The next evening, after the engineers had retired to their quarters, Cornelius asked to speak with us privately.

  He'd showered and changed into something more formal. The shift felt deliberate. This wasn't the casual companion from the pool; this was the Ecclesiarch agent with important things to say.

  We gathered in the conference room. Cornelius folded his hands on the table.

  "You asked what protection I was offering," he began. "The answer requires context."

  Rosalia and I exchanged a glance. We'd been waiting for this.

  "Go on," she said.

  Cornelius took a breath.

  "There is a faction within the Church of Enlightened Knowledge. They call themselves the Adepts of Absolute Truth." A pause. "Officially, they are only a minor faction within the Church, without any real power."

  "Unofficially?"

  "Unofficially, they are zealots, and they have significant influence both within the Ecclesiarch and within the scientific community. The Church of Enlightened Knowledge seeks understanding of the universe as the path to enlightenment. Most practitioners pursue this with ethical frameworks, oversight, patience." His expression hardened subtly. "The Adepts believe that complete understanding of the underlying principles of reality is the only path to enlightenment. They believe such understanding will grant them ascension to higher realms of existence. And they believe that any ethical constraint is an obstacle to that sacred goal. Any limitation on experimentation is heresy to them."

  Zealots who think science experiments are a religious duty. With no ethical limits.

  "That sounds terrifying," I said.

  "It is." Cornelius met my eyes. "And they are responsible for your arrival in this universe."

  The words hung in the air.

  "What?"

  "The incident that brought you here. The catastrophe that killed twenty thousand people and left over a million in comas." His voice was steady, but there was weight beneath it. "That was their experiment. Their attempt to pierce the barriers between realities."

  My mouth went dry. "They were trying to..."

  "To open a portal to another universe. And they succeeded." A pause. "Briefly."

  I sat back in my chair, processing. I had no memory of anything. I went to sleep on a couch and woke up in a medical pod.

  "So... they're going to come looking for me?" I said.

  "Yes."

  "How long do I have?"

  "Unknown. But they will find you eventually." Cornelius spread his hands. "Let me explain in more detail what happened. What you are. It will help you understand the danger."

  I nodded, not trusting my voice.

  "The Adepts built a device capable of tearing a temporary hole between universes. The portal was catastrophically unstable. When it opened, there was an influx of what we call psionic energy. We don't really know what it is, but it has the potential to rewrite reality. It is will made manifest." He paused. "The quantities were beyond anything in recorded history. Enough to overwhelm every psionic sensor on half the planet. Enough to kill everyone within three kilometers of the device instantly. Enough to burn out the minds of a million people across the surrounding city. It generated a wave of psychic trurbulence that was felt across the galaxy."

  "But the energy was not random," Cornelius continued. "Every sensate felt consciousnesses in the psionic perturbation." He looked at me directly. "You were part of that."

  I found myself leaning forward.

  "The psionic energy accompanied you during transit. It clung to you like static charge, carried you through the void between realities. And when you finally stopped moving. When you emerged somewhere in this universe. Then that energy had to go somewhere."

  "The Mahkkra," I whispered as it dawned on me. "The station."

  "Your unconscious mind shaped the discharge. Years of accumulated desires, dreams, memories. All the things you wanted most deeply. Everything made manifest in an instant." Cornelius gestured at the walls around us. "This station should not exist. Your ship should not exist. But they do, because the energy that carried you here created them from your subconscious."

  The room was very quiet.

  "So the Mahkkra is... my subconscious desire made real?"

  "In a very literal sense, yes. The psionic signature is identical to your own." Cornelius leaned forward slightly. "I have been sensing it since I arrived. When I first stepped aboard the Mahkkra, the... static, for lack of a better term... the radiation it emits is the same as what I sense from you. They are connected. You created them, and they still carry your imprint."

  "And that's how they'll find me."

  "Yes. The initial event left traces. They form patterns in the psionic fabric of the region. The Adepts are already studying those patterns, trying to extrapolate where whatever came through might have emerged. It is only a matter of time before their search narrows." He paused. "And if they ever encounter you directly, your radiation will tell them immediately what you are. The Mahkkra will tell them. This station will tell them. Everything you created screams your presence to anyone who knows how to listen."

  I'm basically a walking beacon.

  "How much time?" I asked. "Before it fades enough to hide?"

  "The radiation will take decades to dissipate and blend with background galactic energies. Perhaps longer."

