My people can tell quakes before they occur. I managed to warn people, everyone got out of the building, but the last two, one a woman with white fur, and one a human wearing red, yellow, and black braces I had to physically shove out of the door just as the shaking began and the ceiling collapsed. I'm trapped here in the rubble, I can't feel my legs, but I saved those people, so, no matter what happens to me, I'm glad all those people got out. -- Anon Guest
Weight. Pain. It became my world. Time dragged through every second of it. There was not enough air to scream. Not enough comprehension to cry.
All souls saved but one. Nearly made it.
On the other hand, I think I saved some Deathworlders. They can rescue so many others. Save so many other lives. A stone thrown in a pond makes ripples, and the effect spreads far. My pain and certain death would set in motion hundreds, if not thousands, of lives effected by that one Deathworlder. Good lives made better. Bad lives made shorter, if all was fair in the universe. I had to believe in that. This much pain had to be balanced by that much good. Otherwise, what was the point?
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