“Alright, Jackie, let’s get back to the story…”
Z-P-N-E-S hung in hyperspace.
Blindy got tired of sitting there, watching space twist outside the hull like stars reflected in a warped mirror.
He stood up, swaying a little, and made his way toward the back—into the cargo hold, toward the “delivery.”
In the first cage, a man was crying.
“Please! You don’t have to do this!”
In the second, panic had already set in.
“We got money! Connections! We’ll pay double!”
Blindy yawned so wide it looked like he was trying to swallow his own exhaustion.
“Hmm… double, huh…?”
Zeros didn’t even turn his head. Just tilted it slightly, listening.
“Yeah! Yeah! Double! Triple! Just let us go!”
“We’ll make you rich! You’ll never have to work again!”
“I got kids! Please!”
The hostages slammed themselves against the cage walls, begging, shouting, breaking.
Blindy raised a finger, about to say “you’re free,” when the warning system snapped to life:
"ATTENTION.
PREPARING TO EXIT HYPER.
REPEAT: GET READY, YOU SONS OF BITCHES.
BLINDY, GET YOUR ASS BACK IN THE SEAT—THIS IS GONNA HIT."Blindy muttered under his breath and dragged himself back to the pilot’s chair.
“Zeros, you piece’a shit, you mind killin that crap?!
My own ship startin to sound… like… like… YOU, for fuck sake…”
Zeros didn’t move a single bolt.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Better listen to Z-P-N-E-S.”
Blindy dropped into the seat.
The ship exited hyper—
—and in front of them, there was… nothing.
Absolute. Pure. Perfect darkness.
Blindy went pale.
“Z-Zeros… what the fuck…
Where the hell the stars at?!
Who the fuck turned space off, buddy?!”
Panic hit him. Hard. Instinctive.
And if you remember, dear gremlins:
Blindy has an allergy to absolute darkness.
He can’t breathe in it.
“Shit…
we back here again…
I… I hate this… this pure philosophical darkness… this empty shit…
Zeros, buddy… please…
let’s get outta here… c’mon…”
There was only one source of light ahead:
A massive star, shifting from bluish-white to yellow-white,
pulsing like a giant cosmic heart.
And off to the side—
a faint smear of Andromeda.
And that was it.
Nothing else.
Zeros calmly pointed at a tiny speck in the void.
“Go there.
That’s OBSIDIΛN-7 station.You fucking idiot, it’s always the same with you.
The stars are behind us.
You’ll see them on the way back.”
Moments later, the ship aligned with its trajectory…
OBSIDIΛN-7
A station shaped like three colossal ribs twisted into a spiral.
Each segment was a chaotic cluster of lab modules,
bolted together like someone had built a space construction set
for geniuses and idiots at the same time—
while high on galactic-grade substances.
Glowing pipelines ran across its surface,
pulsing with blue “plasma breath.”
Antennas pointed into nothing.
Four massive gravitational rings spun so fast
even physics looked uncomfortable trying to explain it.
Professor Nevar Lokstey,
former scientist of the Cosmic Academy of Sciences,
lived here—
hidden, forgotten,
but still dangerous.
Twenty-nine years ago—
his grant proposals were rejected.
His research was ridiculed.
And Lokstey vanished.
Nine years later, the modified 3459-nCoV
swept across the galaxy—
and wiped out twenty percent of its population.
Ninety percent of all intelligent species were infected.
Only humanity adapted quickly.
For them, the virus became little more than a seasonal flu.
Many believed it was all the work
of Professor Nevar Lokstey.
And then, a strange post appeared on CosmoNet™:
“For hundreds of millions of years, ecosystems have undergone resets.
Mass extinctions cleared species and reshaped evolution.
On Terra, there were five great extinctions.
But we have STOPPED evolution.
Implants.
Medicine.
Biotechnology.
Cybernetic organs.
It is time for something new—
a REBOOT.”
And it was toward this being—
this madman,
who sought to “reset life” itself—
that Zeros and Blindy were heading.