  I sat back in my chair, trying to make my brain catch up.

  "What? How?" I managed.

  "Every church explains this phenomenon in their own way," Cornelius continued. "It is worth understanding how, in case you encounter their adherents."

  "Go ahead."

  "The Omniversal Consciousness believes in the Unanimity: a higher-dimensional communion linking all minds across existence. To them, you are proof of that connection. The psionic energies latched onto your consciousness because consciousness is fundamentally connected across all realities. Your mind acted as a beacon, drawing the energy through the universal web of awareness." He paused. "They would view you with great interest, but mostly as a philosophical curiosity. Harmless, academically."

  "And the Inner Light?"

  "Similar, but more personal. We believe the energy latched onto your deepest desires. To your authentic self, the wants and needs buried in your subconscious. To us, you experienced a kind of accelerated transcendence. Your inner truth made manifest." A slight smile. "This is one of the reasons why I want to be part of your crew. I would like to counsel you. Help you understand what your creations reveal about your soul. I would call us relatively harmless to you too."

  Great. Cosmic therapy sessions.

  "The Church of the Glorious Will sees it differently," Cornelius continued. "Their core belief is that will shapes reality. Righteous action and determined purpose can bend the universe toward desired outcomes. To them, what happened to you is simply proof of their creed. The psionic energy did not create anything. It merely amplified your will, made your determination tangible. They would view you as an exemplar of what focused intention can accomplish."

  "That sounds almost flattering."

  "It is meant to be. The Glorious Will tends toward admiration rather than suspicion." He shifted in his seat. "The Church of the Absolute is... more complicated."

  "How so?"

  "They are the only explicitly theistic church. They believe in divine beings. Gods who are real but fundamentally unknowable. To them, your transit between universes means you passed through the realms of higher powers." His voice grew more careful. "And the possessions you manifested? The ship, the station, everything you needed to survive? They would interpret those as blessings. Gifts from the divine, granted to ensure your survival and success."

  I frowned. "That doesn't sound too bad."

  "The problem is the implications." Cornelius met my eyes. "If higher beings blessed you with exactly what you needed... why? For what purpose? Some Absolutist synods might view you as merely fortunate. Others might view you as chosen. Marked for some divine purpose." He let that sink in. "In extreme cases, they might consider you a prophet. Or worse. A messiah."

  What? Me? The guy whose greatest achievements were in a virtual world.

  "That sounds like it could get messy," I said.

  "Extremely messy. The empire would not appreciate it and would get involved. It is called the Gra'Xian Holy Galactic Empire for a reason. They would not welcome a messiah-like figure suddenly appearing and possibly challenging their holiness. I would advise keeping a low profile around Absolutist clergy. "

  "Noted." I filed that under 'things to absolutely avoid.'

  "The Sons of Man present a different concern," Cornelius continued, his tone cooling slightly. "They believe in human exceptionalism. That humanity is divinely or historically destined for galactic stewardship. Their interpretation would be similar to the Glorious Will's. Human will shaping reality, human determination manifesting tangible results."

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  "But?"

  "But the fact that you specifically accomplished this, as a human, not an Eluan or a Krix'tinh or any other species. That, would be interpreted as proof of humanity's inherent superiority." His expression was carefully neutral. "They would likely attempt to recruit you. Use your story as propaganda for their cause."

  "So avoid them too."

  "Be cautious, at minimum. They are not dangerous in the same way the Adepts are, but they could make your life very complicated if they decide you are useful to their agenda."

  I ran through the list in my head. Omniversalists: curious but harmless. Inner Light: therapy sessions. Glorious Will: fan club. Absolutists: might think I'm Jesus. Sons of Man: might use me as a recruitment poster.

  "What about the Church of Enlightened Knowledge?" I asked. "The mainstream version, not the Adepts."

  Cornelius shrugged. "They would admit they do not know. Which, for them, is the worst possible answer."

  "Why?"

  "Because not knowing means they need to find out. The mainstream Church is more ethical than the Adepts, yes. They would not kidnap you or perform involuntary experiments. But they would be very persistent in requesting your cooperation for studies. Interviews. Tests. Observations." His expression darkened. "And within their ranks, the Adepts would be watching. Waiting for an opportunity."

  "So they're the most dangerous."

