"Incredible," Silica said, watching a mud tree rise before him, its thick roots and jagged trunk seemingly formed from layers upon layers of hardened mud.
"Interesting," he murmured afterward, inadvertently comparing this landscape to the worlds he knew—polished, symmetrical, and lifeless within.
Well, the difference was more than obvious, he thought with a small inward chuckle.
He walked along paths completely covered in mud. Each step left a clear, imperfect mark, something that in any colony of the empire would have been considered a mistake. Even so, he didn't dislike it. He didn't plan to stay long on this planet; his main objective was to let the ship cool down completely, just in case. He knew that pushing the machinery too hard always ended badly. After that, he would continue his foray into space. Although, if he found something entertaining or useful, he wasn't going to waste it.
As he advanced, he observed expanses of brown grass mixed with mud that was both dry and damp. The terrain seemed to absorb everything without complaint.
"Is there water on this planet?" he wondered for a moment, frowning slightly. Not water in the basic sense, because that was obvious, but uncontaminated water, without the residue of injectors, without the essence of the earth seeping through each layer of soil.
The idea intrigued him more than he had expected. Perhaps this planet wasn't as useless as the empire had dictated.
He decided then that he would stay for three or four days. Nothing permanent. Just to observe, rest, and let the silence do its work.
For the first time in a long time, he felt no hurry.
Silica, from a distance, observed the civilizations of that planet. They didn't communicate with each other, there was no exchange whatsoever, only movement. However, something provoked an immediate, almost instinctive, repulsion in him. One of those creatures was absorbing another. It wasn't a fusion like the ones he had seen before; it lacked harmony and synchronicity. Here, the horror was clearly visible on the face of the disappearing creature, as if its existence were extinguished in that very instant. No, it wasn't a union, it was a condemnation.
"This already gives me a negative point," I thought, with a grimace of disgust that I didn't even try to hide.
I walked a little faster, reflecting on what I had said earlier about this planet being kind. Perhaps I had been too hasty in that judgment. The mud no longer felt so harmless under my feet.
As I observed my surroundings, I noticed a rocky cave; its irregular entrance contrasted sharply with the muddy terrain that surrounded it. Curiosity overcame prudence, so I decided to approach. Perhaps there was something inside, some resource, some answer, or at least a place where I could better understand this world.
I peered inside.
But out of nowhere, a cold sweat trickled down the back of my neck.
"No way," I thought instantly, as I summoned the organic life locator in my hand.
The readings spiked.
"A damn trap," I muttered, taking steps backward, my heart racing, as I watched the creatures begin to move. They hadn't just arrived, no. They were waiting for me.
"No way," I repeated, and this time I didn't think, I acted.
I ran to the other side without looking back. As I moved forward, panic gripped me as I noticed a swarm of those things following me, deformed, heavy, and surprisingly fast for what they were.
"Holy shit," I thought, immediately activating the call to my ship. This planet was not, by any stretch of the imagination, what I was looking for.
Suddenly, a huge chunk of mud broke loose and fell almost on top of me. I narrowly dodged it, feeling the impact make the ground vibrate.
Without pausing, I materialized the beams in my hands and fired at the giant mass of mud. The impact worked. The thing recoiled, partially dissolving.
I seized that second.
I activated flight at my fingertips and ascended swiftly, instinctively shrinking into a ball as I rose.
From the air, I could only observe.
And what I saw filled me with horror.
The civilizations I had seen before, out of nowhere, dissolved into mud, as if they had never existed, as if their presence had been nothing more than a cruel illusion.
Suddenly, a thought struck me with force.
"A trap planet," I thought in a panic.
Without wasting another second, I entered my ship, which was already beside me, and as soon as I stepped through the hatch, I lunged for the controls. As if my life depended on it, I sped away from the planet.
As I flew away and watched the planet from space, I couldn't help but freeze in horror.
Just before I lost sight of it, I noticed the planet begin to split open. The surface was separating, revealing what looked like a face... and a mouth.
...
...
...
Absolute silence filled the cockpit. Purely on instinct, I fully activated the ship, letting the systems take over while I remained motionless.
As the ship headed in the next direction, I slowly leaned back against the wall.
"Ha..."
"Haha..."
"HAHAHAHA..."
I started laughing, tears welling in my eyes.
"Of course... I couldn't have done that well, could I?" I said to no one in particular.
With tears in my eyes and a tight chest, I began checking the ship's available systems. I even activated the tracker, something I didn't like doing, but I needed to know.
My expression turned pale instantly.
There was an Imperial ship nearby.
"Holy shit," I thought as I switched to manual mode and carefully maneuvered away toward a nearby meteorite.
