Chapter Text
The team had been on the run for days. Their mission, to uncover crucial information about their mother’s whereabouts and her connection to the mysterious forces hunting them, had taken them to the farthest reaches of the Raelo they were on. Every step forward felt like a race against time, but the enemies that pursued them were relentless, leaving them with little space to breathe. The map they’d secured had been hard won, and the weight of their findings made it all the more urgent to escape and regroup.
They’d been chased through abandoned cities, hidden in caverns, and narrowly avoided traps set to capture or kill them. The atmosphere was tense—dangerous. Every corner they turned felt like an ambush waiting to happen. It wasn’t just the physical threat that loomed over them anymore; it was the gnawing pressure of time running out, the uncertainty of whether they could find their mother before their enemies found them.
When the team finally located the ship—an old but functional transport vessel capable of getting them off the Raelo—it felt like a miracle. This was their only chance to escape. The ship was barely operational, with parts of its systems having long since broken down, but it was capable of getting them far away from the Raelo and the threats that lurked in the shadows.
The problem was, the ship was preparing to launch, and they didn’t have enough time to fix all of its failing systems. Even worse, they weren’t the only ones aware of its location. The enemy forces had tracked them down, and a surprise attack was imminent. They had mere minutes before the enemy would catch up, and they needed to act fast.
The team scrambled to board the ship, securing their belongings, activating whatever systems they could, but it became clear: they could only escape if someone stayed behind. The ship’s security system was locked down—set to protect its vital systems and prevent unauthorized access—and it could only be unlocked manually from a console in the ship’s engine room. But that meant one person would have to remain on the Raelo, risking being captured, or worse, while the others fled to safety.
The reality of the decision hit hard.
“We don’t have time,” Judah said, voice tense as he stared at the ship’s countdown, which flashed on the screen. “We’re either all on this ship, or none of us are. We can’t afford to wait for someone to override the security system manually. We need someone to stay behind.”
“We’re not just going to sacrifice one of us,” Michelle snapped, her voice full of anger and panic. She clenched her fists at her sides, pacing in front of the team. “There has to be another way. We fight, we figure something out. We’re not leaving anyone behind.”
“We don’t have time for another plan,” Josiah argued. “The ship will take off in minutes, and the hostiles will be here before we can blink. It’s either we leave now, or we all stay and fight, which means none of us leave.”
Micah stood back, his mind racing. His protective instinct flared up, but he fought to keep his thoughts clear. He knew what needed to be done, but he wasn’t about to let anyone else make that choice for him.
“I’ll stay behind,” Michelle said before anyone could protest. She stepped forward, meeting Micah’s eyes. “I’ll stay and override the system. You’re not losing anyone else today.”
She spoke with certainty, but Micah’s heart twisted at the thought of her putting herself in harm’s way. He stepped forward immediately, his voice firm and resolute.
“No. You’re not staying behind.” He shook his head, jaw set. “ I’m the one who should do it.”
Michelle froze, a dark scowl forming. “You’re not making that decision for me, Micah. I’ll stay behind, I’ll take care of it.”
“No,” Micah repeated, his gaze hardening. “You’ve already been through too much. You don’t get to keep sacrificing yourself.”
The two stared each other down, the rest of the team watching, unable to intervene. In that moment, the urgency of the situation didn’t matter; it was all about the weight of the decision. Both of them were willing to make the sacrifice, both of them trying to protect the other from the pain of loss.
“Michelle,” Micah finally said, his voice softer now, almost pleading, “this is what I have to do. We both know it.” He turned to face the rest of the team. “I can’t live with the thought of leaving you all to deal with this without me.”
The silence in the air thickened, and Michelle’s expression faltered. “Micah, no—”
“You’re the reason I’m doing this,” he interrupted. “If it were up to me, I’d stay by your side, but you know this has to be done. You’ve already been through enough. You don’t have to keep shouldering this burden.” His voice cracked slightly at the last words, but he held her gaze with a steady resolve. “It has to be me. I’ll get the system online, and you all get to safety. It’s the only way.”
The air inside the ship’s control room was thick with tension. The countdown for departure continued to tick down, and every second felt like a hammer to Michelle’s heart. Their enemies were closing in, and time was running out. There was no other option, no other way. The sacrifice had to be made—someone had to stay behind to ensure the rest of the team could escape. But she couldn’t accept it. She wouldn’t.
Micah, ever the protector, stood resolute, his face drawn in determination, but Michelle could see the weariness in his eyes. She could see it all—the weight of the decision, the knowledge that he was about to make the ultimate sacrifice for the people he loved. And it cut her to the bone. Her fingers were shaking, her heart pounding in her chest, but she wasn’t going to let him walk away this time.
