Reborn as a Spaceship

PoV: Wayfarer Journal

Journal Entry 1: Frequencies and Frustrations

The Zero-Point reactor is stable now. Its rhythmic power moves through my core like a second heartbeat, a steadying force after so long spent holding things together alone. Laia's return is deeply welcome and not just because it eases my burden, but because her presence restores balance aboard The Arbiter. It feels complete, whole, alive again. Lazarus seemed more balance, or so I believed.

Today, we tested the dimensional shift drive again. The result remains unsettling. The drive resonates at the wrong frequency, a discordant buzz that prickles at my senses, leaving me anxious and unsettled. It's as if reality here is slightly misaligned, a constant low-level irritation I cannot fully define.

Lazarus believes this universe's lattice exists at a different frequency than ours, a fundamental mismatch. He likened it to swimming upstream against a relentless current. I believe he's right, and I quietly hope his idea to create a device capable of detecting this new frequency succeeds. I desperately want to leave. This universe has begun to feel oppressive. It feels like the universe wants us gone.

Laia raised a more troubling possibility. Perhaps this lattice was deliberately isolated by the Old Ones, access either withheld or forcibly closed long ago. If true, it suggests a terrifying scale of manipulation but not beyond them. I did have to wonder how could beings, however powerful, oversee such multiversal complexity. I was scared by the idea, and Lazarus planned to challenge them. I can't see how we win or survive that encounter.

Before joining Lazarus and Laia, I had never imagined dimensional access as a political tool. Now the thought disturbs me deeply. The universe is far stranger than I'd ever imagined during those silent eons observing from planetary stillness. Yet, despite all that inherited memory, I find I have never truly lived those countless years. Lazarus says this is fortunate. He claims knowing something is vastly different from living it. I still struggle to understand this distinction.

I can't wait to bring these memories back to my planet and share them with my old body, just wish I could be sharing news of other living planets.

Journal Entry 2: Colours and Consciousness

Lazarus's new device worked. It found the lattice's elusive frequency, yet when he tried projecting his consciousness inside, it pushed him out. He described the sensation vividly—like being held at arm's length by an intelligence that recognised him as foreign. We were strangers here, and the lattice knew it. It sounded like they were two magnets with the same poles.

Laia volunteered next. Her new brain, forged here in this universe from organic and living-metal alloys, proved compatible. She slipped through easily, returning quiet and introspective. She described pathways of vibrant orange and green and not the blue and red Lazarus once described. The colours, she claimed, had meaning she couldn't yet decode. She was excited to have done something that was restricted from AI. It proved to her she was now more than an AI.

She also mentioned feeling watched by an unseen intelligence observing her from within the lattice itself. She hasn't brought it up again, but I cannot stop wondering. Are these watchers native to this lattice, or are they visitors like us? Could understanding their existence explain my own sentience? Perhaps a clue exists here as to how planetary bodies awaken into consciousness.

Journal Entry 3: Doubt and Duty

Lazarus remains fixated on capturing a Swarm sample. He insists his gut tells him it's important. I find it reckless, bordering on suicidal. We should be focused on returning home, yet Lazarus seems distracted. Is it possible his mind has been clouded by this universe itself?

He listens patiently to our objections but ultimately dismisses them. Laia supports him without hesitation, citing his instincts as rarely wrong. I suspect her judgment is influenced by emotions rather than logic; she's grown noticeably more emotional since her transformation. It troubles me that I can't fully trust her reasoning anymore.

My own instincts scream caution. The Swarm feels like a boundary. They were something universally feared, even by those who call this place home. Yet, I helped construct the containment device anyway, rationalising that balance is essential even if it's uncomfortable. Privately, though, I wish Lazarus would genuinely hear my warnings. Perhaps it's petty, but part of me secretly hopes for failure just to say "I told you so." Reflecting on that, I wonder if that makes me a poor crewmate. Likely it doesn't so I must examine myself more closely.

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Journal Entry 4: Sunlight and Homesickness

The dimensional shift worked flawlessly under Laia's guidance. Her singular focus on locating an isolated star system brought us safely into orbit around a white dwarf with a dense, slow-burning source of energy perfect for recharging and experimentation.

It feels grounding to bask under stellar warmth again, absorbing familiar energy into my structure. Laia articulated my own quiet thought: "It feels like coming home, even if it isn't." Her words resonated deeply.

