It's Barry who commits suicide first.
They don't think about it that way then, not yet. It's early in the Loop Five, and all the years so far had been filled with their frantic rush to try and find out what on earth happened to them, what on earth happened to the whole universe.
That day Barry is out of the ship on early reconnaissance, a familiar step in what is slowly becoming their routine – arrive on the new planet, gather information, wait for the Light and see where it lands, go, search, find, run.
Except during the previous loop they found the Light and it didn't change a single thing.
The people on that planet had been so nice, so curious about the travelers, so eager to share their food, their homes. Barry and others made so many friends, shared so many nights filled with laughter and stories. They did everything in their power to find the Light, to give this planet a fighting chance against the Hunger, and they did, and they were so relieved.
Their year passed quickly and one afternoon the skies had turned an impossible shade of black tinted with sentient malice, and they knew they had to go, but they hoped, they hoped…
Barry stood by the railing when they took flight, frozen with terror at the sight of the innocent planet destroyed so ruthlessly, still not fully comprehending the enemy they had to face year after year. And right when they were leaving that dimension and his vision began to blur, he saw one enormous tendril of pure darkness fall on the city that had been their home. Destroying it instantly.
And then his vision cleared and he was back on the deck of the Starblaster, fifth year in a row, and it didn't matter what happened the previous year because they had to do it all over again.
Gather information. Wait for the Light. Search. Run.
Run with the Light of Creation from unimaginable Hunger, in hopes that it will stop it from destroying the entire universe.
And then do it again.
(don't think about the burning worlds you left behind)
The fifth planet they land on seems devoid of any higher forms of life, which is a small comfort. The scouting party is in the forest – well, they chooseto call it a forest, except the plants don't have anything to do with trees except for being tall. Their shape is strange and their color is something they have no word for, and it sparks a heated discussion about names they could use, a discussion that continues into the forest itself. They walk around, twins shouting out more and more bizarre words, Magnus goading them just for the hell of it and Lucretia shooting down each and every idea with a deadpan expression. Barry minds his own business, giving only a token input, quieter than usual since they came to this planet (on his tongue he can still taste the pie that he ate on the day of their departure)
He's collecting environmental data in one moment, lost in thoughts, and in the next one he's down on the ground, knocked off his feet by the big, growling thing that charges at him again.
There are shouts all around him, his friends rushing to his rescue as the beast raises its claw, and Barry… Barry could have ducked.
But he can feel the taste of that damn pie, and the lady that made it reminded him of his mother when she smiled, and now they were both lost to the force he can't can't do anything about, and it feels like his heart aches constantly these days, and Barry is tired, so tired…
He wakes up on the deck of the Starblaster one year later (one second later)
It is the Loop Six and the novelty of being reconstructed time and again is slowly wearing off. Some people stretch, some exchange weary smiles like coworkers greeting each other in the office in the morning, some go straight to the window to see what they are dealing with this year.
Magnus slaps Barry's shoulder, smiling sheepishly.
"Good to see you again, bud. My fault, was kinda clumsy back there. Won't happen again."
"Eh, for my money Barold had right nice nap while the rest of us busted our asses off" Taako scoffed, his eyes glued to the view outside as if he was already coming up with strategies and plans "And we didn't even find that stinkin' Light!" he throws his hands in the air with a exasperation that might be theatrical, but is still very much sincere.
And Barry knows what happens to a planet when they don't find the Light, and is suddenly very grateful that he didn't have to spend any time getting to know it at all.
Taako is the first suicide they are forced to acknowledge.
It is the Loop Nineteen and they arrive on a planet that looks as if the Hunger has already been there. Its sun is so far that the days are only barely different from the nights, and both are filled with shadows and sounds they don't understand. There are things shuffling in the darkness, things they can never really see, but whose howls they can hear oh so well. There are flashes of eyes sometimes, or fangs, or something else, something they silently decide not to talk about.
But they search for the Light, because that is their job. Because that is what they are here for.
And as dangerous as it is, they have to leave their ship sometimes. They take every possible precaution. They are always armed. Always careful.
