06JUN3025

You ever hit a point in life where you realize,

“Huh. I’m either unkillable or already dead and no one told me.”

That’s where I’m at.

The Rust Rat and I are still limping through whatever pocket dimension, psychic echo, cursed corridor of the damned I’ve fallen into. Nothing works the way it’s supposed to. Time’s a joke. Gary’s started quoting poetry, which I’m 90% sure he’s making up just to screw with me.

And yet… I’m still here.

Survival Rule #11: Laugh Loud Enough and the Abyss Might Back Off

After last week’s hallway warp, creepy audio logs, and shadow doppelgängers, I spent a solid eight hours just sitting in the galley trying to decide if I should scream, sleep, or start labeling things with post-it notes.

I chose option D:

Merchandising.

Hear me out.

If the universe is going to throw existential horror at me, the least I can do is profit from it. So I’ve started sketching out product ideas for the inevitable “I Survived the Rust Rat” brand.

Here’s what I’ve got so far:

• Shirt: “Rust Rat Crew – Haunted, Broke, and Still Kicking”

• Patch: A cartoon ship on fire with the words “This Is Fine (Probably)”

• Mug: “Don’t Talk to Me Until I’ve Screamed into the Void”

• Sticker Set: Includes “Certified Hull Breach Survivor,” “Void-Touched But Cute,” and “Gary Was Right.”

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Scootch, that’s ridiculous. You’re hallucinating brand deals.”

To which I say: Yes. Yes I am.
But you try spending weeks alone on a possibly sentient ship, pursued by unknowable horrors, and not start building a marketing strategy.

A Quiet Moment

There was a brief second today—just a moment—when everything stopped.

No flickering lights. No hums. No whispers. Just… silence.

I stood in the corridor, staring out the one viewport that hasn’t iced over, and watched the stars. And for that moment, I forgot about black ships, smiling shadows, and recursive nightmare hallways.

It was quiet. Peaceful. Almost beautiful.

Which of course meant it was immediately ruined by the comms crackling to life and whispering,

“We see your light.”

Because apparently I’m not allowed to have nice things.

Final Thoughts

Is it possible I’m unraveling? Absolutely.
Am I worried about it? Not really.
Because if madness is the ticket price for staying alive out here, I’m getting my credits’ worth.

And if I do make it back to civilization?
You better believe I’m selling “Rust Rat Survival Kits” out of my airlock.

• Scootch

Quote of the Day:
"Delusions are just entrepreneurship waiting for paperwork."