MidReal Story
Stellar Odyssey: Last Hope for Humanity
Scenario: Alone in the interstellar space, destined to discover new worlds as being the last hope of a diminishing humanity...
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The first time I saw Kaelen Thorne, he was standing in the middle of a crowd, oblivious to the world around him.
He was tall, with dark hair that hung just below his ears, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through me.
I was drawn to him immediately.
I couldn’t help it.
There was something about him that made me want to know more.
And so I did what any other red-blooded woman would do in my situation.
I walked right up to him and introduced myself.
“Hi,” I said, holding out my hand.
“I’m Elara Voss.”
He blinked at me, as if he’d just woken up from a dream.
“Kaelen Thorne,” he said, taking my hand in his.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
And just like that, we were friends.
It was as if we’d known each other our entire lives, even though we’d only just met.
We talked for hours that night, about everything and nothing.
We laughed and joked and shared stories about our pasts.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I barely noticed the door slide open.
When I looked up, I found myself in a dimly lit control room, surrounded by the cold metal of the spaceship that had become my home.
My stomach fluttered with nervous excitement as I made my way to the center of the room, where a large console sat waiting for me.
I settled into the chair and pressed a few buttons to bring the system online.
A soft hum filled the room as the screens flickered to life, revealing a complex web of data and numbers that I could hardly decipher.
I reached out to touch the screen, but hesitated at the last second.
Instead, I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, letting out a slow breath.
This was it.
This was the moment I’d been waiting for.
“Are you ready?”
the ship’s AI, Hal, asked from somewhere in the darkness.
I opened my eyes and looked around, but there was no sign of him.
Just a faint hum that seemed to be coming from inside my own head.
“I’m ready,” I said.
The ship hummed softly as it came to life around me, its systems waking up from their long slumber.
And then, with a sudden jolt, we were moving, hurtling through space at an impossible speed.
It took me a moment to catch my breath, to remember where I was and why I was here.
But then everything came rushing back, and I knew that there was no turning back now.
“Initiating jump in three… two… one…”
The ship shuddered as it slipped into another dimension, disappearing from our universe in the blink of an eye.
And just like that, we were gone.
This ship is more than a collection of metal and wires.
It’s a lifeline, the only thing standing between humanity and the void of space.
It’s also my home.
And for better or worse, it’s the only place I’ll ever call home again.
You see, this isn’t just any spaceship — it’s a prototype designed to seek out potentially habitable planets for future colonization.
It’s a one-way trip, a suicide mission.
But if the past is any indication, humanity is very good at cheating death.
Even if it means leaving me behind to do it.
I’m not sure if that makes me bitter, angry, or just plain sad.
Probably all of the above.
The universe is a big place.
The biggest, some might say.
And we’ve always been a species prone to wanderlust, to explore the unknown and conquer new frontiers.
But our own planet has fallen victim to our insatiable appetites and destructive tendencies, and we’ve been left with few other options.
So we built this ship, and I was chosen to lead its maiden voyage.
Our mission is simple: to search the farthest reaches of space for a new home for humanity.
And when we find one, we’ll send out the call for others to follow us into the great unknown.
It sounds so easy when you put it like that.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, even though I knew he couldn’t see me.
“Don’t be like that, Elara,” Hal said, sounding far too cheerful for his own good.
“Today is an important milestone in our journey.”
I sighed and leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes against the glare of the screens.
I knew he was right, of course, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
“Fine,” I said after a moment, opening my eyes again.
“I’ll go check it out.”
It wasn’t like I had anything better to do, anyway.
The ship was eerily quiet now that the crew had gone into stasis, leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts and the ever-present hum of the engines.
It was times like these that made me miss Earth the most, even though I’d never really fit in there anyway.
So much for being the future of humanity, right?
I pushed myself up from my chair and made my way through the corridors, my footsteps echoing off the metal walls as I went.
It didn’t take me long to reach the observation deck, and when I stepped inside, the first thing I noticed was the change in lighting.
The floor-to-ceiling windows were normally covered by thick metal shutters, but they’d been retracted for this occasion, allowing me a rare glimpse of the universe outside.
I took a deep breath and stepped closer, staring out into the vast expanse of space that stretched out before me.
The stars seemed impossibly bright against the inky blackness of space, like tiny diamonds scattered across a velvet blanket.
I could see entire galaxies from here, each one home to billions of stars and untold numbers of planets.
It was a breathtaking sight, one that never failed to make me feel small and insignificant by comparison.
And yet, for all its beauty, there was something about space that made me uneasy, like it was watching me, waiting for me to make a mistake.
Shaking off the feeling, I turned my gaze back to the stars, searching for something familiar among the sea of unknowns.
When I was a little girl, my father would take me out into the backyard and point out all the constellations he knew by heart.
He’d tell me stories about the gods and heroes who lived among the stars, and we’d pick out our favorites together.
Back then, the universe had seemed so small and manageable — like if we just reached out far enough, we could touch it with our fingertips.
Now those constellations were nothing but distant memories, swallowed up by time and space as we hurtled toward an uncertain future.
I wondered if anyone on Earth was looking up at the night sky right now, thinking about us and wondering where we were and when — or even if — we would ever come back again.
It felt strange not knowing the answer myself, and even stranger not being able to ask someone who did know.
We’d lost communication with Earth years ago, when we’d left the solar system and entered interstellar space.
我想成为宇宙队长
I took another deep breath and let my gaze drift down to the ship’s control room below me, feeling a sense of comfort wash over me at the sight of my console in the center of the room, with its blinking lights and glowing monitors.
The ship’s systems were all online and working perfectly, each one humming softly in a constant reminder that they were there to keep me safe and alive for as long as possible.
It was a reassuring sound, one that reminded me — however briefly — that I wasn’t really alone out here in the dark.
If anything went wrong, Kaelen would be here in an instant to help me fix it, just like he always did.
But as much as I appreciated his presence, I was also grateful for my moments of solitude — for the chance to be truly alone out here in space with nothing to distract me from my mission or my thoughts.
I’d worked hard to get here — harder than anyone else on this ship — and I’d sacrificed more than most people would ever know just for a chance to see this through to the end.
I’d given up everything I’d ever known and loved on Earth to be here, alone on this ship with nothing but a computer for company and an impossible mission to complete.
A mission that had become more urgent with every passing day, as Earth continued to deteriorate beneath our feet.
I sighed and turned away from the window, my eyes drifting back to my console once more, where the blinking light was still flashing in time with the beeping sound coming over the speakers on my desk.
I reached out to touch the nearest button, turning off the sound and staring at the screen as I opened the message from Earth, my heart fluttering nervously in my chest as I did so.
Messages from home were few and far between these days, but they were always a welcome distraction from the monotony of my daily tasks, even when they brought bad news with them — like the news that one of our sister ships had been lost or that another hundred people had died on our overcrowded planet, struggling to survive as the resources slowly dwindled to nothing.