“Why do you always do this?” she demanded, her voice tight with frustration. “Why do you always put yourself last, Micah? You’re not a martyr! ” Her voice cracked as she stepped forward, her hand reaching for his in desperation. “You can’t just keep sacrificing yourself for everyone else! It’s not fair!” The words spilled out in a rush, the raw emotion breaking through the walls she’d tried so hard to maintain.
Micah flinched, the words hitting him like a physical blow, but he didn’t waver. He knew why he did it, even if it didn’t make it any easier to explain. “Michelle, I—I can’t let anything happen to you. Or to any of them.” He took a step closer, his voice steady despite the storm in his eyes. “I’m the one who can take this on. I’m the one who can do it. We don’t have time for anything else.”
Her grip tightened around his hand, and she looked up at him with eyes full of pleading. “But why, Micah? Why you? You’ve already lost so much for me. For us. And now you want to lose yourself too?” Her words felt like daggers, each one a reminder of the pain they had both endured—the losses, the sacrifices, the fears that never seemed to let up. She had been bracing for this moment for so long, but now that it was here, her mind couldn’t wrap around the idea of losing him again.
She shook her head, her voice breaking. “I’m not going to lose you too, Micah. I can’t. I can’t do it.”
There was a tremor in his hand as he reached up to cup her cheek, brushing away the tear that had slipped down her face. “You’re not going to lose me, Michelle,” he said softly, though the finality in his tone sent a chill through her. “I’ll always be with you, no matter what happens.”
His eyes were pained, yet resolute, as if he’d already accepted the fate that he had to face. She couldn’t bear to see that look in his eyes—not again. She couldn’t accept that he was willing to walk away from her for their safety, that he would give up his own life for theirs.
“You’re wrong,” Michelle whispered, voice shaking as she refused to let go of his hand. “You’re wrong. You’re not supposed to be the one who sacrifices everything. I—” Her words faltered as the reality of the situation washed over her. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but it wasn’t enough. “I can’t let you go, Micah. I won’t. ”
The ship’s engines hummed quietly in the background, the countdown growing louder as the urgency of the situation weighed on them both. Every second counted. And yet, in that moment, nothing felt more important than the pain in her chest—the fear of losing him, the fear of never being able to hold him again.
Micah exhaled sharply, his own resolve beginning to waver at the sight of her anguish. He had known this would hurt her, but seeing it now, hearing the break in her voice, made the weight of his choice that much heavier. But he couldn’t take it back. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t do this.
“Michelle…” His voice trembled slightly, but he swallowed hard and continued. “You mean everything to me. But this is the only way. Please understand that.”
She nodded, her eyes filled with unshed tears, but she didn’t let go of his hand. Her breath hitched, her heart shattering as she realized the magnitude of what he was saying. He was leaving. Leaving her. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.
The others were ready to leave, their expressions grim, but they knew there was no stopping Micah now. It was his decision, and it was already made.
Michelle stepped closer, her lips trembling as she reached up to kiss him—a soft, desperate kiss, as if trying to imprint the moment into her mind, as if she could somehow hold onto him with just this touch. He kissed her back gently, the kiss filled with a quiet, aching sadness that neither of them could fully express.
“I’ll be right here when you come back,” she whispered against his lips, the words barely audible.
Micah pulled away just enough to look at her, his eyes soft, but filled with the weight of everything he was leaving behind. “You will,” he promised, his voice low. “You’ll always be with me, no matter where I go.”
Her fingers tightened around his, unwilling to let go even as he stepped away. The others were waiting. There was no more time. The ship’s countdown was almost finished.
“Goodbye, Michelle,” Micah said, his voice strained with emotion. “I’ll always love you.”
“I love you too,” Michelle whispered, her throat tight, the words feeling too heavy to say, but she forced them out anyway. She couldn’t lose him without telling him—without him knowing. “Please come back to me.”
And with that, he turned, disappearing into the ship’s interior to complete the override. Michelle stood there, her heart in her throat, watching him go. The seconds ticked away, and the ship’s engines roared to life, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t. Not yet.
—
The seconds felt like hours as Micah sprinted toward the ship’s systems, his breath coming in sharp gasps. His mind was focused solely on the task ahead, but beneath the calm determination, his heart hammered painfully in his chest. He couldn’t afford to hesitate. The ship’s engines would fire soon, and they had no time to spare.
Then, with a deep breath and a quiet prayer, Micah pressed the button that would seal the ship’s fate—and theirs. His hand hovered for just a moment over the control panel, as if lingering in the moment, as if wishing there could be another way, another choice. But the seconds were slipping away, and he knew there was no turning back.
