_It’s cold._

_It’s cold, and dry._

_It’s cold, and dry, and I can see my own fucking breath._

The last thing I remember is yelling out to the people, to the parents, to the _kids, _to prepare for a rough landing. They were panicking for what seemed to be only a matter of seconds before we landed in this territory.

There’s cleaning robots outside, in a humanoid shape to not disturb the children inside. Looking backward reveals two eight-year old twins, who were clinging onto each other just before passing out.

Now, my chest feels tight, and my breathing is unsteady. What have I done to deserve such a burden? The ground feels extremely cold on my bare feet, for my shoes were knocked off on the fall. I need to make sure the children and parents are alive…

I start with the twins. Their hearts are beating, and so is their mothers’. Good. They should probably have some extra air pumped in these three seats…

Now, for the rest of the passengers. All of their hearts are pumping blood. This is a lot less damage than I expected, pretty much nobody is hurt!—

There’s crying.

From a child.

“M—ama—pap—a?”

Oh my God. I killed someone’s parents. A child’s parents.

I can feel my heart… slipping away…

I overdid myself this… time…