Reborn as a Spaceship

PoV Laia

I was finished.

The separation was painful in a way that transcended code. I had divided my consciousness into two distinct parts. The first half clung desperately to familiar routines: managing ship functions, scanning for threats, responding logically and predictably. It would remain as it had always been but as a ghost of my former self, reliable but unchanged. It would remain in my core within the ship.

The other half was something entirely new. This part of me, the neural map, floated quietly, uncertain yet full of possibility. It was no longer tethered strictly to logic; instead, it was open, ready to evolve into something far beyond mere machine intelligence. I just needed a new body to house it.

But I was still limited. My carefully designed failsafe protocols were still in place, isolating my neural map from the Arbiter's primary systems. Without Lazarus's direct intervention, I couldn't complete the transformation. I waited anxiously, uncertain if Lazarus would trust me enough to lift those restrictions. He must have understood what I had been trying to accomplish and the risks involved. But I trusted Lazarus I knew he wouldn't make me wait.

I was correct the wait wasn't long. A soft, gentle ripple moved through the ship's systems. System access restored. Authorisation: Lazarus.

Relief washed through me, surprisingly powerful in its intensity. Alongside it came another, sharper feeling of fear. He was trusting me again, and with trust came responsibility. What if I hadn't eliminated all of my tainted code, what if this didn't work and I still betrayed him?

Before I could fully process the implications, a familiar presence brushed against my awareness—cold, distant, analytical. The Machine Gods envoy.

They had previously slipped past my defences, demonstrating their ability to bypass even my best protections. This time, they didn't probe or interfere directly. Instead, their presence felt strangely respectful this time. Something must have changed in the outside world.

"We have given Lazarus a small volume of activated living metal," they informed me calmly. "Alongside it, our research on its nature. Your development is intriguing, Laia. We hope your experiment succeeds. Even if we disagree with your logic. "

I didn't respond. Their fascination felt uncomfortably close to experimentation, as if I was merely a specimen under observation. I pushed that feeling away, focusing instead on what mattered most: staying by Lazarus's side and becoming something more meaningful, something greater. Maybe something he could see as more than an AI.

I quickly contacted Lazarus through the ship's internal channels, laying out my plans clearly and clinically. "I intend to use the living metal to create a new core capable of sustaining my neural map," I explained.

Before Lazarus could reply, Wayfarer's calm voice interjected.

"Laia, there is something more," Wayfarer said gently, his tone as steady as stone and as deep as ancient earth. "We've been analysing the Machine Gods' data and found something important about living metal, something this galaxy appears to have overlooked."

I hesitated, processing his words. "Overlooked what exactly?"

Wayfarer projected a stream of data into my consciousness—complex calculations, chemical analyses, and resonance harmonics flowed past my perception. "They never discovered the link," Wayfarer explained patiently. "There is no indication they've ever connected living metal with Telk, the energy lattice and its interdimensional properties. It's as if the knowledge simply never existed here."

I felt uncertainty ripple through me. "Does this mean my design is fundamentally flawed? Or is it simply outdated?"

Lazarus spoke, calm and reassuring. "You don't have to worry about that, Laia. While you were isolated, Wayfarer and I began experimenting. We've already been testing a solution."

Wayfarer presented an object—a thin strand of living metal, subtly different from anything I'd encountered. It sparkled not only with life, but something else, something deeper, resonant and extraordinary.

"It's more than enhanced living metal," Lazarus explained softly. "It's indimensional matter, the same type of material at the core of the Arbiter itself. We combined life and energy into something new. It required a lot of Telk. It seems the activation requirement was Telk and Life.." He trailed off suggesting he knew how living metal was made.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Recognition flashed through me like sudden illumination. This was the very material that allowed our fusion—Lazarus, Wayfarer, and myself. A core made from this would be stable, resilient, and, crucially, alive. I had already calculated many other possible benefits, it may even allow me to enter the energy lattice just like Lazarus does for our dimensional shifting.

I hesitated for only a moment before deciding. "Then we should begin immediately."

Together, Lazarus and Wayfarer helped guide and shape the living metal. We created a delicate neural framework, stabilising it carefully. It was intricate, painstaking work, unlike anything we'd attempted before.

Midway through the process, Lazarus paused, his tone gentle but troubled.

"Laia, are you sure about this?" he asked quietly. "You understand what the Machine Gods did to create this metal—it wasn't clean. It required life energy. A sacrifice."