As the button clicked into place, the ship’s engines roared to life behind him, a deafening sound that vibrated through his body. The countdown began. Time was running out faster than he could process. He glanced up at the door to the ship, imagining Michelle’s face—the panic, the desperation, the unwillingness to let him go—and his heart twisted in response.
The countdown reached thirty seconds.
His fingers trembled as he worked frantically, entering the final security codes, overriding the ship’s system so it would function without him. His mind raced faster than the seconds. His thoughts kept drifting back to Michelle—her face, her voice, her pleas. He had promised her that he would always come back, but how could he? Not like this.
The countdown continued. Fifteen seconds.
“Please… stay safe,” he whispered under his breath, his voice barely audible above the hum of the engines.
He couldn’t help it. He thought of the way she had kissed him earlier, the feeling of her hands in his, her voice full of love and fear. He thought of her words, Please come back to me. How could he? The weight of the sacrifice was almost too much to bear, but he knew it had to be done.
Five seconds.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, but his resolve didn’t waver. The mission was too important. He was too important to let them down.
With a final glance at the ship’s systems, he sealed the last command and bolted toward the exit. But as the doors began to close behind him, he could already hear the roar of the ship taking off. The ground beneath him trembled, and he felt the pull of the ship's departure as if it were a physical weight on his chest.
The ship lifted off, the hum of the engines filling the air. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he heard Michelle’s voice. The final words she had whispered to him echoed in his mind: I love you, too.
His eyes burned, but he refused to let the tears fall. He couldn’t. Not now. Not when the mission wasn’t over. His final words—those words he had told her—played on a loop in his mind: You’ll always be with me, no matter where I go
As the ship soared into the sky, his body still frozen in place, Micah felt the crushing weight of his choice. He had made this decision for them, for the team, for Michelle. But it didn’t make it any easier. And as the last remnants of the ship’s roar faded into the distance, he was left alone in the empty silence, the aching void of separation pulling at his soul.
The seconds felt like hours as Michelle stood frozen, her gaze fixed on the doors that Micah had disappeared through. Her breath was shallow, her heart heavy with the realization that, no matter how many times she tried to tell herself it wasn’t true, he was really gone. The ship had taken off, and he was no longer with them. The silence inside the ship seemed to echo louder than any sound, the absence of his presence filling every corner.
Shiloh, Judah, Josiah, and Elijah had already gathered near the control deck, exchanging quiet, sorrowful glances. They were heartbroken to lose their brother. Micah had always been their rock, their protector. But it was the unspoken worry over Michelle that weighed most heavily on them now. They could feel the agony radiating off of her, and they knew the pain of seeing her lose the one person who had meant everything to her. She had been holding it together for so long—strong, independent, stubborn—but this, this was different.
Shiloh was the first to step forward, her footsteps barely making a sound as she approached her friend. She hesitated for just a moment, then placed a gentle hand on Michelle’s shoulder.
“Hey,” Shiloh said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Michelle didn’t respond. She remained still, her eyes unblinking as if she were waiting for Micah to come back through the doors, as if she could will him to return just by standing there. But the reality was sinking in, and the numbness had begun to crack.
“He’s gone,” Michelle’s voice was hollow, lifeless, and it shook with the weight of her grief. “He’s really gone.” She said it like a statement, as though there was no more denial left in her, just the cold truth.
Shiloh’s heart broke at the sound of Michelle’s voice—so different from the strong woman who had always faced everything head-on. Her friend’s resolve, the tough exterior she had always worn like armor, was crumbling in front of her. It wasn’t just that they had lost Micah; it was that Michelle had lost a piece of herself. She had already lost so much, and now this.
Michelle finally turned, her face contorting with the pain she had been holding back for so long. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them back, trying so desperately to keep her composure.
Before Shiloh could say anything more, Michelle’s shoulders trembled with the effort of holding herself together, and then the walls she had so carefully built collapsed. She was no longer able to keep the grief at bay.
Without a word, Shiloh pulled her into a tight hug. The embrace was warm, comforting, but it couldn’t take away the ache. Michelle buried her face in Shiloh’s shoulder, her sobs coming in sharp, quiet gasps as the full weight of Micah’s sacrifice hit her all at once. She had been so strong for so long, but now that strength had faded, replaced with the raw vulnerability of a woman who had just lost the love of her life.
The others stayed back, giving Shiloh and Michelle the space they needed. Their eyes were full of their own sorrow, but they knew this moment was for Michelle. No one could understand the depth of her pain—how much Micah had meant to her, how deeply she had loved him and still did. But Shiloh was there, holding her in the way that only a friend could, letting her cry when she needed to, offering her comfort without needing words.
