Not withouthim.
I look down at my hands, expecting blood, expecting soot,something. But they’re clean.
Empty.
How are they clean?
They were just on his chest.
His skin was so hot. So alive.
I curl my fingers into fists, hard enough my nails bite skin.
This can’t be real.
It doesn’tfeelreal.
There should’ve been some miracle, right? Some last-minute twist? An extra pod I didn’t see? Him slamming into the door with some half-destroyed exo-suit, snarling something about fate and stupidity?
But there wasn’t.
Thereisn’t.
It’s just me.
Floating.
Alone.
In the dark.
I blink, and the stars outside smear like tears. Or maybe that’s just my vision. The Hulk’s nova is fading now—shrinking into the background like it was never there.
Likehewas never there.
Gods, I hate space.
It doesn’t hold you.
It doesn’t even pretend to care.
"Garokk," I whisper.
No answer.
My body finally gives up the fight. I sag in the seat like someone unplugged me. My heart’s still thudding too loud, too fast, but everything else? Numb.
My limbs feel like they’re floating separately from me. Like my body’s just meat the pod is carting through the stars. And my soul?—
I don’t know where the hellthatwent.
Maybe it stayed behind.
Maybe it burned up with him.
I stare at the control panel, just blinking lights and nav charts I can’t read. I’m not supposed to fly this thing. I’m not supposed tobealone. That was never the deal.
“Reflector,” I whisper.
