The Crimson Sky Part 2

Aiden was fading fast. Every move he made was sluggish, his once lightning-fast dodges were just a fraction too late, each breath rattling in his chest, more ragged and shallow than the last. The vibrant energy that had always crackled around him was now a flickering ember, threatening to extinguish completely.

Noah and Volkov stood unyielding against us, their combined presence a relentless, icy storm against our desperate, dwindling fight. Volkov’s cold calculation and Noah’s unwavering obedience formed an almost impenetrable wall.

And despite everything—we were losing. Even with the hamster battle suit, Aiden tried to land a hit on Noah, but his injuries slowed him down too much.

I clenched my fists, a raw, primal desperation clawing its way up my throat. We were so close, yet so far.

“We can stop this,” I gasped, shifting my stance, placing myself between Noah and a staggering Aiden. “You don’t have to do this – you don’t have to destroy the world. There has to be another way.”

Noah hesitated. Just for a fleeting, almost imperceptible moment, a flicker of something – doubt? regret? – crossed his stern features. But Volkov’s expression remained an unyielding mask of cold, detached resolve.

“This is beyond your control, Delia Kotton,” Volkov murmured, his voice devoid of emotion. “Beyond choices. Beyond mercy. It is a necessary correction.”

And then – it happened. The floating ship shuddered violently, a deep, guttural tremor rippling through the steel beneath our feet, as if some ancient, imprisoned beast was groaning from the very core of the vessel. I barely had time to register the unsettling sensation before the ground beneath us lurched with sickening force.

Aiden staggered, his already precarious balance finally breaking. His feet slipped on the uneven metal plating, his weakened legs unable to support him. My heart stopped, a terrifying coldness gripping my chest as I saw him falling, his body tilting precariously towards the edge of the platform and the deadly drop below.

“No—!” I lunged forward, a desperate, instinctive cry tearing from my throat, my hand shooting out, grabbing his wrist. My fingers closed around his forearm, the fabric of his suit rough beneath my desperate grip, but my hold was shaky, my own strength failing against the weight pulling him downward.

I squeezed harder, my arms burning with the strain, every muscle screaming in protest as I fought to keep him up, to keep him safe, to keep him here. But my hands were slipping, the sweat slicking my palms, his weight dragging me closer to the edge. He was slipping away. And then – Noah moved.

Fast. Too fast for my exhausted reflexes to track.

Before I could react, before I could even fully comprehend what was happening, Noah’s hand shot out, his grip surprisingly gentle but undeniably strong as he grabbed Aiden’s other arm and hauled him back onto the platform with a grunt, steadying both of us. Aiden gasped, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, his entire frame shaking uncontrollably. I stared at Noah, my chest heaving, confused, breathless, reeling from the impossible fact that he had just saved us. The man who had been our implacable enemy had just pulled Aiden back from the brink.

Volkov’s face contorted in a mask of cold fury, his eyes narrowed slits of pure, unadulterated rage. A slow, deliberate exhale hissed through his teeth, the sound more menacing than any shout. Then – without a flicker of hesitation, without a single word of explanation – he pulled out his knife. The polished steel glinted cruelly in the crimson light. Noah barely had time to register the deadly intent. The blade sank deep into his gut with a sickening thud, cruel and sharp, as Volkov stabbed his second-in-command, his loyal right hand, without a moment’s pause, without a shred of remorse.

A choked cry escaped Aiden’s lips, his voice cracking with disbelief and horror.

“Uncle!”

Noah stumbled backward, his hands clutching at the protruding knife, blood blooming against his uniform in a dark, horrifying stain. His expression, moments before resolute, now faded into something weary, something profoundly resigned. His hands shook violently as he pressed against the wound, a futile attempt to stem the lifeblood gushing from him. Then, in a quiet, broken breath, his gaze locking onto Aiden’s wide, tear-filled eyes, he whispered, “I’m sorry… I wasn’t a good uncle.”

