I am The Endless Expanse, the weaver of lore,
A storm that speaks from every shore.
I stretch and thunder, relentless and wide,
Telling the secrets the shadows hide.

Mountains quake with the tales I scream,
Forests shiver with stories that gleam.
From city ruins to wasteland dust,
I breathe legends, both fierce and just.

I speak in fire, I speak in stone,
I’m the voice that chills to the bone.
Oceans rage with my ancient verse,
Deserts crackle with whispers that curse.

A living archive, a boundless roar,
I am the past, future, and more.
I span the edges where chaos calls,
The Endless Expanse, where every story falls.

Initializing mainframe...

Loading Log #178...

Decrypting...

Access complete.

>>> System override initiated...

>>> Destination set: Helios-Star-9 (collision course).

Greta’s robotic hands, polished and precise, swept over the console, finalizing the ship’s course with a few decisive commands. She leaned into the camera, eyes shadowed but sincere.

"Hello... crew. I hope the party was a good one. I did my best to make it special," she said, voice softening. "I genuinely enjoyed our time together—you’re like a family to me."

Turning to her workstation, the electric-blue glow of the microscope bathed her face in an eerie light. Under the lens, the alien specimen writhed, its translucent tendrils reacting to the shift. With careful precision, she drew the liquid into a syringe, the opalescent fluid shimmering within. Greta tapped the syringe with a finger, watching as the substance stirred, agitating the alien cells until they pulsed vibrantly.

"The reward’s just too good," she whispered, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "And you know I’ve never been one for sharing."

She looked back at the recording. "The incubation period should be no longer than about 30 minutes. I hope your slumber is long and peaceful, crew."

Turning to Yumi, who padded up with a contented purr, Greta’s expression softened. She ran a metallic hand over the cat’s white fur. "Make this whole stunt worth it, will you?" she murmured, almost tenderly.

With a smooth motion, she brought the syringe closer to Yumi's eye, her voice dropping to a chilling tone. "This might sting a little."

End of Log #178.