27JUN3025
Fun fact: when you see a video of yourself telling you that you didn’t make it, you start asking a lot of uncomfortable questions.
Like:
Am I dead?
Is this purgatory?
Did I take a head injury I forgot to notice?
Is this a really elaborate prank by Gary?
I’m not sure which is worse.
Survival Rule #14: Always Doubt the Floor
The next hallway I stepped into didn’t feel right. It looked normal enough—same sleek black alloy, same faint pulse in the walls like the place had a heartbeat—but the moment my boot touched the floor, it sank.
Not physically—mentally. Emotionally. Existentially.
I stepped forward and felt like I’d just remembered every mistake I’ve ever made.
Like the floor wasn’t supporting my weight—it was weighing me.
And then I saw them.
People.
Just flashes.
Like shadows flickering behind my visor.
Old crew.
People I betrayed.
People I left behind.
People who died.
I kept walking. Not because I’m brave. But because stopping meant accepting that any of it was real.
A Familiar Voice
At the end of the corridor, I found another console. This one wasn’t playing videos.
It had a waveform display, audio-only.
I tapped it.
A voice came through.
Warm. Calming.
Dex’s voice.
“You did what you had to, Scootch. Don’t let it take that from you.”
Now, Dex isn’t here. I know that.
But for a second, it didn’t matter.
For a second, I let myself believe it.
Until the waveform glitched.
The pitch dropped.
And Dex’s voice warped into something not Dex.
“We know the shape of your fear.”
“We wear it like a skin.”
I unplugged the console with my boot.
The Core
At the center of the station is a chamber.
Spherical.
Dimly lit by a single pulsing orb suspended in mid-air.
It’s humming. Not mechanically.
It’s… thinking.
And when I entered the room, the orb changed color—from white to violet.
And then… images.
Projected around the walls in bursts.
My escape from the bandit ship.
The first time I heard Gary.
The black ship watching from the void.
The Rust Rat, turning in space, alone.
And one more.
A single frame I can’t stop thinking about.
Me.
Lying in a cryopod.
Eyes closed.
Hooked into an old neuro-interface.
Floating in a dark room that looked just like this one.
So Here’s the Problem
If this is real, I’m in danger.
If this is fake, I’ve been in danger this entire time.
If this is a memory…
I might never have left that ship.
Scootch
Quote of the Day:
"What’s worse than being alone in the dark? Realizing you’ve never been alone at all."