  "By far. The other churches might make your life inconvenient or complicated. The Adepts of Absolute Truth?" He leaned forward slightly. "They see a research opportunity. A mind that somehow survived transit between universes, carrying unprecedented amounts of psionic energy. To them, you are not a person. You are a specimen. An experiment waiting to happen. And they have already killed twenty thousand people and destroyed millions of lives in pursuit of knowledge. They will not hesitate to do worse to study you."

  The word hung in the air. Specimen.

  "Can we stop them?" Rosalia asked, her voice sharp.

  "The Adepts are deeply embedded within the Church's hierarchy, protected by powerful interests. Stopping them is beyond our capabilities." Cornelius met my eyes. "But they can be avoided. Outmaneuvered. I have contacts who can warn us of their movements. We can stay ahead of them if we are careful."

  The silence stretched.

  Then Cornelius spoke again, his voice careful: "There is something else you should know."

  Something in his tone made me go very still.

  "When describing the incident that brought you here, I told you that 'consciousness' was sensed. I was deliberately vague. More than one consciousness was felt. You are not alone."

  For a moment, everything stopped.

  "Multiple consciousnesses crossed over. We sensed more than one consciousness during the event. " He paused.

  "Others?" I sat up straighter. "Others came through with me?"

  "Yes. Scattered at the moment of transit. We do not know how many survived the crossing, or in what condition."

  Rosalia was watching me carefully. "You think your friends are here? The ones you told me about?"

  "Maybe. Probably!" The words tumbled out, excitement building in my chest. "Lucas. Jeremy. We were all in the same room. Claire. Margaret. They were right across the corridor. We were all in the same house. If I came through, they might have too... I mean the physical proximity... If more than one person crossed they came with me... I'm sure of it. It has to be them."

  They could be here. In this universe. Living the dream right alongside me.

  A grin spread across my face before I could stop it. "This is... this is amazing. Do you understand what this means?"

  Rosalia and Cornelius exchanged glances. Clearly, they had expected a different reaction.

  "Nicolas," Rosalia said carefully, "they could be anywhere. They could be in danger. They might not have... "

  "They're fine," I said, waving off her concern. "Trust me. If anyone can handle getting dropped into a sci-fi universe, it's those four. I'm good, and yes, I was the best pilot ever in the game, but for everything else, I was the one dragging them down. They're more capable than me. There's no way they're not thriving."

  Despite my reassurance, a flicker of worry crossed my mind. What if they're not okay? What if they landed somewhere dangerous?

  But I pushed it aside. These were my people. The ones who'd spent thousands of hours mastering every system Life Among the Stars threw at us. The ones who'd theory-crafted builds until three in the morning, who'd coordinated raids across time zones, who'd turned a game into a second life.

  If anyone was built for this, it's us.

  "I need to find them," I said. "You have to understand... This place, this universe... it's everything we ever dreamed about. The adventure we always wanted. And I want to share it with them."

  Cornelius nodded slowly. "The Ecclesiarch's network spans the galaxy. When you are ready to search, I can help."

  "That's..." I felt something warm bloom in my chest. Hope. Real, tangible hope. "Thank you. Seriously."

  We're going to have the best reunion ever. I can already picture Lucas's face when he sees the Mahkkra.

  But first, get citizenship and register with the mercenary guild. then I can search for them.

  I was smiling so hard my jaws started to hurt. Then another thought hit me.

  "Hold on a minute." I said. "Let's rewind. I was too stunned to react but... I was unconscious when I got god powers, and I used them to make a really cool spaceship?"

  Cornelius nodded. "That is one way to phrase it..."

  "My deepest subconscious desire wasn't love. Wasn't wealth or power. It was a fighter ship." I shook my head. "I'm not sure if that says something good or terrible about me."

  Rosalia's voice was dry: "It says you are exactly who you appeared to be."

  "A gamer to the core?"

  "An enthusiast with clear priorities."

  Something loosened in my chest. Dark humor helping where nothing else could.

  Rosalia straightened. "We discussed your proposal while you were with the engineers."

  Cornelius waited.

  "You have proven your skills are real. You have information we need. And you have just offered something more valuable than either."

  "A way to find my friends," I said.

  "Yes."

  Cornelius looked between us. "Is that a yes?"

  I stood and extended my hand. "Partners. Equal shares, equal votes. We use a modified guild system. It used to be fifty-fifty splits, now thirds. And something called DKP for non-monetary rewards, but I'll explain that later."

  Cornelius took my hand, bemused. "I have no idea what DKP means."

