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"Burt, where are you?"
Sven stumbled down the hall, rubbing his elbow. They had collided with something and it had knocked him off his feet.
Damn, why was the cockpit so far from the escape pod? He really didn't want to use any of the normal ones because he wanted to leave them for his clanmates.
There should be enough for all of them, even a couple extra in case some of them were destroyed.
"Burt? Burt, please answer!"
There was crackling from the other side, and he heard a muffled groan.
"I-I'm here, don't worry, don't worry."
He felt relief for a moment. He wasn't dead, he wasn't dead, maybe injured but he wasn't—he wasn't dead.
"Are you injured? Do you want me to go to you?"
"No, no. Just get to an escape pod."
"Are you—"
"Yes, I'm sure. Now go, quickly."
Sven suppressed the need to go to Burt's office, listening to his second in command's orders.
"...Okay. You do the same then."
"Yeah."
He picked up speed, sprinting through the halls as wreckage fell all around him.
Then he saw him.
Leprechaun, lying face down on the ground.
No.
He skidded to a stop, dropping down on his knees next to him and flipping him over to feel for a pulse.
His eyes were wide open and clouded over, but Sven didn't register that.
Nothing.
He tried to listen for a heartbeat.
There was none.
How many more of his clanmates were going to die? How many people was he going to lose?
He steadied himself, closing Leprechaun's eyes, cradling his body for a bit. How he wished he could give him a proper funeral, but he could only mutter a quick prayer and move on.
Stumbling over to the escape pods, he was honestly surprised that the luxury pod was still there.
What were they waiting for?
The door slid open and someone grabbed him by his collar and yanked him in.
"There you are. Now we can go."
Oh, they were waiting for him. That would probably have been a bad move if he'd actually died. Then they'd be waiting for a dead person.
With a grateful smile, he settled down on his seat with a sigh.
"Hey, I'm in an escape pod, did you get into one too?"
"…"
"Burt?"
The luxury pod ejected, and he leaned forward to gaze out of its window at the orbital station. He could see several escape pods along with them, could Burt be in one of them?
"Burt? Hey, are you there?"
He wouldn't—He couldn't—
"Yeah, I'm here, sorry."
Relief.
"I…You're not going to like this…but I didn't find an escape pod. They're…Uhm, many of them were crushed by debris."
Wait.
No.
Nonono—
"Y-You mean, you're still stuck in the station."
It's less of a question and more of a statement.
"Yeah. I'm sorry, Sven."
Sven could feel his world crashing down around him.
Not Burt, anything but him.
Please, please, please please please please—
"I—You," he felt like he was choking, "T-There must be at least one. Please, Burt."
"...I'm sorry." He heard him sigh, "It's my fault anyway."
"It wasn't your fault."
The others in the escape pod were staring at him.
"..."
He got up and stumbled to the window, pressing his hands on it.
"Hey Sven?"
If he pressed his hands against the glass harder, maybe, just maybe, he could phase through and get to Burt.
"...Sven? I need to tell you something."
"Yeah?"
"I…You're a good friend."
The Toppat Station exploded in a quiet blast, sending pieces of shrapnel flying everywhere, and there was the crackle of static in his ear.
He dropped to his knees and screamed.
The other elites in the pod looked on in horror, watching their leader break down in front of them, curling into himself, listening to his gut-wrenching sobs.
But in Sven's mind, he was alone.
He'snotdeadhe'snotdeadhe'ssafeeveryoneissafe—
There's nothing wrong.
But he's still screaming, and he's still crying, he reached up and gripped his hair and pulled at it and combed his fingers roughly through it.
There's nothing wrong, but everything hurts.
Burt's still alive. He's safe, he's in an escape pod. Everyone's safe, there's nothing to be afraid of. Everyone's safe, everything was fine.
Digging his nails into his scalp, he then moved them to his arms and dragged them down instead in an attempt to anchor himself.
He's fine, he's calm, he's fine.
He can't breathe, he's still choking out sobs and coughing, he started wailing again and his chest hurt badly.
His heart felt like it was being squeezed but he could still hear his heartbeat.
The pod hit the ground, jolting him.
How long had he been sitting there?
He's trembling, his body shaking almost violently, he can't move and he can't breathe .
He needed to throw up.
Carol ducked past him and kicked open the pod door, then dragged him out.
She said something, but he can't hear her over the ringing in his ears.
He tries to read her lips, but he's wheezing and he feels sick and dizzy.
She searched his pockets, then slipped something into his hands.
An inhaler.
Struggling into a sitting position, he straightens his back, tilting his head back slightly and lifting the inhaler to his mouth.
He watches her fingers as she counts.
Breathe in.
One, two, three, four, five
Hold breath.
Ten seconds.
Breathe out.
A minute, he's calming down.
He felt disgusting, probably looked like it too.
Placing his hand on his back, Ahnoldt runs circles with his thumb.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Everything is okay. Burt's okay.
His throat felt raw and like it was on fire. It's fine.
Ahnoldt must have said something, because Carol looked at him for a bit, her face scrunched up in an indecipherable expression.
He barely makes out what they say, the ringing in his ear is dying down, it's something along the lines of " We can't let him lie to himself."
She looked back at him and hesitated, but began to speak.
"Sorry, boss. Burt's gone. The station is gone too. We're on Earth."
It hit him again like a bullet, although he knew that he already knew that.
He's still devastated.
Nothing was fine. The station he worked so hard on was gone. He was left with a fraction of the Toppats left.
And Burt was dead .
He wanted to scream and shout and curse.
But when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. He tried and tried, and still not a sound.
Carol and Ahnoldt looked confused.
He was trapped and alone, even with them next to him.
Why couldn't he be better, why didn't he make the station stronger, why hadn't he looked for Burt?
Burt was dead because of him . Burt, who had stayed by his side and supported him, who made Sven feel euphoric when he managed to make him laugh, who had a perfectly beautiful life ahead of him, was gone.
Just like that.
And countless other Toppats had perished along with him.
He doubled over and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor, which was mostly liquid and acid as he hadn't eaten anything yet.
It made the burning feeling in his throat feel worse.
Gagging and squirming, even when there was nothing coming out anymore, there still felt like there was something stuck somewhere.
Tears spilled down his cheeks again. He was going to be so dehydrated after this. Rubbing his face with his hands, he scooched away from the pod, curling up again.
He shouldn't be and didn't want to be in charge anymore. He knew he wouldn't be able to take it.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Slowly, he relaxed his body. His heart was still pounding.
He didn't feel like doing anything at all.
Tiredly, his mind slowly went blank. He only thought of one thing.
It should have been him who died.