Every adjustment I made to the controls felt heavy, as if my own hands were hesitating with me. As I approached the meteorite, an uneasy feeling settled in my core.
The Imperial ship was heading in the same direction.
I wasted no time. I activated the front drill and, with a dry, metallic clang, blasted a hole in the meteorite's surface. As soon as I had enough room, I squeezed the ship inside and severed most of the external systems.
Silence.
From inside, I watched in panic as several lights passed nearby. I didn't see them directly, but I sensed them. Imperial ships crossed the area like predators confident in their territory.
I froze.
I didn't even breathe, though I didn't need to.
My eyes shifted to the control panel, and that's when I noticed it. The marked trajectories. The projected routes. Those very ships were heading toward the point I had originally planned to go.
"Damn it," I muttered.
There were no more tears. Only a constant pain in my head, an uncomfortable pressure that wouldn't go away.
But something caught my attention.
This meteorite... was going in another direction.
I stared at the calculations, the lines, the overlapping vectors. Little by little, my mind began to sort itself out.
"If I go this way..." I thought more calmly, "...and according to this meteorite's trajectory, it will pass close to where I need to go eventually."
The speed increased naturally. It wasn't instantaneous, but it was steady.
"At this rate... in four months it will be faster than my ship."
Four months.
Enough time.
Time to hide.
Time to think.
Time to work.
"I could leave the meteorite without any problems when the time comes," I continued reasoning, "...and in the meantime... I can improve the ship."
The interior of the meteorite was dense, but stable. I could even go outside if I needed to. It wasn't comfortable, nor pretty, but it was safe.
"I need time," I concluded.
And I was getting it.
Before making any changes, something crossed my mind. Something I'd overlooked.
"Before..." I thought with a slight annoyance, "...I wanted to investigate the information the ship collected about that planet."
I hadn't.
I'd fallen asleep.
I closed my eyes for a moment, leaning back against the seat.
"Great, Silica... very well," I said to myself sarcastically. "A trap planet with a face and a mouth... and you fall asleep."
I sighed.
"Well... it's still there. Nothing gets erased."
I slowly opened the logs, preparing to review what the ship had managed to capture before everything went to hell.
What I found next almost made me vomit something that, had I been human, would undoubtedly have flowed out of my system without asking permission.
The supposed organic beings I had seen on the surface were nothing more than extensions of the planet itself, mere tips, fragments detached from a much larger entity. It was as if that thing had decided to tear off pieces of itself and let them wander, simulating independent life. However, those fragments were only semi-conscious, enough to move, observe, and feel, but not enough to understand their own existence.
The true horror came later.
When those parts tried to reunite, they didn't do so in a harmonious fusion or anything remotely stable. They devoured each other in a desperate attempt to become one again. And when they finally managed to unite, the hive minds didn't mesh well. They mixed violently, generating a constant overload, a perpetual pain that the planet itself seemed to inflict upon itself.
An existence based on continuous suffering.
"I don't remember going into so much detail about this shit," I thought, as a cold sweat trickled down the back of my neck while processing all that information.
Although, to be honest, with how high I was in that place, it was very likely I'd recorded even more data than I actually wanted to see again. Data that, frankly, I'd rather forget.
My head started to ache.
Maybe it was too much information, or maybe my mind was trying to protect itself from something that clearly shouldn't exist.
While I was going through the files, a completely out-of-place idea suddenly hit me.
"Mario Bros."
I blinked, surprised even by myself.
"Wait... Mario Bros. Why am I thinking about that now?"
Without wasting any more time, I went into the ship's files, more out of reflex than logic, and then I saw it.
"Oh, shit."
There was no Mario Bros., but there was a freaking Geometry Dash with the basic levels included. I stared at the screen for several seconds, trying to process the situation.
"What the hell... when did this happen?" I thought, completely baffled.
I didn't remember installing it. I didn't remember ordering it. It was simply there, as if the ship had decided on its own that it was entertainment enough for someone who had just escaped a sentient planet that was devouring itself.
"Well, I'll play later," I finally thought, resigned, as a strange feeling of weariness washed over me. Physical weariness, mental weariness, and something else harder to define, as if everything I had experienced had accumulated at once.
"Time to make some changes to the ship."
Not because I wanted to, but because I needed to. Upgrades, adjustments, reinforcements. If I was going to continue traveling alone, hidden inside a meteorite with the Empire lurking nearby, I'd better be prepared.
And so, without further ado, without farewells or heroic promises, Silica began a new journey. One more uncertain than the previous one, but at least far from that trap planet that, even from a distance, seemed to still be watching.
End of Chapter 7.