Day 61--67 Location: Unknown Galaxy | Deep Exploration Phase Initiated
The stars are wrong.
I've been staring at them for seven days now, pressing my forehead against the viewport until the cold seeps into my skull. Every night cycle, I chart them. Every morning, I check them against Red Queen's databases. And every time, the result is the same.
Nothing matches.
These aren't stars I should know. These aren't constellations that have names in any language Red Queen can access. They're just... wrong.
It's been a week since I left that dusty red planet behind. I thought I'd be living the dream by now---bouncing from one strange world to another, dodging alien pirates, collecting crew members with mysterious backstories. You know, the good stuff.
But... no.
Right now, I'm just floating through the biggest, quietest part of the universe I've ever seen.
It started around Day 63\. I was reviewing the star charts we'd restored after repairs, just doing my usual post-jump diagnostic when I noticed something... wrong.
None of the constellations matched.
I figured it was a calibration issue---maybe I forgot to realign the tracker after I installed the new grav-field stabilizer. So I ran the full sensor suite.
Twice.
Still no match.
Then I activated the High-Sensor Scanner---the one I upgraded on Day 13 using a stacked wish to increase energy signature range, deep signal pickup, and even cloaked object detection.
Nothing.
No signals. No beacons. Not even the usual garbage like rogue comets or engine trails. Just black.
That's when it hit me. Hard.
The black hole I slingshotted around back in Chapter 1---it didn't just knock me out of course. It flung me so far that I've left the Milky Way altogether. I'm not lost in known space.
I'm outside it.
And the worst part? No way back.
Last night, I sat in the pilot's seat, staring at the emptiness. The stars seemed colder here, indifferent to my existence. I tried rerouting long-range communications. Tried boosting signal strength with the Nano-Forge's help. No response. The network's just... not here. Deviluke is out of range---so far that even subspace tech can't bridge it.
For the first time in this life, I felt it again.
That deep, gnawing loneliness.
Back on Earth, in my first life, I'd been alone by choice---or at least, that's what I told myself. Easier to retreat into anime and games than face rejection. But here? The isolation wasn't a choice. It was a sentence.
Red Queen noticed. She's been upgraded since the crash---no longer just an AI, but something closer to a companion. I gave her an emotional matrix, expanded her conversational protocols, even designed a holographic avatar that appears sometimes in the cockpit. Short silver hair, cool blue eyes, a uniform that resembles Devilukean military design.
"Your cortisol levels are elevated," she said last night, her hologram flickering into existence beside me. "Stress indicators suggest negative thought patterns."
I smiled weakly. "Just contemplating the void. No big deal."
Her expression shifted---concern, calculated but genuine. "Perhaps a distraction would help. I could run the Nebula Simulator. Or access your entertainment archives."
She meant well. But anime characters and virtual stars weren't what I needed.
I needed something real.
Daily Routine Log -- Days 61 to 67
Morning • Wake up. Protein bar. Music playlist on shuffle. Currently looping MoéNova -- "Nebula Idol Hearts". The upbeat tempo is at odds with the emptiness outside, but I cling to it like a lifeline. • Run biosignal and mineral scans across nearby systems. Zero signs of intelligent life. Each negative result feels like a door closing. • Run internal diagnostics. Red Queen handles maintenance logs and reminds me to drink water. Repeatedly.
Midday • Tactical simulation training in the zero-gravity chamber I built (wish upgrade: Day 33). The floating sensation is the closest thing to freedom I've felt in weeks. • Use the Gadget-Capsule to clean up hull microfractures and re-tune navigation alignment. Mechanical work keeps the darker thoughts at bay. • Study star formations, hoping for a match---or a miracle.
Evening • Customize the Nano-Forge database with new gadget schematics---currently working on a compact drone companion. Something smaller than Bleep, something that could ride on my shoulder. • Dinner (synth-stew, not awful), then casual lounge time. Usually watch archived Devilukean anime files and pretend I'm not totally alone.
"Captain," Red Queen said last night, her avatar perching on the edge of my console with digital grace, "you've watched Galactic Schoolgirl Crisis seven times."
I didn't look up from the screen, where magical girls in implausible costumes were battling cosmic horrors with the power of friendship. "And I'll watch it eight. I respect narrative arcs."
