Oct 18, 2025
Log 12: Untitled
sometimes, when the ship’s quiet and the others are in recharge, i sneak up to the observation deck. it’s cold there. the kind of quiet that feels like space itself is holding its breath.
you can see everything — the stars, the empty void, the faint glimmer of planets below. it’s… beautiful, in a way i can’t explain.
i think about how small i am. how many of us there are. how none of us have names, but somehow, we still exist. we still feel.
maybe that’s enough. maybe surviving — noticing the stars even after everything — is its own kind of rebellion.