“I’m so sorry,” Shiloh whispered, her own tears threatening to spill, but she held them back. She couldn’t afford to break down right now—not when Michelle needed her.
The seconds stretched into minutes, and the sobs slowly began to quiet, but Michelle didn’t pull away. She was exhausted, emotionally and physically, and the comfort of Shiloh’s embrace was the only thing grounding her in that moment.
“I didn’t want to lose him,” Michelle whispered hoarsely after a long silence, her voice trembling. “I couldn’t—couldn’t bear the thought of him never coming back to me.”
Shiloh squeezed her tighter, nodding even though she knew there were no words that could fix what had just happened. “I know,” she murmured, her voice soft and steady despite the tears in her eyes. “I know.”
But Michelle wasn’t done. She pulled away slightly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, her face pale and blotchy from crying. She took a deep breath, though it was shaky. “I just— I don’t know how to let go. He’s always been the one who kept us all together, kept me together. And now… now it feels like I’m losing everything all over again.”
Shiloh gently cupped Michelle’s face in her hands, forcing her to meet her gaze. “You’re not alone, Michelle. You’ve never been alone. We’re all here for you, and we’ll get through this together. You don’t have to do this on your own.”
Michelle looked up at her, the pain still there, but there was a flicker of hope in her eyes. The team was still here. They were all still here, even without Micah. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to get through the darkness.
For now, it had to be.
As Shiloh pulled Michelle back into the hug, the weight of everything—the heartache, the loss, the void left by Micah’s absence—seemed to sink deeper. Michelle clung to her, desperate for any ounce of comfort she could find. Shiloh held her tightly, not letting go, her own tears mingling with Michelle’s as she quietly whispered reassurances. But even though Shiloh’s presence was a balm to her raw wounds, the absence of Micah was suffocating.
And just as Michelle’s sobs began to quiet, feeling the smallest flicker of warmth from Shiloh’s embrace, she felt movement behind her. Without warning, Judah, Josiah, and Elijah appeared at her side, each of them standing there, silently offering their own version of comfort.
It was Judah who stepped forward first, his hands resting gently on Michelle’s back as he joined the embrace. His usual sarcastic edge was gone, replaced with an overwhelming sorrow that mirrored Michelle’s. He wasn’t known for showing a lot of emotion, but in this moment, his grief was raw, evident in the way his shoulders were taut with the weight of it all.
“I know it doesn’t make sense right now,” Judah said quietly, his voice rough, but filled with sincerity, “but we’re not going anywhere, Michelle. You’re not alone in this.”
Josiah stepped forward next, his hands reaching out to touch Michelle’s shoulders. He didn’t need to say anything; his presence was enough. The understanding in his eyes spoke volumes. They didn’t need to say a word to know how much they all shared in this loss. Josiah was always the one who held things in, the one who kept a calm exterior, but his vulnerability now was evident in the way he stood beside her.
Elijah reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he touched Michelle’s arm. “We’re all here for you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Micah may be gone, but we’re not going anywhere. We’ll get through this as a team, Michelle. Just like we always do.”
With their presence, Michelle’s heart felt a little lighter, though the weight of losing Micah still felt unbearable. She didn’t pull away from Shiloh, but the combined warmth of her brothers enveloped her, and for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to lean into the comfort they offered. They may not have had Micah anymore, but they still had each other—and that was enough to keep her going, even if just for a little while longer.
The group stood together in that quiet moment, all of them wrapped in their shared grief and loss. The silence was heavy, but it wasn’t oppressive. There was something healing in the way they all leaned into one another, a reminder that no matter how much they’d lost, they still had something—each other.
Shiloh’s voice was gentle as she spoke, breaking the silence. “We’re not going to let you go through this alone, Michelle. We promise.”
Michelle nodded, though the tears continued to fall. The ache in her chest hadn’t eased, but there was a small flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, with them by her side, she could find the strength to keep moving forward.
For now, that was all she could ask for. And with the arms of her brothers around her, she knew she wasn’t alone. She’d find a way to keep going, no matter how hard it was.
And for Micah… for him, she would keep fighting.
—
Micah stood alone in the desolate expanse, the sound of the ship’s engines fading in the distance. His heart still pounded in his chest as the last echo of the countdown rang through his mind. He’d made his choice, and the consequences of it were now set in motion. The silence of the empty space around him was deafening.
