The last king of Ishel’s hand hovered over the control panel for an extra, tension-filled moment. His lips moved in what might have been a prayer of hope or tremor of fear. There was no time left for a change of heart and the old king knew the path he walked was the only one left for him. Some things could not be undone.
“This is right,” he murmured in a tone that sounded pleading rather than convinced. “This is good.”
His eyes closed tight and his teeth clenched when his gnarled, age-spotted fingers pressed the button below them. Brilliant, retina-searing light flared beyond the control room’s single window. If his eyes had been open, the king would have been blinded. He kept them squeezed shut through the glare...
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