Daniel suddenly felt a whole lot better, even as Alitma continued to heap insults upon him.
The universe looked bright and rosy, and that left Daniel confused. He had been so sad a moment earlier. Now everything seemed fine.
Daniel mentally proposed two theories on his inexplicable mood change:
Theory One: The wise words of his stalwart companions had helped him transcend his mortal concerns, moving him to a higher plane of consciousness.
Theory Two: Daniel had chugged half the contents of his father’s flask while Alitma had been criticizing his wardrobe.
A very drunk Daniel—who had been half sloshed before the actions described in Theory Two—concluded the two theories weren't mutually exclusive.
In his much more optimistic and much less logical frame of mind, Daniel decided his problems weren't that bad.
He didn't need to overload the cannon; he and his friends could wait Alitma out.
The Onean shield will last for a long time. The food forge, too. And Trak or Rachel-7 will find a solution. Or someone will show up and help us, thought Daniel. Don't need to rush into suicide.
“In fact, I bet you’re still pining away for that heiress brat!” Alitma said.
Daniel’s eyes widened.
“Aaaand I can see I hit a nerve,” Alitma said. “Good. What was her name? Jeskar? Jeskal? I can’t remember, but I’ll call her what everyone else does: whore.”
Yes, Daniel had many reasons to not kill himself and everyone nearby, but his rage made those reasons evaporate.
“Set off the cannon,” Daniel said with an anger he hadn't thought possible.