I Was Sent on a Space Mission. I'm the Only One Left.

Hello and welcome back to another episode by Sleepy Pasta. Before you doze off tonight, don't forget to leave a five star review and a comment where you are watching from. Let's begin. I woke up with a start. The ceiling above me was blurry, my muscles were stiff and my throat burned.

The cryopod hummed as the glass cover slid open. Easy there, Commander Rogers, take it slow. A woman's voice came from somewhere to my left. I tried to turn my head, but my neck muscles refused to cooperate. A face appeared above me, dark hair pulled back, Hazel eyes studying me with clinical interest.

I'm Doctor Webb. Genesis Webb, you're experiencing standard post cryogenic disorientation. She pressed something cool against my neck. This should help with the physical symptoms. Warmth spread through my body.

The stiffness in my limbs faded, and I moved my head to look around. I was in the recovery Bay of the Proxima, surrounded by white walls and medical equipment. Water. I managed to croak. Genesis handed me a small cup with a straw.

The liquid felt like heaven against my raw throat. How long? I asked, my voice still rough. She checked something on her tablet. You've been under for longer than expected.

There were complications. I pushed myself up to sitting position, my head spinning slightly with the effort. Complications. What about the rest of the crew? Did we reach Proxima Centauri?

Genesis set her tablet down and looked at me directly. Her expression shifted to something more solemn. I'm sorry, Commander. The mission didn't achieve its primary objective. The ship never reached Proxima Centauri.

An anomaly in deep space redirected the vessel back toward Earth. I shook my head, trying to process her words. That's not possible. Our trajectory was fixed. The navigation systems were compromised by something we've never encountered before.

She finished the ship's AI, initiated emergency protocols, and returned to Earth. I swung my legs over the side of the pod, ignoring the protest from my muscles. Where's Russell? And Lillian? I need to speak with my crew.

Genesis placed a hand on my shoulder, keeping me seated. Her grip was firmer than I expected. Commander Rogers, Timothy, I need you to prepare yourself. She paused, her face showing practiced sympathy. You're the only survivor.

The other cryopods malfunctioned during the return journey. The rest of your crew didn't make it. The words hit hard. Russell, my right hand since training. Lillian, passionate about alien biology.

Sage who could fix anything. All gone. That's not. I couldn't finish the sentence. My chest felt hollow.

I know this is difficult to process, Genesis said, her voice softening. But right now, we need to focus on your recovery and adjustment. I want to see them, I said, my voice barely audible. Their remains were processed according to protocol months ago, she replied. I'm sorry, but there was nothing to be done.

I sat in stunned silence, trying to make sense of it all. The mission, the crew, everything I'd known gone in what felt like an instant to me, but had apparently been much longer. How long have I been back? I finally asked. The ship returned to Earth orbit 8 months ago.

You've been kept in stasis while we assessed your condition. Genesis moved across the room and gestured toward a large viewport I hadn't noticed before, perhaps seeing Mike. Genesis moved across the room and gestured toward a large viewport I hadn't noticed before. Perhaps seeing might help you understand the situation better. I stood and made my way to where she waited.

My first glimpse of Earth nearly knocked me down. The blue planet looked wrong. Massive structures orbited in unfamiliar patterns, silver installations that weren't there when we left, some connected by light lines, creating a network around sections of the planet. What am I looking at? I asked, pressing my palm against the cold glass.

Earth, of course, though I imagine it looks quite different from when you left those structures. What are they? Neural relay stations, Genesis explained. They're part of the global communication network. Humanity has evolved.

While you were away, Commander. We've developed more efficient ways to connect. I stared at the transformed planet below us. How long was I gone? Genesis checked her tablet again.

Your mission launched 58 years ago. The number hit me like a punch to the gut. 58 years. Everyone I knew would be dead or elderly. My parents, my friends, my life.

All gone. The world has changed significantly, Genesis continued. Neural implant technology has revolutionized how we communicate and process information. Most citizens received their first implant by age 12. Now I turned away from the window, suddenly feeling light headed.

Neural implants, small devices that interface directly with the brain. She tapped her temple. They allow instant access to information, communication without speaking, and integration with all electronic systems. It's made society far more efficient. I sat by the viewport, trying to understand.

