Chapter 55: The Crash
Nioh scrambled to regain his focus as pain shot through his body like a jagged blade. His wounds had reopened, and the white bandages wrapped around him were now soaked in crimson.
"You really should see an astronomer about your luck," a familiar voice muttered dryly. "Because why are you always so banged up?"
Through the haze of pain, Nioh recognized Ekoh’s voice. Even now, in the aftermath of a shipwreck, the bastard still had time for sarcasm.
"I really don’t have time for your commentary at the moment," Nioh replied through gritted teeth, using the fractured remains of the ship’s walls for support as he forced himself upright.
Pain tolerance had always been one of his strongest traits. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel pain—it was that he had long learned to endure it.
Around him, groans and muffled curses filled the air as the other passengers began regaining consciousness. But Nioh’s focus wasn’t on them. He turned his gaze toward the cockpit.
If his calculations were right, they had crashed deep in the heart of the Expanse. A desolate and near-impossible terrain to navigate without experience. And there was only one person on this ship who had that kind of knowledge.
Kyle.
Pushing through his own injuries, Nioh forced open the damaged cockpit door. Smoke curled in thick tendrils, and broken glass crunched under his boots. The sight inside made his stomach clench.
Kyle lay slumped against the pilot’s seat, his breathing shallow. But the safety airbags had deployed just in time, shielding him from the worst of the impact.
Nioh shook him firmly. "Wake up! Kyle, wake up!" His voice was sharp with urgency.