As I stared into the void, I thought, well, at first it was the most impressive thing I'd ever seen. The first month was like that. Not anymore. Now it just feels... lonely. There's no noise, nothing. And the only thing I do to keep from getting lost in that silence is play the piano. Yes, a piano. I made a piano when I was bored. Don't ask why I have a piano, I just grabbed a few strings, some pieces, and put it together. It was that or let the emptiness consume me, right?
To be honest, I'm good at it. Pretty good. I guess it's one of those things you don't forget, even when you cease to be human. And here I am, in space, playing "Amar como tú" (Love Like You). Beautiful, isn't it? Although it sounds different now. Slower. Heavier. Sadder. Maybe because there's no one listening, no one to tell it to, no one to dedicate the melody to.
The sound bounces off the metal walls of the spaceship and comes back to me, empty, hollow, as if the music were alone too. It didn't used to bother me so much to be like this, but time changes things. Silence is no longer peace, it's pressure. A pressure you feel even without lungs.
Sometimes I stop playing and just stare at my hands, resting on the keys. Hands that are no longer human. Hands that can destroy, build, alter entire worlds, but that still tremble when the music ends. I don't know if it's nostalgia or simply fear of being left with nothing to do, nothing to think about.
In my previous life, I didn't have anyone to share these things with either. I had some people, yes, but never enough to say I wanted to spend my last moments with any of them. There was never that connection. There was never that "someone." And now that I think about it, maybe that's why I'm not surprised to be here, alone, floating among stars that don't know I exist.
The melody continues, one note after another, and for a moment I close my eyes. I imagine someone is listening. It doesn't matter who. Just someone. But when I open my eyes, there's only the cockpit, the panels, the emptiness behind the reinforced glass, and me. Always me.
I keep playing. Not because I expect someone to appear, but because if I stop, the silence will win. And I'm not ready for that. Not yet.
"After a few hours of being on high alert for any mishap, I heard a sound that at first I thought was enemy troops. But now, observing more closely, I realized it was something I'd been searching for: that planet with the strange name, xxx something or other. Honestly, for now, I'll call it 'Fertile Earth 1,' easier."
"As I observed it from space, I did what any sane person in my position would do: I descended as quickly as possible and hovered. Obviously, the first thing I did was check for organic life in the atmosphere. What surprised me was that there was, and quite a lot of it. And it seemed intelligent. I mean, capable of what one would consider reasoning. From what I could tell from up here, they were in the Mud Age, since everything I saw—buildings and structures—was made of mud, wood, and simple materials."
"I stayed there for quite a while, hovering above the planet, and I couldn't help but compare it all to my previous life. Before, every day seemed like an empty repetition, full of meaningless obligations and nothing that truly belonged to me. Everything was routine, work, human responsibilities that weighed me down and left me breathless. And now... now I was here, seeing an entire world before me. So primitive, yes, but free. And I could be here, hovering above it, with the possibility of exploring, of deciding, of creating."
"I couldn't help but smile as I watched. Everything was different. Even my very being, my Silica body, my power, and my abilities... everything allowed me to experience this in a way my old life could never have imagined. Before, I could barely make important decisions; now, every move I made could change something on this planet, no matter how small. And for a moment, I felt a strange kind of pride, mixed with nostalgia for who I was and excitement for who I could become."
"The mud, the rivers, the creatures moving across the ground... everything seemed to have a rhythm, a basic harmony that made me think that even the simplest life can teach you something. My old self would never have appreciated this. I would have only seen a dull, dangerous, meaningless world. But now... now I could feel the beauty in simplicity, and at the same time imagine all I could do to protect it, study it, and understand it ... seen only a dull, dangerous, meaningless world. But now... now I could feel the beauty in simplicity, and at the same time imagine all I could do to protect it, study it, and understand it."
"The mud, the rivers, the rivers "I sighed, letting the silence of space and the lightness of my ship fill me with calm. For the first time in a long time, there was no rush, no orders, no human error to regret. Just me, the planet Fertil1, and the infinite possibility of discovering every corner of this place."
"I stepped off the ship after making sure there was nothing related to the Empire. No signals, no traces, no echoes of diamonds watching from the shadows. So, well, I had time. And frankly, I didn't want to float in space any longer than necessary ... I had time. And frankly, I didn't want to float in space any longer than necessary."