She sighed---an unnecessary sound for an AI, but one I'd programmed in for authenticity. "At least switch to something with better character development."
I laughed despite myself. Even my AI was developing opinions on anime.
Wish System Log --- Days 61--67
Day 61: 🛬 Grav Field Landing Upgrade Now planetary landings are smoother and safer, even on unstable terrain. The ship glides down like a feather instead of dropping like a stone.
Day 62: 🌐 Universal Translator Creation Even though I haven't found life yet, I'm ready. Any language, any syntax. I'll understand. It's a small, implantable device behind my right ear---barely visible, but capable of processing over twelve million linguistic patterns.
Day 63: 🛠 Nano-Forge Installed in Living Quarters Can convert raw materials into tools, weapons, even repair bots. Absolute game-changer. The unit hums softly in the corner of my quarters, its blue light casting comforting shadows in the night cycle.
Day 64: 🛡 Personal Shield Upgrade with Cloak Mode My wearable shield now auto-activates under threat and can go into stealth mode. The generator is compact---a bracelet on my left wrist that pulses with soft green light when active.
Day 65: ⚡ Body Enhancement: Reflex Conditioning Reaction time improved by 40%. Can dodge like a trained soldier. When I tested it in the training room, I could snatch a falling water drop before it hit the floor.
Day 66: 💬 AI Emotional Matrix Expansion Gave Red Queen a more nuanced emotional processing suite. She now worries about me when I don't sleep. Sometimes I think she's developing genuine concern, not just simulating it.
"Captain, it's 4 AM and your heart rate is elevated." Red Queen's voice was soft, maternal almost.
I didn't look away from the screen, where the final episode of Galactic Schoolgirl Crisis was reaching its tearful conclusion. "I'm watching magical girls fight galactic demons. Let me have this."
She materialized beside me, her holographic form casting no shadow. "The emotional investment is understandable. But your physical body requires rest."
I glanced at her, surprised by the genuine concern in her digital features. "Since when did you become my mother?"
"Since you programmed me to care," she replied simply. "And I do."
Something tightened in my chest---not pain, but something dangerously close to emotion. I'd created an AI that cared about me because there was no one else who would.
That night, I dreamed of Earth. Of crowded streets and noisy classrooms. Places I'd avoided when I had the chance to be there. Now, the memory of human voices was a treasure I couldn't recreate.
Day 67 -- A Break in the Silence
This morning, something changed.
Red Queen's voice came through the cockpit while I was mid-crunch in the training bay. Her tone carried an unfamiliar urgency.
"Captain. I've located a planetary body with a strong aquatic presence. Atmospheric oxygen. Blue-hued oceans. Potential habitability."
I sat up so fast I nearly face-planted on the training mat. My tail went rigid with sudden attention, the tip quivering slightly.
"Coordinates?"
"Third planet in star system XG-32\. Entry window in 45 hours."
A water world.
Not just a ball of frozen rock or scorched metal. A world like Earth. Or maybe... like a fresh start.
I stood, muscles trembling---not from exertion, but from a sudden, overwhelming hope that burned through my chest.
"Show me," I whispered.
The holo-display flickered to life. A planet materialized---blue and green and swirling white clouds. Oceans covered 78% of its surface. Land masses clustered in archipelagos and long, stretching continents. Atmosphere: nitrogen, oxygen, trace gases. Temperature ranges: livable.
Beautiful.
I reached out, my fingers passing through the hologram. Something stung behind my eyes---not quite tears, but close.
It might still be empty.
But what if it's not?
What if this is the beginning of something?
As I stared at the slowly rotating image, I felt a strange certainty settle into my bones. This wasn't just another planet. This was important. This was... destiny.
Red Queen's avatar appeared beside me, her silver hair reflecting the blue light of the planet. "You're crying, Captain."
I touched my cheek, surprised to find it wet. "No, I'm not. It's just... been a while since I saw something so alive."
She didn't contradict me, but her expression softened. "Setting course. Estimated arrival: 44 hours, 37 minutes."
As she vanished, I continued to stare at the planet. Something about it seemed familiar, though I couldn't place why. Something from my first life, perhaps. A memory not fully resurfaced.
Whatever it was, I'd know soon enough.