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Enveloped by coldness, Body became lifeless, Wanted warmth unrestricted, Even soul considered it prohibited, Yet you came, The wall broke, The soul healed, The cold became a feeling of old. I smiled back at you, Looking forward to a future with you

walking and only walking, on a path unknown, towards a destination unknown, saw a few traveller moving in the same path, some stopped to rest, some made it their home,

thoughts unable to move beyond if’s or ands

thinking always, on what else could have been done

Entering the embrace of other,

made me forget about the embrace of my mother,

sensing the currents of compassion spewing,

removed the threads, my mother was sewing sewing,

the threads of future and my past,

the time to say goodbye was approaching fast,

and when the eventual day came,

"Planets as living creatures... Did he drink too much?" Alex muttered under his breath, still trying to make sense of what Ishu had said. His mind raced, grasping at the implications. "But then again... if I were a creature the size of a planet, and smaller creatures were living on me... I’d probably smash them if they got annoying, right?"

He paused, turning the thought over in his mind. According to Ishu, this kind of destruction—the volcanoes, earthquakes, and other disasters—wasn't random. It was the planet acting out, responding to something, perhaps even sending a warning. The idea seemed crazy, but somehow, it fit. The disasters were sudden, unpredictable, and without warning—just like a living being's erratic temper.

"But a living planet? Something that big... it’s infeasible." Alex rubbed his temples, the concept too strange, too alien to wrap his mind around. "I mean... it could explain things. But it’s just so weird. This is gonna give me a fucking headache."

He sighed heavily and looked at the clock on his desk. "Guess I should sleep for a while. Clear my head. Maybe in the morning... it’ll all make sense."

While Alex slept, his phone buzzed on the desk, the bright screen illuminating the dark room. He groggily reached for it, eyes squinting as he read the new message from Ishu:

"See this latest report from NASA. It might help you get to some conclusion. I wouldn’t share this with anyone else due to its classified nature, but you're an exception. You’re the first person to genuinely show interest in Earth as a planet. Most are obsessed with stars, convinced that they're the key to understanding our universe. They forget that Earth is a part of it too."

The words lingered in Alex's mind, even after the screen faded to black. He couldn’t help but feel a chill run down his spine. Ishu was giving him access to something no one else had seen—and the implications were unsettling. The idea that Earth, this familiar, seemingly lifeless planet, might be alive... maybe he wasn’t as crazy as he thought.

Alex groggily rubbed his eyes and slid out of bed, the glowing screen of his laptop casting long shadows across the room. He opened the file Ishu had sent, glanced at the first few lines, then muttered under his breath, "This better be worth it." He hit send to forward the report to his home system.

Stretching his neck and sighing, he said aloud, "Alexa, start reading the report I just sent."

The AI responded with a soft chime, and seconds later, a mechanical yet calming voice began narrating the document. Alex shuffled toward the kitchen, his body heavy but his mind racing. As the coffeemaker sputtered and hissed, releasing the rich aroma of freshly brewing coffee, his attention remained glued to the disembodied voice echoing through the room.

The AI paused for a moment before continuing in its clinical tone.

"If you have access to this classified document, then you are one of the 500 most important scientists in the world. Sharing access with anyone outside this circle will result in immediate execution."

Alex froze, coffee mug in hand. The stark warning set his nerves on edge. He leaned against the counter, his heart thudding in his chest. The AI resumed:

"Proceeding with the report.

In 2028, two rovers were sent by NASA to Kepler-22b under the guise of routine exploration. Official records label them as ‘nonfunctional’ shortly after landing, with no attempt to retrieve data. This was a cover-up.

The latest findings from Kepler-22b have led to bone-chilling discoveries and groundbreaking hypotheses regarding our universe. Most notably, Kepler-22b itself is not merely a planet. Kepler-22b is a living organism."

Alex's breath caught, and he nearly spilled his coffee. He set the mug down carefully and moved closer to the laptop, as if proximity might make the words less surreal.

"This planet exhibits a unique form of biological organization: a macro-organism with systems analogous to veins, organs, and other structures required for sustenance. Kepler-22b is alive.

Further research indicates this phenomenon is not unique to Kepler-22b. Evidence suggests this may be the case for every planet in our solar system, including Mars. During the rover missions to Mars, anomalous structures were discovered beneath its surface, resembling vascular networks. Though these findings were buried, the implications are staggering.

Given the biological and geological similarities between Kepler-22b and Earth, the possibility that Earth itself is a living organism must now be considered."

The AI's voice droned on, but Alex had stopped hearing it. His mind reeled, trying to make sense of what he had just learned.

"Living planets... Earth might be alive..."

The implications were too vast to process. If Earth was alive, then humanity wasn’t just living on a planet—it was living inside a creature. He felt a cold sweat trickle down the back of his neck. He knew he should have dismissed it as nonsense, a leap of logic too absurd to take seriously.

And yet, the evidence he had seen—the unexplained disasters, the eerie patterns in the geological data—it all started to fit. He thought of Ishu’s cryptic remarks, his own sleepless nights running simulation after simulation, and the growing sense that something vast and unknowable loomed just beyond his comprehension.