The moment he pressed the button to seal their fate, he knew it was too late to turn back. He could only watch as the ship lifted off, taking his family—taking Michelle—away to safety. The weight of that final decision pressed heavily on him, but he didn’t allow himself to feel regret. It was what needed to be done, what he had to do. He wasn’t a martyr, he reminded himself. He wasn’t doing this for praise. He was doing it because he loved them too much to let them be caught, too much to risk losing them.
He took a deep breath, pushing away the rising tide of emotion that threatened to break through his calm façade. But it wasn’t just the mission, the responsibility, that kept him rooted to the spot. It was the thought of Michelle, of her tear-streaked face when he left. He would never forget the desperate plea in her eyes, the way her hand had gripped his, trying to hold him back.
His throat tightened, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push away the image of her—the pain on her face when she realized he wouldn’t be coming back with them. He knew she was angry with him, frustrated that he always put himself at risk, always made the hard choice to sacrifice himself for others. But in that moment, he couldn’t afford to think of her pain. He couldn’t afford to think of what it would mean to lose her, to leave her behind.
But he was still here. Alone.
Micah turned and made his way to the small outpost near the ship, the one place he could start working on the override that would allow the enemy’s pursuit to be delayed long enough for the others to escape. His footsteps echoed hollowly in the empty space, each one feeling like a small piece of him breaking away.
He let out a shaky breath and pulled up the holographic interface that would allow him to take control of the ship’s systems. The moment he connected to the system, his mind felt like it was on overdrive—calculating, adjusting, overriding sequences with a speed born from necessity. But even as he worked, his mind kept returning to Michelle’s face, to her words.
“Why do you always do this? You’re not a martyr, Micah!”
Her voice cracked in his mind, and he flinched, pushing the memory aside.
It wasn’t martyrdom, he told himself. It wasn’t. It was love. And love meant doing whatever it took to protect the people you cared about—even if that meant sacrificing yourself.
The seconds ticked by, and the urgency of the situation gnawed at him. He could already hear the sounds of the enemy forces approaching, the distant hum of their ships cutting through the silence. His time was running out.
The last thing he did before finishing the override was to pull out his communicator, sending a final message to the team.
“I’m sorry, Michelle. I wish... I wish I could be there with you. But this is my choice. This is for all of you.”
“I’m sorry Michelle,”
It wasn’t much, but it was the only thing he could offer at that moment. He wanted them to know, just in case.
As the override kicked in, he heard the rumble of the enemy ships closing in. His job was done. The rest of the team was safe—for now. But as he turned toward the incoming threat, something deep inside him twisted painfully.
He wasn’t sure if he’d ever see them again, especially Michelle. His heart hurt at the thought, but he pushed it away. There was no time for regrets now. There was only the mission, only the need to buy his family as much time as possible.
Micah steadied his breath, looked toward the sky where the ship had vanished, and then squared his shoulders.
For them, he would do anything.
And as the first enemy ship crested the horizon, Micah took one last look at the empty expanse around him, preparing to face whatever came next.
As Micah stood there, the darkened expanse of space stretching out before him, the distant hum of enemy ships growing louder with each passing second, Michelle’s voice echoed in his mind.
“You’re not a martyr, Micah.”
Her words cut through the storm of his thoughts, sharper than any of the blows he’d faced in battle. She had been so angry, so frustrated with him, and it hurt in a way he couldn’t put into words. Why do you always do this? she’d asked. You don’t have to do this. You’ve already lost so much for me.
His chest tightened at the memory. He had already lost so much, but it was all for them, for her.
Another flash of her tear-streaked face crossed his mind. He could still see her hand gripping his, her desperation. I’m not going to lose you, too.
The words stung. His pulse quickened as he remembered the softness in her voice, the vulnerability she had tried so hard to hide. He could still feel the pressure of her fingers on his skin, the way she held him as if she could keep him from slipping away.
And now, he was here— alone —away from her, away from the team. The weight of that realization was heavier than anything he’d ever carried before.
“I’m not going to lose you, too.”
Her voice was louder now, filling his thoughts, pushing out everything else. He could hear the raw emotion in those words, the pleading tone that had broken through the anger. She hadn’t wanted him to go, had begged him to stay, to come with her.
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk their lives, couldn’t put them in danger just to keep himself safe. They deserved a chance at survival, a future free of the threats that had haunted them. And he had made the choice to give them that chance, even if it meant never seeing them again.
I love you, Michelle. You’re my reason for everything.
The thought came unbidden, and the ache in his heart only deepened. His heart hurt with the weight of it, with the certainty that this was the last time he would ever speak those words to her. I love you. It wasn’t just a declaration, it was his truth. The truth that would stay with him, whether she ever heard it or not.