My crew was dead. Earth had changed. I was alone in a strange world. This is a lot, I said, running my hands through my hair, surprised to find it longer than regulation length. Of course it is.

Genesis sat across from me. That's why I'm here to help with your transition. The adjustment period for temporal displacement cases can be challenging. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silver disc about the size of 1/4. This is a basic neural implant.

It's designed specifically for integration cases like yours. It will help you understand our current society and give you access to basic information networks. I eyed the device warily. You want to put that in my head? It adheres to the temple.

The interface is minimally invasive microscopic filaments that connect to your neural pathways. She held it out to me. Without it, you'll find adjustment nearly impossible. Imagine trying to function in a world where everyone communicates telepathically and you're still using spoken language. I looked from the disc to Genesis's face, searching for any reason not to trust her.

My instincts told me to be cautious, but what choice did I have? I was a relic in this new world. Will it hurt? I asked. There's momentary discomfort during the initial neural mapping.

After that, most users report a sense of expansion rather than pain. I took a deep breath. OK, do it. Genesis smiled slightly. Good choice.

She moved behind me and brushed my hair aside. I felt her fingers press the cool metal disc against my right temple. This will only take a moment, she said. Try to relax. The pain was blinding.

Not the momentary discomfort she had described, but agony that shot through my skull. I couldn't scream. My vision filled with flashing images, unfamiliar faces, corridors I'd never walked, a guard in an unknown uniform collapsing to the floor. These weren't my memories. Through the pain, I saw Genesis face fierce and determined.

Her hands were bloody. She typed codes into a security panel and stole the uniform she wore with horrifying clarity. I understood. Genesis wasn't a doctor. This wasn't a rescue.

I tried to stand, to pull the disc from my temple, but my body wouldn't respond. Genesis held another device in her hand, now pointed directly at me. I wouldn't try to move if I were you, she said, her voice entirely different now. Harder, colder. Neural inhibitor, quite effective at paralyzing the voluntary nervous system.

I could still breathe, still blink, but nothing else would respond to my commands. I sat frozen in the chair, my mind racing but my body completely helpless. You're not a doctor. I managed to say, my lips barely moving. Genesis's mouth curved into a small smile.

No, Commander Rogers, I'm not, and this isn't exactly a recovery mission, either. She leaned closer, her eyes now alight with something that looked disturbingly like triumph. But you and I are going to accomplish something remarkable together all the same. I felt myself being dragged across the floor, my legs useless beneath me. Genesis had her arm under my shoulder, half carrying me toward a chair in the center of the room.

My head pounded with each movement, the implant at my temple burning like a hot coal pressed against my skin. Sit. She ordered, though it wasn't as if I had a choice. She dropped me into the chair, my body slumping forward. I could blink, I could breathe, but everything else remained beyond my control.

The neural inhibitor in her hand kept my muscles locked in paralysis. Memories that weren't mine invaded my thoughts. Genesis strapped to a table in a white room, screaming as technicians approached with a device like the one on my temple. Guards and Gray uniforms watched later. Genesis lay still, her eyes vacant as a doctor gave commands.

Her body obeyed automatically. What's happening to me? I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper. Genesis looked at me with narrowed eyes. The neural link is establishing faster than expected.

You're seeing my memories. Genesis worked at the implant on her temple with makeshift tools in her cell. When Guard Edward opened the door with food, she attacked, stabbing his neck with something sharp. She took his key card and weapon as blood covered her hands. You killed him, I said.

I freed myself. She checked something on a small device she pulled from her pocket. And now I'm going to free all of us. The images continued, revealing the truth piece by piece. This wasn't Earth.

The curved windows I'd seen earlier didn't look out on our home planet, but at a projection screen designed to ease the transition for integration cases. Like me, we were on a military station, a prison of sorts. The Proxima never made it to Centauri, did it? I asked. Genesis paused, studying me.

No, but not for the reasons I told you. Then what happened? Your ship encountered something out there. She came closer, her face inches from mine. Something that attached itself to your vessel.

When the Proxima returned to our solar system, military forces intercepted it. They've been studying both the ship and what it brought back for decades. My crew dead, as I said, but not from cryopod failures. She turned away. Their bodies were intact.

