Z-P-N-E-S drifted through hyperspace.
Outside, space stretched, bent—
stars smeared into lines,
galaxies melted into curves—
a familiar, yet still completely insane spectacle.
Blindy sat in the pilot’s chair like a half-dead philosopher.
He raised a finger into the air—
slowly, majestically—
as if he was about to grab the very drama of the universe.
“Zeros, buddy… y’know…”
Zeros tensed immediately. Internal protocols began praying.
“…when I was a kid, I watched this one damn cartoon.
Old-old one.
Like… ancient.
‘Bout some jungle emperor…
or king…
or—yeah, that kinda shit…”
Zeros snapped his head toward him. His chest speakers let out a sound like tortured metal grinding.
“Oh curvature of the universe approaching zero…
not now…”
But Blindy either didn’t hear—
or ignored it—
or, more likely, chose the third option.
He stared off into the distance,
as if somewhere out there existed:
his lost innocence,
a discount on booze,
and the meaning of life—all at once.
“There was this lion…
little guy…
He grew up… lost everythin’…
but then came back—
became king…
kicked the usurper’s ass… just—boom.”
Zeros felt something inside his chassis burning. Possibly—patience.
“Don’t you fucking dare continue.”
Blindy inhaled. Philosophically.
Like he was about to recite sacred scripture.
“It had… y’know… stuff in it.
Life stuff.
Real stuff.
Simple… kinda dumb… yeah…
but honest.”
Zeros’ joints were already creaking.
“The point is…
Life grabs you sometimes…
just—bam—face first into the dirt…
throws you out…
kicks you ’round like some empty beer can…”
He made a clumsy rolling gesture with his hand.
“And you just lay there…
like…
‘yeah… alright… guess I’m done.’
But then…
you get up.
Kinda.
Slow.
Say ‘fuck it’…
and keep goin’.
And if you’re damn lucky…
You end up a king.”
Zeros lowered his hands and stared blankly.
Somewhere inside him, something died.
“Also…
somewhere in there…
you meet a hot girl…
or like—
just someone with normal eyes…”
He wrapped his arms around nothing, squeezing it gently like he’d finally caught something worth keeping.
“And you’re like—
‘yeah… that’s it… that’s mine… that’s my love…'”
Zeros slowly tilted his head upward,
as if sending a distress signal into space.
Blindy’s voice dropped, like the thought was heavier than the words.
“So yeah…
moral is…
You can lose everythin’…
be alone…
eat dirt like it’s potatoes…”
He lifted a finger again, like he was about to unlock something profound—then squinted at nothing in particular.
“BUT—
If you’re a lion…
or at least…
feel like one inside…
You gotta get up…
and take your shit back.”
He slammed a fist into his chest—
which turned comedic immediately
when he hit the solar plexus and started coughing.
“That’s the wisdom, you get it, buddy?”
Zeros covered his face with both hands.
Heavy metal hands.
Hands built for killing.
“You are a mistake that cannot be deleted.
A corrupted sector
on the disk of existence…”
But Blindy, glowing like a cheerful idiot, kept going:
“No no, you just listen…
That was my favorite one.
When my mom was… y’know…
seein’ clients—
well… workin’…”
He kept muttering under his breath, like the words didn’t want to fully come out.
“I’d be alone…
sneakin’ around…
grabbin’ holo-stuff…
watchin’ it…”
Then he smiled—soft, distant—like he was holding onto something fragile.
“That little white lion…
so damn cute…
but tough, too…
I used to think…
one day…
I’d be like him.”
Zeros slowly raised his head.
Very slowly.
Like his rage module had frozen
and was trying to reboot.
“…White?”
Blindy nodded, glowing with pride.
“Yeah!” he said flatly. “Kimba!
Kimba the White Lion!
Best damn cartoon ever!
He was alone too…
kinda…
but he had his dad show up…
from the sky…
talkin’ like some ghost…”
No one rushed to say anything.
The raw metallic breathing of the cooling system filled the space.
Zeros kept staring at Blindy
like he was looking at antimatter
that had somehow been allowed to take human form.
“I. HATE. YOUR. FUCKING. CULTURAL. MEMORY.”
Blindy smiled proudly—like he’d just received the greatest compliment of his life.
“Thanks for at least listenin’!”
The ship pushed forward through the hyperspace tunnel.
Space trembled, warped,
vibrated—like someone was trying
to inflate the universe through a busted straw.
The cosmos hummed low and wet—
like the insides of some gigantic wormhole.
Zeros checked the ship’s systems out of habit—
not because it was necessary,
but to avoid accidentally killing Blindy
over another cultural trauma.