No graceful floating. No smooth movements. Just Ash kicking off broken chunks of metal with all his strength, his boots sparking with weak bursts of electricity to push him forward.
Behind him, Ken dangled like a fish on a line, tied to Ash by twenty meters of reinforced cable.
"Fucking—LEFT! Your other left, dumbass!" Ken's voice cracked through the comms.
Ash gritted his teeth and twisted midair, his fingers scraping against the side of a drifting cargo container. The impact sent a jolt of pain through his already sore shoulder. He barely managed to hook one arm around a broken pipe before the rope around his waist went taut, yanking Ken after him.
Ken crashed into the container with a loud "OOF!" that echoed through Ash's helmet.
"This sucks," Ken groaned, rubbing his ribs. "This sucks so fucking much."
Ash checked the oxygen levels on his wrist display. Still good. "Told you to stay on the transport."
"Yeah, and miss all this fun?" Ken gestured wildly at the endless void around them. "No thanks."
Ash didn't answer. He was too busy staring at the Ridge in the distance.
The Tarnfield Ridge wasn't a place. Not really.
It was more like a wound in space itself—a massive, twisting labyrinth of broken planet chunks and floating ruins, so big it made the nearby stars look tiny. Light bent weirdly around its edges, like the Ridge was sucking in the very fabric of reality.
From here, Ash could see the districts everyone talked about The Southern District was pure hell. A maze of shattered rock and screaming winds that never stopped. The Northern Reach was Quiet. Too quiet. The kind of place where things liked to nest undisturbed.
The Eastern Tracts was where they were headed. Where the blacksmith supposedly set up shop. "Safer" was a strong word. "Less immediately lethal" fit better. Then came the Western Maw, No one talked about the Maw. No one came back from it.
Ken whistled low in Ash's ear. "Home sweet hell, huh?"
Ash didn't answer. His stomach twisted just looking at it.
He pushed off the cargo container, electricity flaring weakly around his boots. The burst sent him spinning slightly, and he had to throw out his arms to stabilize himself. Behind him, Ken cursed as the rope yanked him along.
"Could you at least warn me before you do that?" Ken grumbled.
"Would it help?"
"No, but it'd be polite."
Ash ignored him, focusing on the next piece of debris—a chunk of broken metal plating from some old ship. He reached for it, his fingers brushing the edge—
—and missed.
For one terrifying second, he floated untethered, his momentum carrying him past it. His heart jackhammered in his chest as he flailed, electricity sparking wildly at his feet.
Then Ken's hand clamped onto his ankle, yanking him back hard enough to make his knee pop.
"Got you," Ken said, grinning through his helmet.
Ash exhaled sharply. "Thanks."
"Yeah, yeah. You owe me a drink later."
They pushed on, jumping from wreck to wreck, each movement a gamble. Ash's muscles burned from the strain, his breath fogging up his helmet slightly.
They were almost near the Eastern Tracts when Ash saw it. Actually, he saw nothing. Just empty space. A gap so wide it made Ash's stomach twist.
Ken peered over the edge, his grip tightening on the rope around his waist. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
"We jump," Ash said.
Ken's head snapped up. "We what?"
Ash crouched low, testing his balance on the unstable ground beneath them. "We jump."
Ken stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "That's like some 30 or 40 fucking mile, Ash."
"Closer."
"Still suicide!"
Ash adjusted the rope between them, making sure the knots were tight. His fingers moved automatically, even as his pulse hammered in his throat. He'd done stupider things. Probably.
Ken grabbed his arm. "Dude. Seriously. Is there any other way?"
Ash looked at him. Then at the void. Then back at Ken.
Ken groaned. "Fuck me." He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped both hands around the rope. "If I die, I'm haunting your ass forever."
Ash didn't answer. He just bent his knees, braced—
—and jumped.
Electricity exploded from his boots in a blinding blue-white burst. The force of it sent them rocketing forward so fast Ken's scream cut off into staticky silence over the comms.
For three terrifying heartbeats, there was nothing but speed and the crushing fear that he'd miscalculated. That they'd miss. That they'd keep flying forever until their oxygen ran out and their bodies froze in the endless dark.
Then—
CRASH.