He climbs the launch gantry with a steady, almost reverent pace, each rung vibrating beneath his gloved hands. The vehicle towers above him like a silver cathedral, all pipes, frost, and warning lights, and he feels no dragon’s breath, only the cold scent of fuel and metal. Below, the city flickers through the morning haze, impossibly ordinary and yet suddenly sacred. He no longer searches for a portal, because he knows this is one: not into fantasy, but into the real, hard heavens.

Inside the capsule, the world narrows to straps, screens, and the soft chatter of people doing work that matters. His old kingdom of invented wonders lingers at the edge of thought, but it can no longer command him. The countdown begins, and the sound is not prophecy but engineering, a human chorus of precision and courage. When the engines ignite, he feels the old delusion fall away at last, and the future becomes a roar he is finally brave enough to answer.