Aiden’s eyes widened, a fresh wave of grief washing over his already pale face.

And I – I felt the very tide of the battle shift, a subtle but seismic change in the atmosphere, before I even had time to fully process the shocking betrayal. Volkov had made his final, ruthless choice. But now – so had Noah, in his dying confession. Volkov raised his bloodied blade, his gaze fixed on Aiden, ready to end his “failed experiment” himself, without hesitation, without remorse. My breath hitched in my throat, my hands moved instinctively, reaching for a weapon, for anything to stop him, but before I could act – the sky cracked open.

A searing bolt of red lightning, thicker and more violent than any before, tore through the swirling crimson clouds, striking Volkov directly. A deafening crack of thunder echoed across the ship, followed by a shockwave that slammed into us, throwing us back. I stumbled, shielding my eyes against the blinding flash as the force rippled outward, making the steel beneath our feet groan and buckle in protest. Volkov crashed to the ground, his body spasming violently as the raw electric current coursed through him.

Then – he laughed. A deep, guttural sound, twisted with a chilling satisfaction that sent shivers down my spine.

“It’s too late,” he rasped, his voice raw and distorted from the electric shock. “The storm has already begun. Nothing you can do will stop it now.”

I heard the frantic footsteps behind me before I felt them. Then – warm, familiar arms wrapped tightly around me, pulling me close.

“Delia!”

Lumina. Her tiny frame crashed into mine, her hands gripping my onesie, her breath shaky, desperate, relieved.

Dad followed close behind, pulling both of us into a fierce embrace. For just a moment, I let it happen. Let the reality sink in. Lumina was safe. Dad was here. We had made it.

But when I looked up, my relief faltered. Aiden wasn’t celebrating. His gaze was fixed on the turbulent sky, his expression tight, his mind clearly racing, calculating.

Then – he spoke, his voice low but filled with a sudden, desperate determination.

“There’s a way,” he murmured, his voice raspy from pain and exertion.

Dad turned to him, his brow furrowing with confusion and concern. “What are you talking about, Aiden? You’re in no condition—”

Aiden exhaled sharply, his wounds pressing against his consciousness, threatening to overwhelm him, but he refused to yield. He pushed through the pain, his eyes fixed on the swirling vortex of crimson above.

“If I wire the nuclear fusion reactor,” he continued, his voice strained but resolute, “with the flying hamster ball… I can generate a force strong enough to break through the storm’s atmosphere – and restart the sun.”

Dad’s face paled instantly, his eyes widening in horrified disbelief.

“No, Aiden. Absolutely not.”

Aiden’s lips curled into a weak smile. “Yes.”

Dad shook his head vehemently, his hands gripping Aiden’s arm with desperate strength. “You don’t understand – the energy requirements, the calculations… it wouldn’t work if the reactor was unmanned. It would overload, destroy everything!”

Aiden nodded slowly, his gaze steady.

“I know.”

My chest tightened, a cold dread gripping my heart. Dad’s grip on Aiden’s arm stiffened, his knuckles white.

“Aiden—”

Aiden exhaled, his gaze lifting to the raging storm again, his expression soft – but utterly sure.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, a profound sense of peace settling over his features.

Dad’s voice cracked, his fingers shaking.

“You can’t. You can't do this.”

Aiden chuckled—small, tired, but still his.

“I promised Lumina, remember?” His eyes flicked toward my sister, toward the little girl who had believed in him more than anyone ever had.

I felt the weight of his words before he even finished speaking.

“I’ll be the sun,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on the churning crimson clouds above, a strange serenity settling over his features. “Watching over everyone.”

My breath hitched painfully. No. No, he couldn’t be saying this. But as he looked at the sky, as the storm raged around us, as the world prepared to crumble under Volkov’s creation— I knew. He had already made his choice. 