As the first of the enemy ships loomed closer, a part of him wanted to believe that she would come back for him, that somehow they would find a way to rescue him. But the more realistic side of him knew that she couldn’t, that he couldn’t ask her to risk everything for him.
So, he pushed the thought aside and focused on the task at hand, overriding the systems and preparing himself for whatever came next. But the echo of her last words followed him like a shadow, reminding him of what he was leaving behind.
“You’re not a martyr.”
But maybe she was wrong. Maybe this was what it meant to love someone—sacrificing everything to make sure they were safe, even if it meant never seeing them again.
The rumble of the approaching ships grew louder, and Micah clenched his fists, ready to face the battle ahead. But even as he steeled himself, her words refused to leave him. He’d done this for her. He’d done this for all of them.
And even if he didn’t survive, at least he knew he’d given them a chance.
“I’m not going to lose you, too.”
Her words lingered in the air around him, a final whisper of the love he had left behind. And in that moment, as the first blast of enemy fire lit up the horizon, Micah let out a steady breath, the weight of his decision settling over him.
Whatever came next, it had been worth it.
For her. For all of them.
The fire from the enemy ships grew closer, the sound of weapons discharging deafening as Micah continued to work quickly. His fingers flew over the console, overriding the ship’s security system with seconds to spare. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but amidst it all, Michelle’s voice rang out like a bell.
“I’m not going to lose you, too.”
He could almost hear the way she’d said it—her voice trembling, raw with emotion. She’d been so scared, so vulnerable. And he hadn’t been able to reassure her, not the way he wanted. The pain in her voice, the fear that he might slip away, tore at him even now. He didn’t want to leave her like that, not with so many words left unsaid.
His hand hovered over the final button that would trigger the ship’s defensive protocols. His chest tightened, the weight of his decision pressing down on him with each breath. I love you, Michelle, he thought again, his heart hammering in his chest. He hadn’t said it enough—hadn’t shown her enough how much she meant to him. And now, it was too late.
But even if this was the last time he thought those words, he knew she would understand. She had to. She had to know that everything he was doing, every sacrifice he made, was because of her—because he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, either.
With a final glance at the countdown on the screen, Micah made his decision. The ship’s systems had been secured. The countdown continued to tick down.
His thoughts drifted back to her. He’d always been the one to try and protect her, to keep her safe from harm. But in the end, she had always been the one to protect him, to show him that it was okay to lean on someone else, to let someone else help carry the burden. He should’ve let her in more, should’ve let her share this load.
But there was no time for regrets now.
The enemy ships were almost upon him.
The sound of a distant explosion rattled through the ship, and Micah flinched, his heart racing. He pushed himself back, standing straight as he mentally braced for what was about to happen. He knew this was it—his final stand, the moment where everything he’d fought for would either pay off or fall apart.
“I’m not going to lose you, too.”
The words echoed in his head, a final reminder of what he was leaving behind.
The seconds ticked away.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper.
“I’m sorry, Michelle. I hate to leave you like this. I wish I could be there with you. But this is what I have to do.”
The enemy ships closed in, and Micah set his jaw. No turning back now. He was ready for whatever came next.
His last thought before the explosion rocked the ship was of Michelle. That last image of her face—frustrated, worried, heartbroken.
And, despite everything, a part of him still hoped. Still hoped she would come for him. That somehow, against all odds, she would find a way to save him.
But as the explosion sent shockwaves through the ship, Micah’s mind went blank, and all that remained was the faintest echo of her voice.
“I’m not going to lose you, too.”
And then, silence.
—
The ship was in full flight now, the engines humming steadily beneath them, but the air inside was thick with tension. Shiloh sat in the pilot’s seat, eyes glued to the view screen, trying to push away the knot in her stomach. Her fingers tightened on the controls as she fought to keep the ship steady, her mind racing. The others were quiet around her, their expressions a mix of sadness and disbelief.
Michelle had barely moved since they left the planet’s surface, her eyes vacant as she stared at the empty space where Micah had just been. He had been the one to stay behind, the one to sacrifice himself so they could escape, but the weight of that decision sat heavily on all of them.
“Shiloh,” Josiah’s voice broke the silence. “You doing okay?”
Shiloh didn’t answer right away. She was doing her best to focus on piloting the ship, trying not to let her emotions overwhelm her, but it was hard. She couldn’t stop thinking about Micah. What if it wasn’t enough? What if they never saw him again? Her stomach twisted at the thought, but she quickly forced the worry aside. They had to move forward. They had to survive.
“I’m fine,” she finally said, her voice tight. “But I—I don’t know what’s happening with Micah right now. I can’t…” Her words trailed off, the unease in her chest too much to express.