"I stepped off the ship after making sure there was nothing related to the Empire. No signals, no traces, no echoes of diamonds watching from the shadows. No echoes of the Empire. No echoes of the Empire. No echoes of the Empire. No echoes of the Empire. No echoes of the Empire. No echoes of the Empire. No echoes of the Empire. No echoes of the Empire. No echoes of the Empire. No echoes of the Empire. No echoes of the Empire. No echoes of the Empire. No echoes "I felt something beneath my feet that vaguely resembled grass, though it was more of a strange mix of damp earth and dry mud. Brown grass, if I had to call it that. I looked around and confirmed the obvious: most of the planet was mud. Mud as far as the eye could see. I suppose that's why the diamonds never bothered to colonize this place. It disgusted me a little, I won't deny it. And I couldn't help but think, with a small mental grimace, that I couldn't imagine racist gems happily strolling through the mud."
"I sighed."
"I sighed." "I sat down carefully, letting the ground receive me without resistance, and decided to relax. Just relax. I let my gem flow, let the energy circulate without orders or calculations, without plans or protocols. Mind you, I wasn't careless. My bionic arm was ready, active, and as I watched it, I thought I might paint it my color someday. Maybe purple and blue. It would look good. Too good, even."
"I closed my eyes, but not before activating an alert. A one-kilometer radius. If something approached directly, I would know. So yes, I had alerts. Always on alert."
"I closed my eyes and simply rested."
"I couldn't really explain it, but it felt like a recharge. Like I'd been running at ten percent all this time without even realizing it. And now, slowly, something inside me was building up. Twenty, thirty, forty. Energy flowing again. It was incredible. No pain, no tiredness, just a warm, steady feeling of stability. Like being whole again."
"I don't know how much time passed."
"Days? Weeks? Maybe."
"I opened my eyes as if I'd been reborn."
"Thank God," I murmured as I stretched, even though I didn't really need to. It was an old reflex, one that still refused to fade. I brushed off the mud that had clung to my body and observed a mental summary of everything that had happened during my rest, clear and orderly facts appearing in my mind.
"Eight weeks, huh?" I said with a soft, almost incredulous chuckle.
"As I cleaned the mud that had gotten inside my robotic hand, wiggling my fingers to make sure everything was working properly, I turned my head to the side and observed the place more closely."
"The planet was still there. Silent. Alive. Waiting."
"And for the first time since I went into space, I didn't feel rushed."
"Well... let's get down to investigating," I murmured, more to myself than anything else.
"Investigate... now? After everything I've done these past year and a half? Do you really want to waste time here in mud and sludge?"
"Yes... I do. But not waste time, I want to... analyze, understand the place." Let's see what's useful, you know? Materials, energy, maybe something that could be useful for the ship, or... I don't know, something worthwhile.
"Okay... but be careful. This place doesn't seem dangerous, but I can't rule anything out. Strange organisms, giant animals, maybe someone else... although... there are no signs, so I'm probably alone. For now."
"Assuming I'm alone is a risk... but a manageable one. My radar, my gem, the ship's sensors. Everything's ready. I can do this."
"So... are you going to go for it, or are you going to sit around staring at mud for weeks?"
"Come on, yes. Better to move, explore a bit. Maybe I'll even find something I wasn't expecting... something valuable."
"Okay... decision made. I'm heading to the nearest place I can examine, staying alert, and not letting my guard down." I haven't lost my mind... yet."
"Perfect... let's get to work, Silica."
I stood up, adjusted my bionic arm, and secured my sensors. Each step on the mud crunched, but it wasn't uncomfortable. My mind was active, focused. Every movement, every turn of my head, every small adjustment of my vision and radar was part of the plan: to explore without losing control.
"Let's see what's valuable," I whispered as I moved forward, letting my gem flow with awareness and vigilance, ready for the unexpected.
"We're going for the One Piece," I said to no one in particular, sarcastically. After this conversation with myself—or myself, for crying out loud, whatever I call myself—anyway, I don't have three legs.
And so I set out on the mission to investigate this planet.
End of Chapter 6.