March 7th poked the edge of Ethan's boot with her toe.
"So. Magic Coin Guy."
Ethan cracked one eye open. "You're not letting this go, are you?"
"Nope," March said, grinning like a cat who found a new toy. "Seriously—what's the deal? Are you, like, blessed by a Space God of Gambling? Or just really bad at making decisions?"
Ethan flipped the coin lazily across his knuckles, its surface catching the station's broken light with each pass.
"Wouldn't you like to know," he said, voice dry.
March plopped down cross-legged in front of him. "Yes. That's why I asked."
Ethan huffed a soft laugh. The tension in his shoulders eased—for a moment.
"Fine," he said, palming the coin again. "I flip it when I'm stuck. Helps clear the noise in my head."
He didn't mention the real trick:When he absolutely had to—when life and death hung in the balance—he rigged it.
March leaned in, suspicious. "Suuure. And what if it says to do something really dumb?"
Ethan smiled crookedly. "Then I cheat."
March barked a laugh, startling even Dan Heng.
"Man," she said, wiping her eyes, "you're gonna fit right in with us."
Dan Heng muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "That's what I'm afraid of."
Before Ethan could answer, a low rumble shook the walls.
The overhead lights flickered. Dust rained from the cracked ceiling panels.
Then—Screams.
Not human ones.
Voidrangers.
March scrambled to her feet, loading her bow with trembling fingers. "Oh no. Oh no no no—"
Dan Heng's spear snapped into a ready position. He threw Ethan a hard look. "Can you fight?"
Ethan forced himself upright, legs aching, lungs still burning from before.He spun the coin once—felt the coin flare warmly in his palm—and nodded.
"I'll manage."
The door behind the barricade exploded inward, showering them with debris.
Through the settling dust, Ethan saw twisted figures surging forward: armored things with gleaming voidsteel blades, their eyes burning violet.
March fired first—a spray of energy arrows lighting up the dark.
Dan Heng darted in next, a blur of precision, his spear cutting down two before they could reach.
Ethan gritted his teeth.
Focus.
The coin pulsed once—then he lunged forward, slamming his fist into the nearest Voidranger's chest.
BOOM.
A solar explosion blossomed from the impact, sending the creature flying backward in a spray of molten fragments.Heat singed the air; Ethan stumbled, cracks of golden light racing up his forearm.
March whooped. "Did you see that?! You're a walking fireball!"
"Not—" Ethan gasped, staggering a step, "—by choice!"
More Voidrangers swarmed through the breach.
Dan Heng shouted, "Move! We have to reach the Express!"
March grabbed Ethan's sleeve, dragging him after her.
They sprinted down the collapsing hallway, broken glass and twisted metal flashing past.Behind them, the Voidrangers shrieked like a tide of nightmares.
Ethan clutched the coin in his sweating hand.
Rig it or not—Flip or not—The only way out was forward.
The first wave of Voidrangers fell—but more kept coming, like the tide refusing to retreat.
Ethan's muscles screamed as he stumbled after March and Dan Heng. His skin felt too tight, golden cracks flickering faintly along his arms. The coin in his hand buzzed with restless energy, as if urging him to do something—anything.
He had no idea how.
March fired a glowing arrow over her shoulder. "Heads up, Glowy! They're flanking left!"
Ethan spun—and nearly ate a voidblade to the face.
At the last second, a WHUMP of blunt force sent the attacker sprawling.
Stelle stood there, grinning like she'd just hit a home run.
"Guess who found her bat?"
She hefted the weapon—a steel bat with faint cosmic etchings—and gave it a flashy spin over her shoulder. The bat hummed with latent energy, the very air crackling around it.
"Now this," she declared proudly, "is a sport I can win."
Another Voidranger lunged at her.Without hesitation, Stelle sidestepped and cracked the bat into its side, sending it flying into a support pillar with a wet crunch.
March whooped. "Home run, baby!"
Ethan barely dodged another slash aimed for his ribs. His heart hammered in his chest, fear and adrenaline battling for dominance.
He wasn't like them.
Dan Heng moved like a ghost, spear flashing in tight, perfect arcs.March was a hurricane of arrows and gleeful shouting.Stelle was having the time of her life, swinging that bat like she was at the Interastral Final.
And Ethan—
He was surviving.
Barely.
Another Voidranger cornered him against a broken wall. Ethan instinctively lifted his hand, the coin flaring in his grip.
The energy inside him bucked and twisted, begging for release.
Do it, the heat whispered. Burn them all.
Ethan gritted his teeth—and forced it down. Not yet. Not without control.Instead, he ducked low and kicked the creature's knee sideways, making it crumple just long enough for March to finish it off with a headshot.
"Nice assist, Ethan!" she shouted, flashing him a thumbs-up.
Ethan's lungs heaved. Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes.
He wasn't winning.He was reacting.Barely holding on.
Still spinning the coin across his fingers, he muttered under his breath:"Run toward the chaos, right? ...Dad, you owe me for this."
Another rumble shook the ground beneath them.
Dan Heng pointed toward a massive security door at the end of the hall. "The Astral Express is through there. Move!"
March grabbed Ethan's wrist without ceremony. "C'mon, magic boy! Quit brooding, start running!"
They sprinted.
Behind them, the Voidrangers howled, regrouping for another charge.
Ethan risked a glance back—and saw Stelle, her baseball bat glowing brighter with every home-run swing she took.
"You're all invited to the grand opening of Pain Stadium!" she yelled, knocking another Voidranger through a cracked wall.
March laughed breathlessly. "She's gonna make it weird, isn't she?"
Dan Heng, without looking, answered: "Inevitable."
The heavy doors ahead began to grind open, the first glimpse of clean station corridors—and the salvation of the Astral Express—beckoning beyond.
But between them and safety?
More Voidrangers.
Bigger ones.
Armored.
Waiting.
Ethan squeezed the coin once, feeling it sear into his palm like a second heartbeat.
Heads or tails, he thought grimly, we finish this together.