Joshua Rotzinger Mendoza's Diary
December 17, 3332
This is the final day of my experiment.
After months of tweaks, tests, and sleepless nights, the circular machine—Unicorn Prime—is finally ready. No major failures, just a few minor glitches that have already been fixed.
I just hope it actually works this time.
I press the last key on the holo-screen. The file saves with a soft digital click, and the confirmation floats in glowing green letters: "Protocol Complete." I let out a slow breath and look up toward the reinforced glass window separating my office from the main lab.
Below, the vast chamber gleams in near-clinical white, lit by floating Virtual Light (VL) screens that drift like artificial constellations.
Integrated LED panels cast a soft, shadowless glow, as if the very air had been sterilized.
My assistants move with practiced precision among the modules. They all wear the same gray jumpsuits with bright yellow stripes, and on each back, the corporate slogan stands out in stark black letters.
"Safety First. Coolers Industries."
I watch them for a moment. Some check connections, others scan readings on their holographic tablets. No one speaks more than necessary. Everyone knows what's riding on today.
...
I take a sip of the freshly dispensed synthetic coffee.
¡Pfft!
I spit it out almost instantly, grimacing in disgust.
"God, this is garbage!"
I'd take a million times over the coffee my mom or Grandma Sussie used to make. That deep, slightly bitter, comforting aroma that filled the kitchen… nothing like this processed slop. It just tastes like cheap chemicals trying—and failing miserably—to imitate the real thing. Pure synthetic crap.
I should make time to visit them next week. Come to think of it, it's been months since I've had time for myself, let alone anyone else.
I stifle a short yawn and let my gaze sweep across the lab again. As always, my eyes stop on the machine.
Unicorn Prime.
If I had to describe it, I'd say it's a massive vertical ring with gleaming silver edges, surrounded by thick cables that look almost like organic pipes. Its empty center spans nearly forty meters across—like the maw of a portal just waiting to be awakened. It emits a constant, low, bone-deep hum.
I used to compare the sound to angry insects: mosquitoes, bees, or furious wasps. But now… it sounds completely alien. Like the sound effects from those classic 20th- and 21st-century alien movies and shows—the kind only nostalgia collectors still hunt for.
...
After watching my team run the final checks on Unicorn Prime for a few minutes, I clap my hands sharply to get their attention.
"All right, team!" I call out, voice steady and firm. "Time to run the final test on this beauty!"
The scientists look up in unison. Without wasting a second, their fingers dance across holographic consoles, tapping glowing virtual switches that shimmer in the air.
Instantly, the empty center of the machine flickers. A grayish light blooms from the core and spreads like a wave. Energy builds, bathing the entire lab in an intense purple hue that tints the white walls and the assistants' gray suits.
The constant hum that had only been annoying grows sharper, deeper… more extraterrestrial. It vibrates in my chest, my teeth, my ears. With every passing second, the intensity rises until, suddenly, Unicorn Prime hits its peak.
"Check stability," I order.
"The stabilizers are holding perfectly, sir," one assistant replies instantly.
"Thank you, Winston. Gentlemen, we've successfu—"
I never finish the sentence.
A deafening alarm explodes through the lab, slicing the air like a blade. Red emergency lights flash violently, painting the white walls blood-red.
"What the hell is happening?!" I shout, heart pounding.
"S-sir… the stabilizers are failing," Winston stammers, his voice cracking.
A chill of pure horror floods my chest at those words. But the fear multiplies when I look back at Unicorn Prime.
The ring's center—once a controlled red portal—has become a chaotic vortex of torn colors: violent purples, electric blues, and blacks that seem to devour light itself. It spins faster and faster, unstable, ravenous.
I knew exactly what it meant.
If I couldn't stabilize it in the next few seconds, Unicorn Prime would detonate with enough force to wipe out several kilometers.
It would destroy the entire city… and kill millions of innocent people.
All because of me.
In a split second, I weighed my options. There was no time for hesitation.
I sprinted down the metal stairs to the main floor, where the team stood frozen before the raging vortex.
"Winston!" I yelled as I hit the last steps. "Get everyone out and evacuate the whole building! Now!"
Winston went pale.
"B-but, sir… if you stay—"
"I know," I cut him off firmly, locking eyes with him. "I'll find a way to stabilize it. Go!"
He hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded and started barking orders. One by one, the assistants abandoned their stations and ran for the emergency exits. The sound of their hurried footsteps faded beneath the wail of the alarm and the ever-wilder roar of Unicorn Prime.
I was alone in the lab.
Red lights flashed relentlessly. The swirling vortex of shredded colors spun faster, threatening to tear reality apart.
If I couldn't shut it down… I could at least limit the collateral damage.