But not careful enough.
There is a growl, and then there is a gasp, and when they turn Lup is just gone.
And then she screams.
They run around frantically looking for her, calling her name over and over again as she screams and screams and screams, her voice rebounding from the ruins around them splitting and echoing in all directions at once and they can't find her they can't find her. They cast spells until they sway with exhaustion and run around in darkness until their legs physically can't carry them anymore.
She screams for a long time, that day.
Later, Taako sits with his head in his hands, his eyes open but not seeing anything, not really. Lucretia and Barry are on each side of him, holding him in silence, offering support in the only way they know how, the only way they can with Lup's screams still echoing in their ears. And when the evening gives way to the night, Taako's eyes sharpen, his back straightens.
"This cycle sucks. I'm out."
He stands up, shaking off his friends' hands, and nods to Davenport and the rest on his way out.
Nobody tries to stop him.
They see the flash of his spell in the distance, and then nothing.
Lucretia longs for it during her lonely year.
She knows she can't. She knows their whole survival depends solely on her, that there must be at least one person flying from the storm for it to become seven of them again upon landing. And there is nothing she won't do for her friends, her family. If it means countless sleepless nights with a gun right underneath her pillow, listening to the footsteps outside her door, so be it. If it means stealing and smuggling for spare parts and then learning how to repair the ship all on her own, she's ready. If it means staring for long, long hours at the bottle of pills in Merle's med bay – well. She figures she has the right to.
The year goes on, excruciatingly slow. She runs, then fights, then runs some more. She gets used to insomnia and constant paranoia. She longs.
She throws away the bottle. Doesn't dare keep it within reach.
And then the year ends and she makes it. She flies, she takes her family out and leaves this goddamned world to hunger and flames.
The planet is small and poor, and the nations living there had just ended their World War. It was long and bloody and terrifying, and reaching peace was so hard, but they did it. They agreed to countless grueling peace talks, they signed hard-won treaties and made promises they really, truly intended to keep. When the IPRE crew arrives, the world just begins rebuilding, countries aiding each other as much as they can, trying their damnest to learn from their ancestors' mistakes, vowing to never allow such a mindless destruction to happen again.
There are children on this planet, masses of them. Orphaned lost, scared, with hunted eyes and empty bellies. The governments of the world are trying to help them, to give them shelters, to find them families, but the funds are stretched so very thin and it's always too little, too late.
Magnus all but throws himself into helping them. He finds volunteers, arranges trips and football matches to fill their minds, petitions for more governmental aid to fill their bellies. And people love him. During this one, short year he manages to change the lives of so many, both children and adults alike. He makes them believe, really believe in their new peace, and in the world they can build on the ruins of war.
But they don't find the Light this year.
They ask everybody they come across, look for it everywhere they go, and come up with nothing. Dozens of expeditions and countless sleepless nights. Magnus gets desperate by the end, spends each waking moment between taking care of people and frantically searching, because it has to be somewhere, it has to be somewhere-
It is two days before the end of the world, when he decides he can't bear to see his children die.
His eyes are completely unreadable when he leaves the ship with a "See you later", and doesn't come back.
Gather information. Wait for the Light. Search. Run.
Die.
Merle trips and falls down a cliff, breaking his neck before anybody can do anything. Davenport attempts to talk to the clan leader who doesn't take well to the outsiders and before they know it is run through with a spear. Taako prickles his finger on a strange, thorny bush and trashes in fever for two months before he stops breathing.
And as morbid as it is, they get used to it. They tease and joke and wear indifference like a cloak, like an armor.
-and then Lup and Barry made a bet who can slide down that iceberg faster, the morons- well that fruit looked totally delicious how could I have known that- only an idiot would trip and fall from the fucking ship, how did you even- ten bucks says this thing will bite his head off in ten seco… well that was fast-
Jokes and indifference, their only way to carry on, their only way to see this mission through. It would be incomprehensible for outsiders, but that is just the thing – there are no outsiders, there's just seven of them, flying tirelessly from the storm. And they hold each other tightly, spend nights drinking and laughing, look at strangely colored skies and name the stars that will be gone in a few months. They throw themselves into research and exploration, just to keep themselves busy, just to give each other hope. And they love each other, fiercely so, even stronger for the fact that there is nobody else in the whole multiverse they could possibly love.
