The silhouette of Lucas burned inside the asteroid.
Blue-white light spiderwebbed through every crack Noah had made, spreading through the mineral composition of the rock like something being switched on from the inside. The asteroid was half a mile across and within four seconds of Lucas landing in it, the entire mass was lit up. Not glowing. Lit, the way a lantern was lit, light pressing outward from the inside through every seam and fracture.
Kelvin's timer read nine minutes forty-two seconds.
For context, the world record for a human holding their breath under stress conditions was around six minutes. Standard military dive training pushed exceptional candidates to eight. Both of those numbers assumed the person was doing nothing except not breathing.
Nine minutes forty-two seconds. Both of them still moving.
Kelvin watched the asteroid and said nothing for once.
