False Gods - Prologue

They say that you can't hear anything in space but I can hear the space station falling apart just fine.

Everything I am. Everything I've ever been falling apart right along with it.

Here sat in my fragile little bubble of steel and fiberglass, I stare past the window and into the darkness beyond, losing myself in the infinite sea of stars. Staring into the past as I consider my future. Dead as a doornail and scattered across the rocks of time.

The consoles dance their electric tango, their alerts whining and lights flashing as they barter with the dying wails of Haven for my attention.

There's a lotta' things that have brought me to this moment. Some you might consider reckless. Others, stupid. You might go so far as to say that I have a death wish. You're right. I do. 

But no matter what your opinion, all of it happened for a reason. My only regret? That I didn't do it sooner.

People will do questionable things when faced with death. And when that moment comes, when time slows down and you're cast adrift in the shitty sea of fate, you decide how far you're willing to go to stop it, how much of yourself you're willing to lose in order to take that next breath or take that next step.

Haven bows beneath my wing and its walls crumble at my blood stained hands. I've bled enough for them. And now they will bleed with me.

We free-fall through the void at what feels like the speed of light. The G-force bears down on me like the ocean, holding me down and suffocating me in my own flesh and blood. 

Muscles scream. Bones creak. I grit my teeth and slam my eyes shut as they bulge from the pressure, the thin skin barely keeping them inside my skull.

The orange flare consumes the view port and peels across the underside of my eyelids. The comforting safety of their darkness is quickly swallowed by the fire. The glow slowly leaks into the cabin and I embrace the furnace.

The consoles spark and die. The heat fries the internal circuits, warping the relays until the casing crumples and explodes. The metal frame of the pilot chair sears into my skin. My arms weld to the armrests. The smell of my own burnt flesh invades my nostrils. Sweat beads and evaporates within seconds of it appearing.

But it could be worse.

The shining black is singing her siren song, scattering the stars across the black like moon dust on the wind as we spiral down. The fire is licking at my fingers and the steel monster behind me roars as it kicks and screams like a child waking from the womb.

But I will roar louder.

My stomach drops as gravity joins us, come to gamble with my life. I allow myself to breathe. The flames bursting across the cockpit flicker just enough for me to glimpse the world beneath.

The blue-green oceans shift and bulge, sculpted by the behemoths that dwell beneath the surface. Snow-capped mountains, carved from the stricken land with jagged knives, rise up, only to be quickly swallowed by the mottled clouds that surge across the sky like the Horsemen of War.

A not so perfect world framed by a not so perfect ring of blood red fire.

It's funny.Lori always said that our love would set the stars on fire.

But I think I'll start with the world first.