Their minds were not. I tried to process this information, but more of Genesis's memories kept bleeding into mine. I saw her planning her escape, watching guard rotations, studying the station's layout through stolen glimpses of security monitors. The door opened. Three people entered in Gray uniforms, two men and a woman.

Their faces showed the same vacant expression I'd seen in Genesis's memories after the implant procedure. Medical team reporting as requested, said the older man with graying hair. Through the neural connection, I learned they weren't medical staff but fellow prisoners. Daniel Cook was a physicist, Anna Mae a computer engineer, and Miguel Harrington a communications specialist.

Like Genesis, they were controlled by implants similar to the one on my temple. Perfect timing, Genesis said, her voice taking on the clinical tone she'd used when I first woke up. Prepare the subject for transfer to the research wing. They gathered equipment from cabinets along the wall. None of them questioned why I was restrained or why Genesis held a weapon.

They don't know who they are, I realized aloud. No, Genesis confirmed. Their implants are fully integrated, they believe their medical staff. They'll follow any command given by someone they recognize as authority. Daniel approached with a tray of medical instruments.

Without warning, Genesis raised her weapon and fired. A blue pulse of energy hit him in the chest. He collapsed to the floor, his body twitching before going still and I gasped. Miguel froze in place. That was unnecessary, I said, horrified.

It was entirely necessary. Genesis pointed the weapon at Anna. His implant was showing signs of degradation. Security would have noticed during the next scan. She gestured toward the door with the weapon.

You 2, We're moving to the Control Center now, but protocol requires. Anna began. New protocol. Genesis cut her off. Move.

Miguel and Anna exchanged uncertain glances but complied, stepping over Daniel's body as if it were merely an obstacle. Genesis turned to me, a cold smile on her face. Your turn, commander. The implant at my temple sent tingles down my neck and into my limbs. My body responded to her commands, not mine.

My legs straightened, my arms pushed against the chair. I stood up. What are you doing to me? I asked, panic rising as I watched my body move without my permission. Taking control.

Genesis answered. The paralysis was temporary, just until the implant could establish proper neural pathways. Now you'll do exactly what I want, when I want it. I tried to resist, to force my legs to stop, to make my arms move according to my will. Nothing happened.

My body followed Genesis toward the door, as if pulled by invisible strings. Why me? I managed to ask as we stepped into the corridor. Why not just use them? I nodded toward Miguel and Anna, who walked ahead of us with the same vacant expressions.

Because you're special, Commander Rogers. Genesis kept her weapon trained on my back as we walked. You were on the Proxima, you made contact with the Entity, and most importantly, you weren't born into this neural controlled world. Your brain works differently. The entity responds to you.

We moved through the station corridors, passing doors and checkpoints at each one. Genesis used her stolen credentials or forced Miguel to use his access codes. My body followed while my mind screamed in rebellion. With each step, I felt the neural connection between Genesis and me growing stronger. Her thoughts, her plans, her hatred for the military that had imprisoned her, all of it leaked into my consciousness.

She didn't just want freedom, she wanted revenge. And somehow, I was the key to her getting both. I walked beside Genesis, my legs moving forward against my will. The neural implant at my temple burned hot, a constant reminder of the invasion inside my head. My body wasn't mine anymore.

It belonged to her. Almost there. Genesis said, her voice low as she kept her weapon trained on my back. Keep walking naturally through our neural connection. Fragments of her plan leaked into my consciousness.

The entity they'd found attached to the Proxima, my ship. It wasn't just alien, it was something else entirely, Something that could interface with and control electronic systems. You're catching on quickly, Commander Genesis said, noticing my thoughts through our link. That's exactly why you're so valuable. The entity responds to you ahead of us, Anna and Miguel walked with the vacant expressions of the neural controlled.

Their movements were mechanical, programmed just like mine, except I was still fully aware, trapped inside my own body. The military has been studying it for decades. Genesis continued, her thoughts bleeding into mine. They found it could manipulate electronic signals, interface with computer systems. Imagine what that power could do in the right hands.

In her mind, I saw her plan unfold. She didn't just want to escape. She wanted to use the entity as a weapon against the neural network that controlled society. Freedom was just the beginning. We turned down a corridor I hadn't seen before.

