Unknown Diary_
It's been years since Adam left. I still don't know what I'm doing. I feel like I'm losing my mind. How stupid—my own consciousness, my own limits… the concepts of the universe keep pressing in.
Who even created me? Someone shaped with a mind almost like an autonomous intelligence—never forgetting, with denser gray matter, like a bird's, built for sharper thinking and constant synaptic pruning.
All the chemical compounds—BDNF, GNF—heightened for adaptability… forming new cortical connections, speeding up processing, strengthening myelination beyond what humans normally have. Like the circuitry of a self-directed machine.
And yet I'm still useless. I can't evaluate, can't encode, can't find the solution. I can't grasp what any of this truly means. I feel stupid… limited… helpless. But I won't give up, no matter how long it takes.
Even so… right now I'm doubting myself. Afraid that I'll fail to accomplish this before death reaches me.
Oh creator… I can't seem to fulfill what you intended, but even i know you didnt created this. though I'm holding an impossible concept in my hands. Even if it isn't matter, even if it's something beyond substance, all I can do is analyze what already happened. I wasn't there when he needed me most.
Something at the top of the stratum is filled with matter that can't be conceptualized or abstracted. Atoms within atoms, compressed to form a body sealed inside a cube, stacked against a portal—an endless energy of splitting particles, warping gravity and magnetism.
A Doppler effect bound to a concentrated force… and yet I can feel it. I can even hold it.
It's a strange, impossible concept to witness. And I still don't understand.
Five years later…
I've finally drawn a graph—my only way to use this thing. But even now I can't comprehend it. The cube's energy floats around itself, forming a field that makes it untouchable from the outside. And when the portal activates, space tears open under a single concentrated surge made from all the concepts of the natural world.
It becomes a gateway.
And with that… I've realized I'm afraid. Afraid to enter the unknown where nothing exists—no space, no time, no matter. Afraid to even imagine another universe where nothing is familiar, because its matter, wavelengths, and laws would be completely different.
I would be destroyed. I'm incompatible...
I am stressed and in distress till the day it began, suffering out in my own mind... Confusions and thoughts filled through me.
Or maybe something else would happen to me… something I can't predict.
I hold Adam's camera—he took pictures of everyone he met, even himself. He dropped it when he left, at the top.
I smile to myself.
In the end… I only care if I succeed.
Transition Point
For I have failed. I find it meaningless. Your existence—the one I so desperately want to experience, to speak to… Every time I think of you, my mind goes blank. All the thoughts I could have just vanish.
And I felt confuse... Yet i know
Thousands of parallel thoughts, all the danger signals of consciousness, all the instinct to turn away—all of it disappears when you enter my mind. My heart pounds. My emotions, once almost flat, suddenly move like waves.
Literal colors seemed to enter my eyes when I imagined you. And it felt like everything would matter more if you were here. I pictured constructing frameworks, diagrams, blueprints, genomes beside you.
Scenarios fill my mind with you...
My mind grows fuzzy whenever I think of you. I can't comprehend it. It's strange, impossible to define. But the one hypothesis I've formed is this: I would rather be with you forever. Maybe then this rattled mind of mine would finally settle.
…
Time have passed without anything. I'm growing impatient, wondering where you are, what universe you belong to… and how far it is. If I tear through the fabric of this world, the structure of everything here may become even more unstable.
I'm stupid. An anomaly. An error. An aberration. Built for adaptability, yet unable to resolve this single problem.
Final Point — Unknown Years
I've prepared thousands of counterplans for my success. No matter what, I know that if I step outside my universe, my body will disintegrate and vanish—as if I never existed. In another universe, under foreign constants and alien concepts, I would decay as an anomaly.
But information won't. My body won't survive… but the concept of me can. My information will scatter through the universe, drifting until it forms another version of myself.
And that one… will find you. Wherever you are. Even though it hurts to know it may not truly be me.
But it's alright. Even if the chance is one in infinity—basically impossible. It's alright. It isn't over until it's over.
I'll create a containment field so my information can pass safely through the rip in nothingness—so that my universe can travel toward others instead of dissolving into the void. So it can reach the multiverse… and rewrite its own constants with whatever is there.
I'm tired. So tired. I feel myself forgetting, my consciousness thinning out. My bones ache, my flesh decays… telomeres shortening, cells degrading and turning over beyond repair. Forgive me—this is all I can do. I wanted to meet you so much. But if it doesn't happen… I guess this is enough.
I'll send all my technology across, to guide this information.And to reach you.
My consciousness... I hope it will preserve till i see you... But don't worry I will not give you this burden of knowing it.
I preserve everyone... Knowing youll be sad without them...
Goodbye... I hope ill meet you again in my last moment's