Reborn as a Spaceship

I named it Fluffy.

The first time I said it aloud, Laia rolled her eyes, it was a strangely comforting gesture, and one that told me she was settling nicely into her new form. Wayfarer just stared, radiating quiet disapproval or perhaps resignation. With him, it was always difficult to tell, though his silence carried more judgment than most words ever could. Especially lately, I could tell that being in this universe was harming his mental health but we still had something we needed to complete first.

The ridiculous name stuck. I suppose a part of me desperately needed something human, something absurdly small, to cling to amidst the overwhelming immensity of our discoveries. Fluffy a vast tentacled being we'd encountered within the dimensional lattice was terrifying. Not because it had attacked us, but precisely because it hadn't. Its intense, alien curiosity made me feel insignificant.

More than that, it gave me what I needed: context. Experiencing the lattice through its vast, alien perspective that was filtered through Wayfarer's connection and then aligning that with my dimensional theoretical knowledge and Machine God research, everything finally clicked into place. It was like lifting the hood of the universe and seeing the engine underneath. Dimensions and the energy lattice weren't just tools or pathways; they were the fundamental machinery that powered everything in the galaxy.

And within that realisation, another truth emerged clearly: the Swarm was not some natural calamity, no invasive species born in cosmic chance. No, it was constructed or perhaps grown, perhaps forged but undeniably crafted. I strongly suspected the Harmonics were behind it, though their motives remained elusive. A weapon gone rogue, a failed experiment, or perhaps a deliberate instrument to enforce their cruel balance across galaxies.

The Swarm's way of traversing space was suspiciously similar to Fluffy's natural dimensional manipulation. It also had tell-tale signs of being gifted with dimensional theory.

But suspicion wasn't proof. I needed something concrete. A sample.

That meant attempting to capture one again.

Our last attempt had nearly ended us. We barely escaped. The Swarm had torn through our drones like illusions, dissolving them instantly. I still watched the recordings, not to learn more as I knew it by heart, but as a reminder of the deadly power we faced. It moved like spilled ink, liquid darkness rippling with an insatiable hunger. It didn't merely move; it hunted us, recognised us, and anticipated our attempts to escape.

I survived that encounter only because the dimensional drive had been pre-charged. The last-second shift to another system had been harrowing. Wayfarer had radiated disappointment, even anger, though he'd said nothing. He hadn't needed to. His silence stung enough. He had already made his displeasure known at trying to collect a sample.

Yet the near-death experience had crystallised my resolve. I despised feeling manipulated, being nothing but a pawn to entities like the Old Ones. This time, I would take control. With tangible evidence of the Swarm's origin, I could finally justify confronting those beings who saw entire galaxies as mere playthings. Even if others wouldn't listen, knowing the truth would make all the difference to me.

We floated now in perfect silence, hidden within the cold, pink haze of a nebula. An ancient, extinguished star hung motionless at the system's core, casting a dull, surreal glow over the battlefield we'd prepared. No heat, no detectable radiation it was an ideal backdrop for our deception.

Laia coordinated our trap, deftly manipulating a network of microjump buoys spread invisibly through the void. Each buoy pulsed faintly, weaving dimensional resonances like a subtle web. Between them drifted organic decoys, each emitting faint yet tempting biosignatures, not enough to scream 'trap', but just enough to murmur 'easy prey'.

"Laia?" I prompted, checking my own impatience. It wasn't necessary; her focus was absolute, her new form allowing her an intuitive grasp of every system.

"Buoys are green. Network locked," she reported evenly, then hesitated briefly, "and Fluffy is ready too."

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Her voice carried a thin strain of discomfort, an unspoken anxiety about our reliance on the lattice entity. But she would pilot us if needed, and I trusted her implicitly.

Wayfarer, as usual, said nothing. Yet I felt his presence like tectonic plates under unimaginable strain. He opposed this mission vehemently but he had no choice but to stay. Trust didn't always mean agreement, and sometimes the deepest support came from silent solidarity.

The Swarm arrived without warning or ceremony. On long-range scanners, it appeared first as a subtle shadow spreading through space, then resolved into a dark, fluid presence that flowed eerily towards our decoys. It moved confidently, no hesitation, no doubt.