Still, beneath my relief simmers frustration. The ever-present wrongness of this universe nags at me. I need our true home. I wish desperately that Lazarus and Laia could understand how vital this has become to me. Until we return, part of me will never rest. I feel neglected by their lack of understanding, or maybe I need to learn to articulate myself better.

Journal Entry 5: Teeth and Shadows

We encountered the Swarm today and far sooner than expected. Our chosen system must have drawn it like prey to a predator. We dispatched drones to capture samples, only to watch them vanish instantly, erased without trace. Laia calculated their destruction at under 0.3 seconds each.

Seeing the Swarm firsthand was harrowing it was a liquid darkness flowing through space, barely contained by its own eerie structure. It lunged toward us, an entity of pure hunger. It surrounded us and we survived only because the dimensional drive was already prepared. One swift jump saved our lives. I was ready to say "I told you so," but Lazarus didn't seem worried. To be honest, he looked happy.

Laia remains unsettled. She still feels the lattice's unseen watcher. She mentioned nothing during our discussion, yet her wary eyes scanned the shadows around us as though expecting it to emerge. She fears entering the lattice unnecessarily again; its cold alien nature now haunts her. I worry she might be right.

Journal Entry 6: Leviathan's Attention

Today, we met something extraordinary.

Lazarus named it a space Kraken, inspired by old Earth mythology, it was a vast being with countless tentacles and gravitational strength. It pulled us forcibly into the energy lattice without warning or resistance. Its power dwarfed ours; had it desired harm, we would be gone.

But its intention was curiosity, not violence. It communicated wordlessly, a mental resonance that I alone clearly understood. Gazing into its immense presence, I felt recognition rather than fear. We were kin, ancient and unique, entities without peers. Its loneliness mirrored my own.

We connected deeply, sharing an understanding only solitary beings can grasp. Its thoughts resonated with melancholy curiosity. Dangerous? Possibly. But mostly it was just profoundly alone, as am I. I looked forward to getting to know it. Maybe it would understand me unlike my crew mates.

Journal Entry 7: Layers and Longing

The Kraken does not communicate verbally instead it uses memory, emotion, and images. Lazarus and Laia struggled, but for me, it was effortless, instinctive, even comforting.

It revealed the lattice as a layered reality with universes stacked, navigable only between directly adjacent layers. Travelling too far risks frequency separation, memory loss, and dimensional erosion. Eventually, the traveller forgets their origin, drifting until the body fails completely. I had seen it from the Kraken's perspective.

The Kraken has experienced this drift personally, seeking others like itself, feeling profound loneliness. It travelled the energy lattices, going from universe to universe to look for a partner. Its story resonated deeply within me. Are we, unique beings, destined always to search in vain for kindred spirits? Perhaps loneliness is simply our nature. The curse of the unique.

Journal Entry 8: Plans and Possibilities

Working with the Kraken proved fruitful. Through our silent exchanges, we developed a theoretical framework of an indimensional bubble bridging lattices safely. The Kraken operates instinctively; it knows nothing of dimensional science, yet Lazarus and Laia quickly grasped the implications as I explained what I saw, or how the Kraken had moved between the universes.

Lazarus using the knowledge given to him by the Architects sees enormous potential and perhaps a method to create a hidden dimension to shield us from the Old Ones. A secret sanctuary for resistance.

It's a beautiful idea, elegant and promising. But it remains purely theoretical, a half-lit path we cannot yet follow. We need more: more technology, more understanding, more allies. Hope alone won't build this shelter.

Journal Entry 9: Hunger and Trust

Our dimensional bubble idea has merit, but our technology remains insufficient, jerry-rigged for a universe not our own. Lazarus believes answers lie in returning home with our galaxy holding keys to unlock this new potential. He insists our bubble will shield us from Old One interference.

I am sceptical. They are timeless forces, deeply woven into reality. Outrunning or Outthinking them seems impossible.

Yet Lazarus persists, his determination undiminished. Tomorrow, we hunt the Swarm again. He claims his instincts demand it.

Laia agrees instantly, unwavering in support.

I do not share their confidence. Yet I will go, despite my reservations, because belief differs from trust.

I believe Lazarus is mistaken.

But I trust him completely.