The lighting changed, becoming more subdued with red warning strips along the floor. At the end stood a heavy door marked RESTRICTED RESEARCH in bold letters. Genesis nudged Miguel forward. Input your access code. Miguel stepped up to the panel, his movements robotic as he pressed his palm against the scanner and typed in a sequence.

The door slid open with a heavy pneumatic hiss. Good. Genesis said. Anna, stay by the door. Alert us if anyone approaches.

Anna took position without question, her eyes fixed straight ahead. Genesis pushed me forward into the room. Time to meet your old friend, Commander. The chamber before us was massive, circular, with workstations arranged in concentric rings around a central containment unit. But it wasn't the room that caught my attention.

It was what pulsed inside the transparent cylinder at the center. The entity. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen, a luminescent mass that continuously shifted shape, never settling on a single form. It glowed with an inner light that pulsed in patterns too complex to follow. The tendrils of energy reached out, pressing against the transparent barriers of its prison, then retreating, only to reach out again in different directions.

Beautiful, isn't it? Genesis said, her voice tinged with awe as she guided me closer. They've been trying to communicate with it for years, but it only responds to electronic systems. And to you, apparently, through our link. And I felt her excitement and something darker, a hunger for retribution.

The entity attached itself to your ship because it recognized something. She continued, moving us toward a control terminal. The neural implants they've put in everyone, they're based on technology derived from studying this thing. But you're different. You weren't born into this world.

Your brain works differently. Genesis forced me to sit at the terminal while she kept the weapon pointed at my head. She began typing commands, her fingers flying across the interface. I'm going to release it, she said. And you're going to help me communicate with it through our mental link, I saw deeper into her plan.

She didn't just want to escape the station. She wanted to unleash chaos. The entity could potentially disrupt the entire neural network, freeing millions from control but also causing widespread panic and death. Genesis didn't care about the collateral damage. After years of imprisonment and experimentation, revenge consumed her.

They deserve everything that's coming, she muttered, sensing my horror. They took my life, my mind. They deserve to know what that feels like. As she worked, I remembered something. A training session with Lillian May, our xenobiologist.

She had studied theoretical neural pathway resistance, preparing us for potential alien contact that might affect our minds. Focus on one small action, Lillian had said during that training. One finger, one muscle build. From there, I concentrated on my right index finger. Just that, nothing else.

I pushed against Genesis control with everything I had, focusing all my mental energy on that single digit. For several agonizing seconds, nothing happened. Genesis continued typing, oblivious to my internal struggle. The entity pulsed faster in its chamber, as if sensing the imminent change. Then I felt it.

The slightest twitch. My finger moved just a millimetre, but it was mine. I kept focusing, blocking out everything else. The alarms that would sound if I succeeded, the punishment Genesis would inflict. None of it mattered.

I just needed control of that one finger. The finger moved again, more decisively this time. I had it. Genesis was too absorbed in her work to notice the emergency panel was just inches from my hand. Through our neural link, I'd absorbed knowledge from Genesis's memories, including military code systems used on the station.

With tremendous effort, I stretched my finger toward the panel. Each millimeter felt like pushing through concrete. Genesis continued typing, her attention fixed on the containment protocols. My finger reached the panel. I tapped out a message in military code.

Prisoner Escape Entity Breach Section 42 B. The moment I finished, alarms blared throughout the station. Red emergency lights bathed the room in a Crimson glow. Genesis whipped around, her eyes wide with shock and furious. She realized what I'd done.

You. She screamed, raising her weapon toward me as the station security protocols activated around us. I watched Genesis's face as the realization hit her. Her eyes widened, then narrowed with fury as the station alarms blared around us. The red emergency lights cast harsh shadows across her features, transforming her expression into something almost inhuman.

You. She snarled, raising her weapon and aiming it directly at my head. My finger had done its job. The rest of my body remained locked under her neural control, but I'd manage that one small act of rebellion now. I could only watch as she prepared to kill me.

The doors behind her burst open with a hydraulic hiss. Genesis started to turn, but she was too late. A-Team of security officers in black tactical gear poured into the room, led by a tall man with close cropped salt and pepper hair. Their weapons were already drawn, sleek devices that looked nothing like any gun I'd ever seen.

Down weapons down. The leader shouted. Genesis pivoted, trying to aim at the new threat, but three officers fired simultaneously. Blue energy pulses, the same kind Genesis had used on Daniel, struck her body. She jerked violently, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she collapsed to the floor.

