Nothing. Just a static hum. Too deep for the signal to get through.

—Shit.

He remembers how he got here: routine exploration. A misstep. His left foot hanging over the void. Then the fall. Pain. Darkness. End of story.

It’s not the first time he’s died. But this is by far the most ridiculous.

There’s no way out. No rescue. The only thing he can do is wait for the cold to shut him down like a defective machine. And when that happens, the base will activate his next copy. Mickey8 will wake up in the regeneration tank with almost all his memories intact and continue the mission.

An idea hits him like a punch to the gut.

When was the last time he uploaded his memory?

Weeks ago. Weeks.

Mickey8 won’t know anything about what he has done in all that time. He won’t remember the conversations with Nasha or the little tricks he learned to cheat the rationing system. He will be him… but incomplete.

Fear seeps into his chest like poison. He has never questioned his role as an Expendable before. It was simple: he died, another took his place. But now, on the brink of freezing to death, he realizes that the new one won’t really be him. He’ll be a broken, fragmented version.