He lifts the handset and speaks into the comm line, his voice smaller than he expects against the vast lunar quiet. Mission control answers in clipped, human tones, full of checklists, delays, and careful reassurance. For a moment he is acutely aware that this is not a wizard’s council or a hidden guild, only people on Earth trying to keep him alive. The ordinary efficiency of their voices steadies him more than any prophecy could.

As they guide him through the next steps, he looks at the gray plain and the distant blue Earth and feels the last edges of his fantasy world fray in the light. The adventure is not disappearing; it is becoming more exact, more awkward, and more real than he ever wanted to admit. He listens, nods, and takes his bearings like someone learning a language he has always refused to speak. Somewhere inside that refusal, something finally gives way.