And that collateral damage was going to be me.
...
As I finished the containment sequence, there was only one thing left to do: pray silently that my death wouldn't be too painful.
I stared at Unicorn Prime. The chaotic vortex that had threatened to consume everything slowly contracted, shrinking into a baseball-sized sphere that floated in the center of the ring, vibrating with contained, dangerous energy.
I approached slowly, heart hammering in my ears, and took it in both hands. It was hot—almost burning—but it didn't scorch. It pulsed like it had a life of its own.
"Sir, we've evacuated the entire building," Winston's voice said through my cranial audio-comm.
"Thank you, Winston," I replied, my voice low and melancholic, barely a whisper.
I said nothing more. There was no time for long goodbyes.
I hugged the small sphere tight against my chest, wrapping my arms around it completely. For a moment, I felt its irregular pulse against my body.
Then it happened.
A blinding light, brighter than a thousand suns, erupted from the core and flooded every corner of the lab. The world turned pure white.
And then… only the deepest darkness remained.
...
Or so I thought.
Because although the explosion swallowed me whole, I didn't die.
Instead, I was dragged through a wild torrent of thousands of vibrant, chaotic colors. My body was constantly torn apart and rebuilt, taking impossible shapes in every instant: bones turning to liquid, skin becoming light, consciousness shattering and reforming.
Around me, space had transformed into a multidimensional river.
Hundreds of gray strings floated by, then suddenly burst into iridescent bubbles. Between them flashed hundreds of fleeting images: visions of my doppelgängers from other universes.
I saw one where I was a humanoid horse galloping under two moons.
Another where I was a silver-haired woman, laughing in a floating city.
And one more where I was struck dead by lightning in the middle of an electric storm.
That last one struck me as the most incoherent… and the most absurd of all.
The flood of realities whipped me mercilessly. I felt my mind stretching to its limit, on the verge of snapping.
Then my body disintegrated completely.
And I plunged once more into absolute darkness.
...
I feel heat… intense heat.
Wait… I thought I was dead. How the hell can I feel heat?
Damn it! The headache is brutal. It feels like hundreds of fine, burning needles piercing my brain from every angle. It hurts like a thousand hells combined.
On top of that, I hear thousands of inhuman voices screaming at me all at once in a guttural, alien language. Their sounds press against my eardrums, twisting them, threatening to burst them. The entire world seems to vibrate inside my skull.
...
Little by little, the pain subsided.
The inhuman voices faded into distant murmurs until they vanished completely.
I opened my eyes slowly.
"I'm alive…" I murmured in a hoarse voice.
Before me rose an imposing tree whose branches and leaves glowed in impossible shades: deep violets, fiery reds, and golden yellows that seemed to shift with the light.
It was the first time in my life I had ever seen anything like it.
I stood paralyzed for several seconds, taking in its peculiarities. What struck me most were its fruits… they were perfectly square! Geometric cubes hanging like tiny shining blocks among the leaves.
...
I pressed my right palm against the grayish grass—which felt strangely soft and warm under my fingers—and pushed myself to my feet with difficulty.
I began walking unsteadily through that strange place, observing everything around me. The plants, trees, and local flora were completely unlike anything I'd ever seen on Earth: impossible shapes, colors outside our spectrum, textures that seemed almost alive.
Everything here was… alien.
...
But the strangest part was only just beginning.
In the distance, among the alien vegetation, I saw something no Earth scientist could possibly believe.
A floating tree, suspended several meters above the ground with no visible roots. Its trunk and main branches had a metallic silver tone that reflected light in an unreal way, while its scarlet leaves waved gently, as if breathing. From its branches hung spherical fruits that weren't solid: inside them shone tiny stars and entire constellations, spinning in miniature like living galaxies.
It took my breath away.
But that wasn't all.
Suddenly, the tree began to transform. Its vegetal form dissolved into pure white light that shifted constantly: in one instant it became plants of impossible shapes, in the next ethereal creatures I had never seen, and then geometric structures that defied all known logic.
It was as if reality itself was dreaming right before my eyes.
Until, finally, it emitted a great blinding flash.
I covered my face with both arms and squeezed my eyelids shut.
When I dared to open my eyes again, the entity had changed completely.
Now floating before me was an imposing four-dimensional cube. Inside it, hundreds of identical luminous cubes moved in perfect harmony, rotating, sliding, and intertwining like pieces of a living, impossible puzzle.
Each movement created hypnotic patterns that defied Euclidean geometry.
It was like a giant Rubik's Cube… but infinitely more complex.
It was a tesseract.
I couldn't hold it back.
An euphoric laugh burst from my throat—loud and genuine—as tears of awe blurred my vision.
"Fascinating…" I whispered, almost breathless.