  "Don't worry. Neither did Rosalia at first."

  We shook.

  Then I froze mid-shake. Groaned.

  "Oh no."

  "What?"

  "If Lucas is here, he's going to find out about our partnership contract eventually." I released Cornelius's hand, looking genuinely pained. "He has two PhDs in law. Two. He did consulting work for the studio that made Life Among the Stars, helping them build the legal framework for in-game commerce and contracts. Maritime law adapted for space travel. The man weaves legal theory into everything he does."

  "That sounds... thorough," Cornelius offered.

  "You don't understand. He's going to go over every single clause. Every word. Every comma." I put my head in my hands. "He's going to find seventeen different ways our contract is suboptimal or could be abused and he's never going to let me hear the end of it."

  Rosalia and Cornelius exchanged glances.

  But I was already moving on, pacing with new energy: "We need to get moving. Citizenship, guild membership, build up resources, then start searching."

  The grief and hope had turned into momentum.

  I turned to Cornelius.

  "Okay. I will explain in more detail how I envision the crew working. But first, I have to give you more details on Life Among the Stars. You will love it..."

  He did. Eventually.

  At first, he wasn't really interested. The description of a space simulation and video game seemed alien to him, disconnected from the reality of this world. He tried to look engaged, nodding at appropriate intervals, but I could tell my recounting of adventures in a virtual world wasn't landing.

  But then I got to the social dynamics.

  His posture shifted when I explained how guilds worked, how we coordinated efforts, shared resources, built structures of mutual support across dozens of players. His eyes sharpened when I described the duty rotations, the incentive systems, the way we balanced individual rewards against collective goals.

  "Wait," he said, holding up a hand. "So, this 'DKP' system, you used it to track individual contributions over time, allowing members to bid on rewards proportional to their accumulated effort?"

  "Exactly. It prevented arguments about who deserved what. Everything was transparent, everything was earned."

  "And people accepted this? They did not game the system, inflate their contributions, undermine each other?"

  "Some tried. But the community was self-policing. Bad actors got kicked out. Good faith effort got recognized." I shrugged. "It wasn't perfect, but it worked surprisingly well for years."

  Cornelius was quiet for a moment, processing.

  "I see," he said finally. "The system makes sense for a small organization. It is... elegant, in its simplicity." A pause. "It feels a bit naive for the real world, but I'm willing to try it. You would have to be very careful with who you invite into your crew. Not everyone will accept working within such a framework."

  "Yeah, I know. It requires a certain kind of trust."

  Eager but skeptical. Fair enough.

  The remaining days passed in a rhythm that felt almost natural.

  The engineers finished their work on the Reizen, restoring her to better-than-new condition. Cornelius was among them more often than not, sleeves rolled up, getting his hands dirty alongside the professionals.

  One night, I stood at a viewport in the station's observation deck, watching the asteroids tumble through the void.

  Where are they?

  Lucas. Jeremy. Claire. Margaret.

  I'll find them. However long it takes. Somehow.

  That determination carried me through as we loaded the Reizen's cargo hold. We did it slowly, carefully, and discreetly. Rare metals. Exotic elements. The hoarded treasures of thirteen years of gaming, ready to be converted into actual money.

  We worked in shifts, with Cornelius helping with the loading while the Navy crew handled other duties. The engineers seemed trustworthy, but this was a literal fortune. Better not to tempt fate.

  Rosalia oversaw everything with quiet satisfaction.

  "This will not be enough to finance the carrier we envisioned." she said, watching another crate settle into place. "But it is a huge step forward."

  By the time final preparations were complete, the Mahkkra waited in her berth, gleaming under the hangar lights. Ship assignments were simple: me in the Mahkkra, Rosalia and Cornelius in the Reizen, with the Navy frigate as escort.

  I settled into the Mahkkra's cockpit and marveled at the commands.

  No wonder it felt like it was made for me. It literally was.

  Through the viewport, Hyperion Deep hung against the stars. Three times I'd come back here. Three times I'd felt trapped.

  Not this time.

  I opened the comm: "Mahkkra speaking. Ready for departure."

  Rosalia's voice: "Confirmed. Setting course for Varkesh Prime."

  Cornelius: "Coordinates locked. See you on the other side."

  I had a crew now. A plan. Friends to find and a ship to buy.

  "Alright," I said. "Let's go."

  The Mahkkra's engines flared, and Hyperion Deep fell away behind me.