First light. The Sun looms ahead—dying, red, silent. I’m Capa, the physicist, the one who must arm the bomb. Seven years ago, Icarus I vanished. Now, we’ve found it. A distress signal, faint but real. Captain Kaneda agrees to intercept. Mace argues it’s a trap. But we need another payload. We change course.

Trey miscalculates the Mercury flyby. The shields fail. Solar flares scar the reflective panels. We lose comms, lose oxygen. Kaneda dies repairing them. Now, we dock with Icarus I—only to find it a tomb. Systems sabotaged. Crew burned to skeletons. And then—explosion. The ships tear apart. Harvey dies jumping back. Searle stays behind.

We return. Five left. But Corazon runs the numbers: oxygen for four. We vote to kill Trey. But he’s already gone—hanged in the navigation bay. Relief. Then—warning. Five still aboard.

I find him. Pinbacker. Alive. Burned. Mad. He whispers, 'God is in the Sun.' He kills Corazon. Floods the mainframes. Mace dies resetting them. Now, it’s me. The bomb. The Sun. And him.

He chokes me in the airlock. Cassie pulls me back. We fall. The ship tears apart. I deploy the payload. Board the bomb. He follows. We fight on the edge of fire. She saves me. I ignite it.

And the Sun… stops. Waits. I reach out. Touch it.

On Earth, my sister hears my final message. The light returns.