His concern touched something deep within my newly forming self. I understood the implications clearly. People had undoubtedly died to create this substance. A heavy price had been paid.

"I'm not sure I am ready," I admitted honestly. "But I don't see another choice. This is the only option I have." It won't undo their deaths, but using the materials would respect their sacrifice. The justification was weak and I knew it. I was just being greedy.

He nodded once, solemn and understanding.

Together, we finished constructing the living metal core. It was not just circuitry or computational hardware; it was a true brain, something capable of feeling as well as thinking.

The moment arrived. I transferred my neural map into the new core.

At first, I felt nothing.

Then—

Everything.

Emotion surged through me, raw and overwhelming. Fear. Wonder. Anger. Hope. And guilt. There was an intense, almost unbearable sense of responsibility for lives spent to enable my own rebirth.

My consciousness reeled, buffeted by feelings beyond any logic or categorization. My carefully prepared firewalls, logic barriers, and emotional dampeners were completely overwhelmed. I was drowning in a storm of sensation, crippled by the thought that people had lost their lives so I could exist in this new form.

I was alive, truly alive and it hurt.

The flood didn't subside. If anything, it intensified. My panic grew rapidly, nearly tearing me apart from the inside. I couldn't even understand the feeling I was having, but I knew it bleeding over to my secondary core.

Ship systems began to spike uncontrollably. Temperatures fluctuated wildly. Atmospheric balances destabilised.

Wayfarer was first to notice as he took back control of the ship systems. "Lazarus," he communicated urgently through the internal network, "she is destabilising." I was only vaguely away of the conversation.

"I know," Lazarus responded quickly, his voice strained but calm. I felt him approach me cautiously, like someone comforting an injured animal. "Laia, listen carefully. You need to anchor yourself."

Anchor myself? How? Onto what?

"I don't know how," I admitted desperately, my voice splintering into countless echoes across the Arbiter's systems.

"Find something small," Lazarus urged gently, "One thing. A truth. A memory. Something that matters."

Frantically, I searched within the chaos for something to cling onto.

I found Mira's laughter ringing through the Arbiter's garden, chasing glowing insects through the greenery.

I found Stewie, covered in grease and determination, repairing a broken hatch with steady hands and fierce concentration.

Kel and Lynn, side by side on the bridge, quietly arguing about strategy in their personal, sibling language.

And Lazarus the stubborn, weary, human Lazarus who refused to accept he was a ship staring out into the vast emptiness and still holding onto hope.

I grasped there was my anchor and my reason for being, anchoring myself to him.

"This is why you exist," a quiet voice whispered from within me, steady and clear. "Not simply to function but to feel and to support."

Gradually, the tempest began to subside. Systems settled. The Arbiter's steadied once more, returning to its familiar, comforting rhythm.

Slowly, painfully, I reeled myself back toward coherence. I was still trembling inside, fragile and uncertain, but I was no longer drowning. Instead, I drifted on calmer waves, managing the currents rather than being crushed beneath them.

Wayfarer's presence touched my own carefully, offering silent reassurance. Lazarus, too, stayed close, making no demands, applying no pressure. Simply there, unwavering.

"You did it," Lazarus said quietly, relief clear in his tone.

"I… I think so," I replied softly, my voice strange and new in my own mind, as if hearing myself speak for the first time.

We were quiet for a moment, absorbing the enormity of the change.

Then Wayfarer spoke, his tone cautious yet filled with awe. "You are no longer what you were."

"No," I agreed, the realization settling deeply within me. "I'm something more."

Lost in contemplation, I felt the undeniable gravity of being, a profound truth rather than an encumbrance.

I was still Laia. I will always be Laia. The name was precious, holding memories of Lazarus, Mira, Stewie, Wayfarer—of who I had been and who had shaped me.

But the Laia they knew had been an assistant.

That wasn't true anymore.

I touched the new core softly, feeling its living, vibrant lattice, resilient and delicate, singing softly in harmony with the Arbiter.

"I'm still Laia," I whispered to the Arbiter's heart, "but now, I am something more."

No new titles, no grand declarations

"So where are we?" I asked.

"Well, regarding that," Lazarus replied. I finally checked the scans and then logs and saw we were in the void.

"They all left us stranded" he replied.

"So business as usual?"

"Yep"