The neural link between us snapped like an overstretched rubber band. The sudden disconnection sent a shock of pain through my skull, but the relief of regaining control of my body was immediate. I gasped as my muscles became my own again, no longer puppeted by Genesis's will. I fell forward out of the chair, barely catching myself on my hands and knees.

My limbs shook with the strain of supporting my weight after being under someone else's control. I gulped air, feeling like I just surfaced after being held underwater. Secure the prisoners. The leader ordered as his team moved toward Anna and Miguel, who stood motionless, their faces blank despite the chaos. The security team formed a protective ring around the containment chamber, where the entity pulsed and shifted.

It's luminescent tendrils seemed more agitated now, pressing against the transparent walls of its prison. As if sensing the commotion, a woman in a medical uniform rushed to my side, kneeling beside me on the floor. She had Auburn hair pulled back in a tight bun and alert green eyes that quickly assessed my condition.

Commander Rogers? I'm Doctor Crystal Hernandez. Her voice was steady and calm amid the chaos. She gently touched my arm, helping me into a sitting position. Try to stay still.

That implant has integrated with your frontal lobe. We need to remove it carefully. I raised a shaking hand toward my temple, where the device burned against my skin. Get it out. I managed to say, my voice hoarse.

We will, but not here. She looked up at the tall officer who now stood over it. Commander Spencer, We need to get him to medical immediately. Spencer nodded sharply. My team has the situation contained.

Take him. The two medical technicians appeared with a hovering stretcher. As they helped me onto it. I caught a glimpse of Genesis lying motionless on the floor, security officers securing her hands behind her back with some kind of electronic restraints. The vacant eyed Anna and Miguel were being LED away by other officers.

The entity. I said, grabbing Doctor Hernandez's sleeve as she walked alongside the stretcher. Genesis was going to use it to attack the neural network. We know, she said. Your alert came just in time.

The stretcher moved smoothly through corridors that blurred together in my vision. The pain from the implant grew worse with each passing minute, like hot needles pushing deeper into my brain. By the time we reach the medical Bay, I could barely keep my eyes open. Doctor Hernandez's face appeared above me, now wearing a surgical mask.

Commander, we're going to sedate you now. When you wake up, the implant will be gone. I wanted to ask more questions, but darkness claimed me before I could form the words. I woke up in a recovery room with a pounding headache that felt like someone had taken a drill to my skull. The lights were dimmed, for which I was grateful.

A bandage covered the right side of my head where the implant had been. I tried to sit up and immediately regretted it as pain lanced through my temple. Take it slow, a voice said from nearby. Doctor Hernandez stepped into my field of vision, checking something on a monitor beside my bed. The procedure was successful, but your brain needs time to adjust.

How long was I out? My mouth felt dry, my voice rough. About 6 hours. She handed me a cup of water. The implant had begun integrating with your neural pathways.

We had to be extremely careful removing it. I sipped the water, trying to organize my thoughts. They felt scattered, like papers blown across A room. Fragments of Genesis memories lingered in my mind. Flashes of her being strapped to a table, scientists in white coats standing over her, the burning pain of implantation.

I saw her methodically working to remove her own implant in a cell, blood running down her temple. I remembered the guard, Edward, and the look in his eyes as she killed him. Her memories, I said. We can still see some of them. Doctor Hernandez nodded.

We expected that. The neural link created pathways between your minds. Those connections don't disappear instantly. Even with the implant removed, the memories should fade over time. I closed my eyes, trying to sort through what was mine and what belonged to Genesis.

She hated them. The military, The scientists, they experimented on her. That's a complicated situation, a new voice said. I opened my eyes to see the officer who had led the security team standing in the doorway. He was tall, with broad shoulders, his uniform decorated with Insignia.

I didn't recognize. Commander Arlo Spencer, he introduced himself, stepping into the room. I had security for this facility. Where exactly am I? I asked.

Orbital Military Research Station Epsilon. It's where we've been studying the entity your ship brought back. He pulled up a chair and sat beside my bed. You've been through quite an ordeal, Commander Rogers. Timothy.

I said. After everything that had happened, military formality seemed pointless. Just call me Timothy. Spencer nodded. Timothy, then.