"Don’t worry, dear... yeah, yeah, I ate—promise. Really, don’t worry about me. I’ve got it covered. Yes, I’ll take my medication, and I’ll take care of myself. It’s just... I need to compile these findings—try to make sense of it all, maybe form a theory, a hypothesis. I’ll send it to you once it’s ready so you can read it, okay? Yeah... yeah, I promise. Alright. Take care, love. Bye."

As he hangs up the call, he lets out a weary sigh, his hand instinctively brushing across the cluttered desk. Data sheets, charts, and geological samples—spanning from 6000 BCE to the present day—are scattered in a chaotic mess. He picks up a report, scanning it with furrowed brows, then tosses it aside with a frustrated grunt. “This shit doesn’t make any sense... How can a volcano erupt with no buildup? No seismic activity, no pressure changes—nothing.” He mutters to himself, flipping through more pages. “And four times? Four times, across millennia? If it were just one, I could’ve ignored it. Coincidence. Statistical anomaly.”

His hands shake slightly as he fishes a pill bottle from the edge of the desk, popping the cap open with practiced ease. “This is truly a headache,” he sighs, swallowing the pill dry. His eyes drift back to the data, unwilling to let it go. Something about it gnaws at the edges of his mind, refusing to let him rest. Massaging his temples, he slumps into the creaking chair, his mind a whirlwind of unanswered questions. With trembling fingers, he boots up the simulation software. "One more," he mutters under his breath. "Just one more. I just need at least one case where everything goes... normally. If there’s a god—oh mighty—make sense of this data." His voice cracks slightly, betraying the mounting unease.

He hits the start button and leans in, his gaze fixed intently on the screen as the simulation begins to run. His other hand fidgets with a pen, spinning it between his fingers with increasing agitation. Every flick of his wrist, every tap of the keyboard, carries the weight of his desperation. His lips move silently as numbers and graphs play out before him. "Please," he whispers, barely audible. "Please no... not again." His eyes dart across the results, scanning for anomalies, for patterns, for anything. The pen slips from his fingers, clattering onto the desk. He freezes. The simulation’s outcome becomes unmistakable. The same eerie conclusion as before.

"It fucking happened again," he hisses, his voice sharp and trembling. His fists clench, gripping the edge of the desk as if trying to steady himself. "I can’t even blame my software. I’ve run this on two other systems—double-checked every variable." He exhales sharply, his breaths shallow and rapid. "It has to be the data. The data must be wrong."

He grabs his phone with shaky hands, dialing a number with practiced urgency. As soon as the line connects, he doesn’t wait for pleasantries. “The geological record we’ve been using is wrong. There’s no doubt about it,” he snaps.

A muffled voice on the other end responds, but whatever they’re saying only fuels his irritation. “What do you mean I’m crazy?” he cuts in, his tone sharp and incredulous. “Oh, so you’re telling me the data—showing that a volcano exploded and wiped out an entire region—when that volcano had no geological possibility of erupting for another thousand years, is accurate? Do you even hear yourself right now?”

The voice tries to counter, but he’s too far gone. Sarcasm drips from his words. “Oh, of course, I’m the fucking idiot here. Yeah. Sure. Great talk.” Without another word, he hangs up, slamming the phone onto the desk. “Fucking hell,” Alex mutters, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Everyone thinks I’m crazy. And this data—this damn data—is driving me insane. Why me?” He groans, slumping back in his chair.

With a frustrated sigh, he picks up the phone he’d thrown moments ago, brushing off the dust as if that would also wipe away his exasperation. His eyes dart to a business card lying amidst the chaos of his desk. "Why don’t I call him?" he mumbles to himself. "He might have an idea—or at least know something."

He grabs the card, carefully dialing the number etched into its surface. The phone rings twice before a calm, unfamiliar voice answers.

“Uh, hello? Mister Ishu? This is Alex—Alex Martin. We met during the G20 Summit back in 2034? You gave me your card.” His voice wavers slightly, unsure if the man even remembers him. “I know, I know—it’s been three years. But, um... I’ve been studying Earth’s geological data, and, uh, the explosion of Mount Vesuvius? It’s—it’s very peculiar, to say the least.”

The voice on the other end pauses, then responds. Alex’s eyes widen slightly at the words. “Wait—you’re also looking into it?” His breath catches. “So, it’s not just me. You find it weird too. That’s... that’s a relief, I guess.”

He leans forward, pen tapping anxiously against his desk. “Do you have any idea what might’ve caused it?” A longer pause. When the reply comes, Alex stiffens, repeating the words aloud as if they’re incomprehensible. “You... you’ve started to consider Earth as a living thing?”

He lets out a nervous laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “I mean—it’s a planet. A rock. How could it possibly be alive? I didn’t study much biology, but a creature like this shouldn’t even be... possible. Should it?”

The voice on the other end says something else—calm, measured, almost cryptic. Alex nods absently, even though they can’t see him. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll, uh—I’ll call you later. Thank you, Mister Ishu, for your time.”