Final departure, naturally
He packed no patience and selected maximum thrust.
Before dawn
Launch field
Kim reached the empty launch field before dawn, still angry about an argument nobody else remembered. He chose the smallest rocket with the loudest engine, climbed aboard without a helmet, and ordered the horizon to move.
Cloud lane
The rocket obeyed, clearing the ridge while Kim continued arguing with the wind.
Still arguing
No countdown was recorded. The flight followed five practical decisions, each made louder than the last and none checked against weather, gravity, or available fuel.
Park sideways beside the painted line.
Pick the rocket with the reddest nose.
Ignore the ladder. Climb by indignation.
Point upward and complain until fire appears.
Leave one scorched bootprint and no forwarding address.
Inside the cabin, every habit became procedure. Kim brought exactly three useful skills, all perfectly suited to a journey with no scheduled return.
Rejects every gauge reading as insufficiently ambitious.
Corrects the autopilot before it finishes speaking.
Stares down clouds until they move aside.
The launch crew watched the smoke trail bend east, then wrote down what could still be confirmed. Their notes remain brief because the windows shook whenever Kim changed his mind.
One red rocket, recently shouted at.
Hotter than the exhaust.
Higher whenever questioned.
Whichever horizon apologizes first.
Not discussed on the pad.
$KIMROCKET
Keep the sky out of his way.