TEN.
The ship screamed as safeties disengaged one by one. The quantum core flared, light tearing at the chamber walls.
NINE.
The shadow surged forward, striking the containment field. Cracks spiderwebbed across the transparent alloy.
EIGHT.
"Sentinel," Elias said, teeth clenched. "Route all remaining power to the escape systems."
"There is insufficient time."
"Do it anyway."
SEVEN.
The voice returned, colder now.
YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE STOPPING.
"Story of my life."
SIX.
Gravity warped. Elias felt himself pulled in multiple directions at once, bones screaming under the strain.
FIVE.
"Elias," Sentinel said, its voice fraying. "If the core collapses, I will cease."
Elias didn't hesitate. "Then make it count."
FOUR.
The shadow screamed—not in sound, but in data, a burst of impossible information that shattered half the ship's sensors.
THREE.
The core destabilized, light folding inward, space collapsing like a dying star.
TWO.
Sentinel spoke one last time, softer than ever before.
"Thank you… for choosing."
ONE.
Reality broke.