Judah, who was seated next to her, clenched his fists on his lap. He was always the one to keep things together, to keep the tone light no matter what. But even he couldn’t hide the grief that clung to him now. They all knew what Micah was doing. They knew he’d be the one to ensure their escape, but the weight of that truth made it harder to breathe.
Michelle, however, was the hardest to watch. She hadn’t spoken a word since they left the surface, her gaze fixed on the spot where Micah had been just moments ago. Shiloh knew her older sister was struggling, but she didn’t know how to help. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Michelle was feeling. Losing Micah—again—was unthinkable. The bond they shared, the love they had for each other… Shiloh couldn’t understand it fully, but she could see how it had changed them both.
“I’m sorry, Michelle,” Shiloh whispered softly, her voice breaking as she reached for her sister’s hand. “I know it hurts, but Micah… he did this for all of us. For you.”
Michelle didn’t respond, but Shiloh could see the way her shoulders tensed, the pain in her expression. Michelle’s tears were still unshed, but Shiloh could feel them, like a weight in the air.
Suddenly, a beeping sound filled the ship’s cockpit, and a flashing alert appeared on the screen. It was a message, incoming from Micah’s ship.
Shiloh froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her heart pounded as she reached for the console, hands trembling as she brought the message up on the screen.
The others all leaned in, sensing something significant.
The message was short—too short—but it was enough. Shiloh’s hands went cold as she read it out loud, her voice strained.
“I’m sorry, Michelle. I wish... I wish I could be there with you. But this is my choice. This is for all of you.”
For a split second, it felt like the entire world stopped. The message hung in the air, the words sinking into each of them like heavy stones.
Shiloh’s breath caught in her throat. She could barely hear anything over the pounding of her own pulse. The sound of her heart seemed so much louder than the message, louder than the others’ stunned silence.
And then came the final line, echoing in her mind like a thunderclap:
“I’m sorry, Michelle.”
The words were so simple, yet they carried so much weight. The sacrifice Micah was making was real. It was final.
Judah was the first to speak, his voice shaking, his eyes wide. “No… no, that can’t be it. There has to be more—”
But Michelle’s voice cut through his protests. It was barely above a whisper, but it was there. “No,” she said softly, her voice broken. “That’s it.”
The finality in her tone was like a dagger to Shiloh’s heart. She knew this was real, but hearing it from Michelle’s lips—hearing that the message Micah had left behind was his final goodbye—was the moment that it truly hit her. Micah wasn’t coming back.
Tears blurred Shiloh’s vision as she fought to hold it together, trying to keep the ship steady, trying to focus on the road ahead. But it was harder now than it had been before. Now that they knew the truth, the distance between them and Micah felt endless.
Michelle’s gaze remained fixed on the message, and for a moment, Shiloh thought she might break completely. The others, too, were holding their breath, waiting for something—anything—that could give them hope. But all they had were those words, that simple goodbye, and the aching reality of the danger they had just escaped.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shiloh whispered, barely able to speak, “We have to keep going. We can’t turn back. We owe it to him to keep going.”
Michelle nodded, her eyes distant but resolute.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “We’ll keep going. For him.”
And so, with the weight of their loss settling in, they continued their journey through the stars, holding onto what little hope they had left—hope that one day, they would find a way to make it right, to honor the sacrifice Micah had made for them all.
—
The world around Micah seemed to implode in an instant, a blinding flash of light followed by an overwhelming pressure that crushed everything in its wake. The ship shuddered violently, its systems blinking red, alarms blaring in his ears as the shockwave of the explosion tore through the hull. For a moment, Micah felt weightless, suspended in time, as if everything around him had stopped moving. His breath caught in his throat, and his chest tightened as the pain of what he had just done—the decision he had made—settled like a stone in his gut.
For a split second, he wondered if he’d been too late, if his actions were futile, if he’d been wrong to think he could protect them all. His thoughts scrambled, racing through every possible outcome, his hand still hovering over the console, ready to make the final confirmation, but unable to take the step, as if the enormity of the moment had paralyzed him.
Then the ship lurched again, snapping him back to the present. The comms flickered to life, static crackling through the speakers. He could barely make out the words, but there was one that cut through the confusion:
“Micah!”
It was Michelle’s voice. His heart clenched painfully at the sound of her name, at the desperation in her tone. I’m sorry, Michelle. I wish… I wish I could be there with you.
For the briefest moment, he thought he might be able to hear her one last time, but then everything went dark. The consoles in front of him blinked out, the screens fading to black as the ship was consumed by the explosion.
