Above, the purple sky waited. The comms crackled: "Leo? You're ascending early. Report."
Ten. Seven. Nine. The numbers had become his mantra, his heartbeat, his religion.
"Descension Control to Leo," crackled the comms. "Final check. Bio-signs?" ten789
He reached for it.
Then he saw it: a single crystal, no larger than his thumb, floating in the exact center of the space. It was transparent, almost invisible, but it hummed at a pitch that made his joints ache. Above, the purple sky waited
Not nine minutes. Seven seconds.
"Remember the objective: retrieve one intact singing glass fragment and ascend. No deviations. The pressure at depth will fog your cognitive clarity inside thirty seconds. You will feel euphoric. You will want to stay. That’s the crystal singing to your nervous system. Ignore it." Report
Ten seconds to the first ledge. Seven minutes to the surface. Nine years until he could forgive himself.
"Oxygen reserve?"