"How can a world like this exist so close to a star and not burn to a cinder?" he murmured. He began to scroll through the external parameters of his ship's sensors, and his blood ran cold.
"The external temperature is off the charts, and the atmospheric pressure is crushing my shields …" He began to grasp the terrifying truth of the Hescos.
"Don't tell me the suits they wore were designed to protect them from exploding in the weak atmosphere of the rest of the universe… But it still doesn't make any sense. If this is their home, how does anyone even stand on the ground? How can they survive all this in the first place?!!"
The pressure was so terrifying that his ship's hull was groaning—a sound he had never heard in deep space.
He couldn't fathom what the early days of the Hescos must have been like. For a race to not only survive but thrive in an environment this hostile required more than mere luck; it required a structural evolution of the body, mind, and soul.