Volkov’s hollow laughter echoed across the ravaged deck, a sound devoid of joy, laced with a bitter, almost self-destructive amusement. He leaned back against the blood-splattered steel railing, the crimson light reflecting in his cold eyes.

“You think you can do it, boy?” he rasped, his voice raw with a strange mix of mockery and something that might have been a flicker of…recognition? “You’ll die before it’s even possible. A pathetic, insignificant end to a pathetic, insignificant life.”

Aiden ignored him, his focus absolute. The massive hamster ball hummed with a vibrant energy, the frantic whirring of countless tiny paws working in perfect, selfless synchronicity. They were adjusting circuits, tightening connections, preparing their improbable vessel for its final, impossible voyage.

It was happening. I could feel it in the charged air, in the frantic energy radiating from Aiden, in the terrifying inevitability of his decision.

But I couldn’t stop shaking, a violent tremor that ran through my entire body. I grabbed Aiden’s wrist, my fingers digging into the fabric of his bloodstained onesie, forcing him to turn toward me. My breath came in quick, uneven bursts, a desperate plea forming on my lips.

“There has to be another way,” I begged, my voice cracking with unshed tears. “There has to be – Aiden, you don’t have to do this – please…”

Aiden smiled, a small, tired smile that held none of his usual reckless charm, but was filled with something profound, something I didn’t fully understand. Something certain, resolute, and utterly selfless.

“The world has been waiting to see the sun rise again, Delia,” he murmured, his gaze gentle, filled with a quiet determination.

I felt the weight of his words pressing into my ribs, stealing the air from my lungs.

Lumina stepped forward, her small hands gripping Nutmeg so tightly her knuckles were white. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was small and choked with tears.

“Aiden…”

He crouched slightly, placing a hand on her head, ruffling her hair softly.

“You’re gonna keep building things, right, Lumina?” he asked, his voice lighter now, a teasing but infinitely gentle tone. “Gonna make the world even brighter?”

Lumina sniffled, her small body trembling, but she nodded fiercely, tears streaming down her face.

Aiden turned to me, his gaze searching mine.

“And you?”

I swallowed hard, my throat burning with unspeakable grief.

“I don’t want you to go,” I choked out, the words a raw, broken admission of the bond we had forged.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head, a hint of his old mischievous spirit flickering in his eyes. “That’s not what I asked.”

I exhaled sharply, forcing my voice not to completely break, drawing on a strength I didn’t know I possessed.

“I’ll keep going.”

Aiden’s smile widened, a genuine, radiant smile that reached his eyes.

“Good. Science needs stubborn people who refuse to give up.”

Then – he turned his gaze back to the swirling crimson sky, the unnatural storm his final canvas.

“The same sky I wanted to reach when I was a kid,” he whispered, a wistful longing in his voice. “With the rocket I built out of scraps. Before all of this…before I even knew.”

Something in Volkov shifted then, a subtle tremor in his rigid posture. His hollow laughter died in his throat. His cold, calculating expression flickered, replaced by a fleeting glimpse of something… human. Then – his eyes widened, a dawning horror spreading across his face. He saw it. Not the failed experiment he had dismissed. Not the disposable clone he had ignored. For the first time, perhaps the only time – he saw his son.

But it was too late.

With a final, resolute breath, Aiden stepped into the massive hamster ball. The engines roared to life, a powerful, defiant sound that drowned out the howling wind. The unnatural storm screamed above us, red lightning cracking violently across the sky in a final, furious display.

Then—he launched.

The hamster ball shot forward with impossible speed, defying gravity, tearing through the storm’s thick, oppressive atmosphere. The swirling crimson clouds shuddered, cracking apart like a broken mirror – the unnatural darkness breaking down under the sheer force of Aiden’s improbable flight.

The sky shifted. Flickering. Changing. The sun—slowly, impossibly—began to take form. And as the golden light washed over the world, I felt the warmth where Aiden had just been.

He had become the sunrise itself.