I'm Arlo. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. I want to thank you for what you did. If Genesis had succeeded in releasing that entity into our systems, the death toll would have been catastrophic. She wanted revenge.

I said, more fragments of her memories surfacing. She was a prisoner here. A prisoner, yes, but not just any prisoner. Arlo's expression grew serious. Doctor Genesis Webb was one of our leading physicists studying the entity.

She was brilliant, dedicated. Until she wasn't. She came to believe the neural network was a form of mass control, that humanity was being subjugated. She attempted to sabotage the network two years ago. Several people died.

I remembered the hatred I'd felt through our connection, the burning desire to tear down the system she saw as oppressive. She wasn't wrong about the control part, was she? Those people, Anna, Miguel, Daniel, they were being controlled through their implants. Arlo looked uncomfortable. That's not how the system typically works.

What Genesis did was a perversion of the technology. Before I could press further, the door opened again. A man in his 60s with silver hair and a neatly trimmed beard entered. His uniform carried even more Insignia than Spencer's. Commander Rogers, He said with a nod.

I'm Commander Blackwood, station director. I'm glad to see you recovering, Sir. Arlo stood, but Blackwood waved him back to his seat. I think we owe you some explanations, Blackwood said, taking a position at the foot of my bed. First, I want to assure you that your mission, the Proxima mission, was legitimate.

You were meant to reach Proxima Centauri. What happened? I asked. You encountered something in deep space. We still don't fully understand what it is, but it attached itself to your ship.

The AI detected the anomaly and followed emergency protocols to return to Earth. Blackwood's face grew somber. By the time the ship reached our solar system, your crew was gone. Genesis showed me. I stopped, unsure if what I'd seen through our connection was real.

She showed me that their bodies were intact, but their minds weren't. Blackwood nodded slowly. That's essentially correct. Their physical forms showed no damage, but there was no brain activity. It was as if something had extracted their consciousness.

I closed my eyes, thinking of Russell's steady leadership, Lillian's brilliant mind, Sage's quiet determination, all gone. And I survived because I was in deep cryostasis. That's our best guess, Doctor Hernandez said. Your cryopod settings were different from the others. Deeper suspension for the commander in case of emergency.

After we intercepted the Proxima, everything about the mission became classified, Blackwood continued. The entity was contained and brought here for study. That was 58 years ago. I looked toward the window, where Earth hung in the blackness of space. From this distance, it looked unchanged, but I knew better.

The world I'd left behind was gone, replaced by one I barely understood. Genesis said. The neural implants were based on technology from the entity, I said. Arlo and Blackwood exchanged glances. Yes, Blackwood admitted, The entity has extraordinary abilities to interface with electronic systems.

Our scientists were able to adapt some aspects of its technology to create the neural network. It revolutionized human communication and control, I added. Blackwood sighed. The system was designed to connect, not control. What Genesis did, what she showed you with those prisoners, was an abuse of the technology, not its intended purpose.

I wasn't sure I believed him, but I was too exhausted to argue. What happens now? Now you rest and recover, Doctor Hernandez said firmly. And after that, I asked. That's up to you, Blackwood said.

You're not a prisoner here, Timothy. Once you're cleared medically, you're free to go to Earth. If you wish, we can help you adjust to modern society. Or I sensed there was another option. Or you could stay and help us, Arlo said.

The entity responds to you in ways we've never seen before. Genesis was right about that much. You could be valuable to our research. And what exactly are you researching? What do you want from this thing?

Understanding. Blackwood said. It's the first confirmed extraterrestrial intelligence we've encountered. We need to know what it is, what it wants, and whether it poses a threat. I looked out at Earth again, feeling adrift.

My crew was gone. My world had transformed into something I barely recognized. The future I had planned no longer existed. I'll think about it, I said finally, as Blackwood and Arlo left. I sat alone with my thoughts and the lingering fragments of Genesis.

Memories despite everything. One thing was clear, the mysterious entity that had followed the Proxima home had changed humanity's path forever and somehow I was connected to it. I would help them understand it. Not for Blackwood or his military, but for Russell, Lillian and Sage. For the crew that never made it home.

And maybe in understanding the Entity I would find a place in this new world that had moved on without me.