two
For every beginning must come to an end; that is the way of the universe. Entropy is the true constant.
2. There’s a shimmer in the air, and a body coalesces on the transporter pad. Once it is fully materialized, it falls to the ground, lifeless. Several bones stick out of place, puncturing skin, and the head lolls on the ground, neck snapped.
“Fuck, Bones, no,” Jim says, voice choked and painful like someone’s just squeezed all the air from his lungs. Leonard McCoy is dead.
8. There’s a shimmer in the air, and a body coalesces on the transporter pad, but it’s just that: a body. Its skin has gone deathly pale, and the life in it is long since frozen out.
“Fuck, Bones, no,” Jim says, voice choked and painful like someone’s just squeezed all the air from his lungs. Leonard McCoy is dead.
15. There’s a shimmer in the air, and a body coalesces on the transporter pad. Once it is fully materialized, it falls to the ground, lifeless. A medical team converges on it, takes readings and forces air into its lungs, breath into its chest, but nothing works.
“Fuck, Bones, no,” Jim says, voice choked and painful like someone’s just squeezed all the air from his lungs. Leonard McCoy is dead.
19. There is no body, no shimmer. Jim exhales, sharp and painful, as he realizes it’s pointless to keep looking. Sensors don’t register any life signs, as they’ve stubbornly refused to for the past four days, and the surface of the planet is much too dangerous to send a search party. For all intents and purposes, Leonard McCoy silent or still breathing is dead.
Ω. (If you would like a cosmic do-over, return to the beginning.)