He must be exiting the construct. He saw me step out over the empty air and vanish just a moment ago. What would he have to lose by following me, at this point? And now that his body is no longer in shock, he’ll be able to regain consciousness.

“Mirage,” I say, “teleport him now.”

Elliott’s eyes blink open. He squints, then starts to sit up. He spots me—one hand still on his chest, the other pressed to the rainbow floor.

I smile at him. I make it look careless. “Just say hi to Ty for me when you get the chance, would you?” My voice wavers despite my resolve.

His eyes widen. He starts to open his mouth. And then he blinks out of existence, successfully teleported away.

My right hand drops back to my side, empty. I bow my head, now that he’s not here to see, and let myself feel all the things that are clawing through me. Despair, fear, triumph. And pain, too. My skin is clammy under the wave of agony that’s slowly building in my palm, about to explode over me, about to incinerate me.

The ship around me trembles and shrieks: a high, visceral, metallic sound. “What’s that?” I ask Mirage.

I’m letting parts of me break off and burn up, he explains. So I won’t be too big when I hit the ground. I don’t want to cause damage.

I shake my head, look down at the blood that’s still smudged on the floor where Elliott was. “You two are just alike, you know that? Always trying to save people you shouldn’t. They shot you down. I’d leave them to burn.”

No, you wouldn’t.

His faith in my good nature isn’t warranted, but I want to let him keep it, so I stay quiet.

Elliott is safe, he reports. I jettisoned the pod. It’ll land near the others in a few minutes.

I nod and squeeze my eyes closed. Then I open them, because the bright orange flames are still scorching the outside of the ship, and didn’t I wish for a brilliant death?

So brilliant that there can’t be any darkness. So brilliant that I can’t see the shadows eating me alive.

There’s another trembling in the floor beneath me, more violent now, and transparent walls spring up only a dozen or so feet around me. The flames encircle me completely now, below, around, above. Mirage is letting the rest of himself burn up. I can hear him screaming. Then the wave of pain hits me and we’re screaming together. My fingers curl violently inward, nails scraping against the smooth floor, splitting and tearing under the pressure.