And they don't talk about the suicides. Because there is not a one person among them who could provide any kind of guidance, who could give one good advice. Because they all need it, sometimes.
Sometimes, Davenport meets someone who looks too much like his baby brother and he can't look them in the eyes. Sometimes, Merle is so flooded with memories he can't find the strength to leave his bed for weeks, and in the end decides there's no use in forcing himself.
And then they come back, seven of them on the deck of the ship, young and unchanged. And the next cycle begins.
Loop Ninety Nine.
The last one, if only they get this right.
They split the Light into seven parts and hide it away from the Hunger. They hold their breaths as the year passes. And the year passes, right into the next one, and after ninety nine years of flight, they can finally stay.
Except. It's not the happy ending they've dreamed of. Each war that breaks out in order to obtain the Artifacts, each betrayal and murder committed in their name, it is a blood on their hands, a sacrifice they made for the greater good.
One they had no right to make.
One they had to make.
They don't leave their ship much these days, not during the year of waiting and not afterwards. Long gone are the days when they eagerly mingled with people on the new planets, making friends, sharing stories and laughter. Now they spend their time on the ship, up in the sky, seven lonely gods cursed for their arrogance.
They saved the world. They won.
They are tired.
The guilt is destroying them, bit by bit. Taako tastes ash in his mouth, Magnus looks into the future but and sees nothing but darkness, Merle wants to dance and his smile is cracked, his eyes are haunted.
They are drinking sombelry on the outside deck one night, and it is Davenport, their dear captain, who voices it first.
"We won" he ignores the snorts, self-depreciating toasts, thin-lipped smiles, "The world is safe from Hunger. And that means… we are not needed… anymore…"
And the crew looks up at the sky, at the stars so very different from the ones home, and their silence is thoughtful.
And that is when Lucretia's heart shatters.
That is when she makes her decision.
They flew. They searched for the Light. They ran from Hunger. They died.
And they forgot.
It's supposed to be only temporary, long enough for her to untangle this mess, to gather the Artifacts so that they won't cause any more destruction, to use them to block out the Hunger for good. To save this goddamned world, to save her family.
But it doesn't work.
Ten years pass on a fruitless search, and then she loses another twenty years of her life in a game of bloody cards, and somehow all she can think in that moment is well, that's twenty years less I'll have to worry about it all and then she tries very hard not to think about that bottle of pills and all the other things it could be replaced with.
And then Taako, Magnus and Merle are back with her again, except not fully, not in the way it really matters. And it hurts, hurts like nothing had ever hurt before, but it's worth it. Because Taako might still be cold towards the world, and Magnus might still be reckless with his life, and Merle might still smile a little stiffly, but they are alive and they are healing. With each day they spend on this new planet, with each new person they meet, with each new person they help, they learn to love this world, bit by bit.
And with each smile that is not directed at her, with each inside joke she doesn't understand anymore, with each lonely evening and red-eyed morning, her heart shatters a little bit more. Bit by bit.
But she grits her teeth, doubles her efforts. Searches, pushes, fights.
And she makes it.
Not in the way she planned, but she makes it. They inspire the world, they race into the storm, together, she and her family making their last grand stand against the enemy that hunted them for so long. And then it is over, truly over, and there are tears and hugs, but also unsure silences and bitter looks. Forgiveness and blame blend together during countless late night talks.
But most of all there is relief, unbelievable relief, and a sense of freedom they forgot existed. That Lucretia forgot existed.
And then there is wedding, and Barry and Lup move on, Taako, Merle and Magnus gather people around them and just help, and Davenport sends them letters and postcards from all around this wonderful, incredible world.
And Lucretia looks at them, at the lives they've managed to build in spite of everything, and smiles.
And when she finally goes, it is with a grateful relief, that this time? This time she won't wake up on the deck of the ship.
This time she gets to rest.