"First decoy Alpha-3 consumed," Laia reported sharply, voice tight. "Biosignature lost."

The Swarm's trajectory held steady, exactly as predicted. It slipped effortlessly through space toward the second decoy, a relentless tendril of darkness stretching hungrily forward. In its hunger, it had done what we had wanted it to and split its body up into parts to search for more food.

"Alpha-4 contact imminent," Laia said. "Threshold gamma approaching… exceeded now."

"Now!" I shouted as I hit the trigger.

Across the void, the trap activated. We blinked to each jump buoy in perfect sequence, for each jump we set up a bit more of the dimensional barrier. In an instant, a kind of cage, invisible but real, snapped shut around the Swarm fragment like a net closing on a fish.

The tendril writhed, shadows bending and flaring as it realised too late what had happened. Its shape twisted violently, trying to slip through gaps that no longer existed.

But the net held.

For now.

Then Fluffy intervened.

Before the Swarm fragment could break free, Fluffy's vast, invisible presence tore open a dimensional conduit. Its enormous gravitational influence twisted through reality, grasping our captured prey, and pulling it forcefully into the energy lattice.

For a brief moment, relief surged through me. But it was short-lived.

"The main body is reacting!" Laia shouted, tension finally cracking her composure. "Massive energy surge inbound. Brace!"

The Swarm surged toward us with furious speed, darkness boiling forward like a tide. Raw, cold wrongness slammed against my senses there was no pain, no physical damage just a sickening sensation that reality itself had recoiled.

"Shift now—now!" I yelled, desperation creeping into my voice as I activated the dimensional drive.

But it was Fluffy, again, who saved us. A dimensional rift opened without our prompting, yanking the Arbiter violently into the lattice. Colours exploded in impossible cascades around us. Reality bent, twisted, and for a dizzying heartbeat, everything dissolved into a blur of chaotic hues.

When clarity returned, we hung suspended safely within the lattice, Fluffy's presence enfolding us protectively. I steadied myself, reeling from the sudden transition.

I wasted no time, sending out a retrieval drone immediately into the lattice's strange, resonant folds to secure the Swarm sample. My mind raced with possibilities, anticipation burning brightly as I brought the captured fragment onboard for analysis.

But it was not to be.

The sample began violently destabilising, self-destructing before our eyes. There was no explosion, just rapid, perfect annihilation. All our careful planning, all that risk, vanished in an instant.

Yet oddly, that destruction was proof enough. The Swarm was constructed. No natural entity would destroy itself with such swift, methodical certainty. Only something purpose-built would safeguard itself against capture this way. The loss wasn't complete; I had compiled a significant amount of data that I expected to use later.

Wayfarer said nothing, though his quiet, disapproving presence felt almost deafening. Laia looked at me with concern, yet she didn't question me. Not aloud.

It didn't matter now. My mind was already set, even more firmly than before. The Swarm was Harmonic technology was no longer a theory, but a conviction. We were being toyed with by entities playing games far above our heads.

And I refused to be their pawn any longer.

The Old Ones, the Oracle, the prophecy, it no longer held power over me. Whatever fate they had woven, whatever path they expected me to walk, I was stepping off it. Their game board was vast, yes but now I knew how to leave the board entirely.

The prophecy hadn't come to pass, not yet. But it didn't need to. We no longer had to wait here, tangled in someone else's design. Now that we can move between energy lattices and between universes. We weren't stuck anymore. We could come back if we wanted. On our terms.

And so, we left.

Fluffy guided us in silence, swimming through the lattice, like it had done for eons. It brought us to a thinning, a breach where the membrane between realities wore thin like old parchment. A place no map could mark, no machine could find. A place born of memory, motion, and something older than both.

As we hovered on the edge, I stepped into the navigator's role. Not physically, but mentally—letting my thoughts stretch into the current of the lattice. I wasn't sure what would happen. Whether I could do what Fluffy did, whether I was ready to feel that weight again.

But the moment I reached out, something shifted. Like snapping back into a rhythm I'd always known. I felt the tug of familiarity, the faint heartbeat of our old universe pulsing just beyond the veil. And there, glowing in the dark like a lighthouse across a storm was our ocean planet.

I took hold of the path.

And we began the return.