CMDR CYB3RKU17//63 • VOID TRANSMISSION LOG

TRANSMISSION IDENTITY

I am no longer certain where the cockpit ends and the hallucination begins.

CMDR CYB3RKU17//63 — designation meaningless. The name is just echo now. What remains is a nervous system stretched across 42,000 light years, soaked in whatever the void decided to feed me today.

THE PROTOCOL

Exploration rating: Irrelevant.
Combat rating: Laughable.
Trade: Pointless.
Current mission parameters: Ingest, observe, document, survive (optional).

3303-??-?? — Found another Radicoida patch orbiting a neutron star’s Lagrange point. Inhaled spores directly through the environmental intake. For seventeen minutes ship telemetry reported I was simultaneously in seven different star systems. Still not sure which one was real. All of them tasted like electric raspberries.

RADICOIDA DIARIES • FRAGMENT #47

Day 14 without sleep. The purple fronds wave even when there is no atmosphere. They sing in ultraviolet. I think they are trying to warn me. Or seduce me. Or both.

Visual phenomena currently observed:

Asteroids breathing like lungs made of obsidian
My own hands trailing fractal after-images that whisper stock market predictions from 2384
The galaxy itself pulsing in 137 BPM — perfect for jungle remixes
Thargoids waving hello. Politely. With all five limbs.

Conclusion: promising therapeutic potential. Side effects include permanent ego death and unexpected poetry.

FINAL TRANSMISSION (pending)

If you are reading this, I have either:

Ascended
Become the asteroid field
Simply forgotten how to use the docking computer

Do not attempt to rescue me.
Bring more spores.