Sheyan sighed and slowly eased his foot off the accelerator because it was meaningless to tread on it anymore.
The faint sound coming out of the brand-new ion thruster engines could only be described as an old man's dying cough. Sheyan knew that it was no use trying any harder to pump fuel into them.
The problem was not in the fuel. The fuel tank was full when he departed, and it was still more than half full currently.
The poisonous corrosive gas emitted by the death zone had quietly eroded the Vulture's engines. It had made multiple holes in the cores of the engines where precision was most required, lowering the power output again and again, until the power output eventually became a joke.
"No time to waste," Sheyan muttered to himself.