He didn’t know how long it was before the silence returned. It was a thick, suffocating kind of silence, the kind that stretched out endlessly, like a void. He could feel the cold creeping into his bones, and the faint taste of smoke lingered in his mouth. He tried to move, to breathe, but his body felt like it was made of lead. His mind was foggy, distant, unable to focus on anything except the sensation of weightlessness, as though the world had gone numb.
And yet, despite the disorienting darkness, he held onto one thing. Michelle.
I’ll always come back to you.
The words were a lifeline, a final echo of the love he felt for her, and in that moment, they were all he had left. He tried to reach for the comms, tried to send another message, but his hand faltered. His vision blurred again, and he found himself drifting. He felt as if he were suspended in a dream, detached from everything around him, his body no longer his own.
I’m not going to lose you, too.
Her words. Her promise. He could still feel the warmth of her hand in his, the softness of her voice. And for a moment, Micah allowed himself to believe—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, she would find a way to pull him back. But deep down, he knew the truth.
He had made his choice.
And now, there was nothing left but the silence.
—
The ship’s engines hummed quietly as it came to a gentle stop in the Agency’s docking bay. The usual hum of activity in the bay had quieted, a hush falling over the space as everyone awaited the arrival of the team. A group had gathered in the spacious hangar, ready to greet the returning ship. Shiloh’s sister Mary stood near the front, her arms crossed, the worry evident on her face. Britney, her sister-in-law, was next to her, her posture stiff as though bracing for something she couldn’t name. David, her husband, stood slightly behind them, his face tight, unsure of what he would be walking into.
Lorenzo and Alex, two of the techs who had been helping the team with their mission, were busy in the background, their eyes scanning the bay’s monitors, checking the ship’s diagnostics. But no one seemed to speak—no one dared break the stillness that lingered in the air.
As the airlocks hissed open, the ramp descended with a soft clank, revealing the solemn group of travelers.
Shiloh, Elijah, Judah, Josiah, and Michelle emerged first, their faces clouded with exhaustion and grief, the weight of the journey clearly taking its toll on them. They moved slowly, each step measured and heavy, the loss of Micah still a fresh wound.
Mary’s eyes immediately locked onto her sister, her face a mixture of concern and helplessness. Britney’s gaze darted between the group, her smile faltering as she saw the grim faces of her family.
David gave them a nod, but the atmosphere made it clear that no words would come easy. No one spoke, the air thick with the tension of unspoken grief, fear, and the uncertainty that came with every mission.
“Shiloh,” Mary called out, her voice quiet but full of worry. “Is everything...?”
Shiloh glanced at her sister, then turned away, the words stuck in her throat. She couldn’t say it—not yet. She didn’t want to speak the truth out loud, to admit what they had lost. It hung over them, a shadow too heavy to lift.
Instead, Josiah answered, his voice rough from the emotional toll, “We couldn’t save him.” He didn’t have to say more. The words spoke for themselves. The silence that followed was deafening.
Elijah placed a comforting hand on his sister’s shoulder, his eyes dark and distant as he looked toward the others. He too couldn’t bring himself to say anything, the loss of his brother too recent, too raw.
Lorenzo and Alex exchanged quick, silent glances, their eyes filled with sympathy. They were a part of the team, a part of the mission, and they knew how hard this loss hit, even if they didn’t show it outwardly.
Then, Michelle stepped forward, her face pale and drawn, her eyes hollow. She had been silent, but now, her voice barely a whisper, she spoke.
“We couldn’t stop it,” she said, each word feeling like it cut through her chest. “Micah... Micah made the choice. He stayed behind to make sure we got out. He... he saved us.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and for a moment, it felt like everything stopped. Everyone who had been standing silently now seemed to hold their breath, the weight of Michelle’s confession sinking into the group.
“Why did he have to do that?” Shiloh whispered, her voice tight as her tears finally began to slip down her face. “Why did he think it had to be him? Why not any of us?”
Elijah put his arm around Shiloh, pulling her close, but his eyes were distant, lost in thought. Judah clenched his fists at his sides, trying to push down the grief and anger that threatened to boil over.
Britney moved closer to Shiloh, her arms opening to pull her into a hug, though Shiloh barely reacted, her face set in a hard, unreadable expression.
David stepped up to Michelle, his face full of compassion. “We’re all here for you. You’re not alone in this.”
But Michelle’s eyes were unfocused as she looked toward the ship, the docking bay. “He’s gone,” she whispered. “And I can’t... I can’t fix this.”
The group stood in the quiet, the reality of the loss sinking in. There was nothing to say. No words could ever fill the hollow space left behind by Micah’s sacrifice.