Tears welled up again. That helpless feeling—it had gripped him three years ago when they told him his father died. They hadn't even shown him a body—just handed his mother an empty urn.

This time, not even that.

"As we said," the voice continued,

"You were never meant to be a bearer. You were born with a unique anomaly—your blood can reprogram advanced systems. We've never seen anything like it."

"Yeah. I feel real lucky."

The drones stopped. Three of them floated back to the wall, silent. Ulysses rushed over as Icaro stirred.

"U… Uly…?"

His voice was weak. His body—covered in metallic sheets that moved like liquid skin—shivered.

"It's me, Icaro. What's up, buddy?"

Icaro looked around, confused. His face twisted in pain as tears silently rolled down his cheeks.

"My… my mother… everyone…"

"It's okay," Ulysses said softly, choking back his own tears.

"You're alive. Rest now. Please don't leave me alone, man. Please…"

He's too weak, Ulysses thought.

But maybe—maybe the ship's tech could save him.

"He's going to be okay, right?"

he asked the ship as it moved faster through unknown stars.

"His survival probability is under 10%."

"What?! But the drones stopped! That means he's okay, right?! Otherwise why would they stop?!"

His voice cracked into hysteria. He couldn't lose the last part of Antares—not him.

"The drones are advanced, but this is a personal ship, not a medical vessel. We lack the equipment—and his body lacks the strength. There is nothing more we can do."

Ulysses froze, staring at Icaro's unfocused eyes, his shallow breaths.

"Then—then give him the armor! That'll save him, right?!"

"He is not a bearer. Forcing the armor on him could result in a far more painful death."

"Then how do I save him?! TELL ME!"

He gripped his head, clawing at his scalp in despair. Memories crashed through him like a storm:

"Two kids were born only three months apart, Icaro was the older, and acted like the adult, even if he was far more childish than his younger friend"

"They did everything together, his parents were great friends, they always end up looking at the starts, Icaro always thought of leaving the planet, exploring the stars, being a hero and having a hundred stories to tell"

"Ulysses instead, was afraid of the space, a black cold and sterile place, incompatible with life, the simple thought of being stranded in the infinity darkness made him cry"

Now that same boy—his brother in all but blood—was dying in front of him. His chest barely moved. Ulysses held him close, sobbing into his armor.

"Please… please Icaro. Don't die. Don't leave me here alone… please…"

The ship was silent except for the sound of Ulysses crying. Above them, the ceiling showed an endless field of stars—white diamonds in infinite black.

Icaro, barely conscious, lifted a trembling hand. Gently, he ran it through Ulysses's hair like he used to long ago.

He smiled faintly.

"The stars… sure are beautiful… huh, Ulysses?"