But as the seconds ticked by, the crushing, horrifying reality settled over him like a suffocating lead blanket.
She wasn't breathing. The warm, comforting hum of her presence in his mind—the tether that had kept his ego intact while he floated in this cosmic graveyard—was completely, entirely silent.
Sebastian slowly pulled her body closer to his face. The cracked porcelain mask that covered his visage wept thick, oily black tears of digital blood. The heavy drops fell from his empty eye sockets, splashing silently against the dark void.
"You really couldn't just order takeout, could you, Princess?" Sebastian whispered, his voice cracking violently. "You always had to do things the hard way. You couldn't just sit in the bunker and let me handle it."
