And the world kept turning
He was lying on his back looking at the sky. Grey clouds drifted somewhere beyond the horizon, their edges murky and pulsing in time with the blue blood that flowed away from him. He could feel the snow on his neck, caught by the collar of his jacket as he fell, powerless, to the ground covered with a thin layer of white. The snow had already begun to melt, sticking his silver hair into strands and sending almost imperceptible blue waves across his exosuit. The warmth was leaving him.
One by one he turned off the danger alerts, turned off the beacon. Turned off the comms. The red spots of warnings in front of his eyes disappeared, grayness flooded his entire field of vision. Slowly he took his hand away from his pierced side, letting it fall beside him. The bleeding was easing.
Something small and cold touched his cheek. He closed his eyes for a second and didn't open them for a minute.
Two minutes.
Then he looked up.
Snowflakes were slowly falling from the sky.
There was no one around. Just the sky, the snow, and him, soon to be just as cold. It did not bother him.
Snowflakes had already stuck to his eyelashes, small drops were running down his face, tangled in the fur on his jacket. He couldn't see it, but the snow beneath him had turned blue. Warm. Cerulean streaks widened, penetrating deeper into the ground, small rivers stubbornly making their way between the transparent crystals. Running away from him.
A crack passed through his face with a quiet crunch. It didn't hurt anymore - his whole body was numb, unable to sustain life any longer. He accepted it, lazily watching the clouds as they began to blur. Something other than melt water ran down his cheeks.
He was alone
He didn't care.
