Entry 4

Hira Space Station

Entry 4: A Journey to Balance

I sat at home, feeling a heaviness in my bones that I wasn’t used to. Physically, mentally—everything was just… tired. Not like the good kind of tired you get after a long day’s work, either. This was the sort of exhaustion that weighed down on you and didn’t let up. The kind where your thoughts get tangled, and even sitting still feels like too much.

I flicked through the channels on the holo-screen, not really watching, just letting the static of the channels drown out my thoughts. The more I tried to silence them, the louder they got. I had taken on this burden, this weight, and now it was all pressing down on me—pressing me into the ground, harder than gravity ever could.

And then, out of nowhere, an ad flashes across the screen: a quiet, zen-like retreat. A resort promising "balance" and "peace of mind." The place looked serene, filled with calm artificial landscapes under a soft blanket of starlight. I recognized the name from somewhere... oh yeah, Juno had mentioned it before.

Hira. That was it. Simple, clean, like the name itself could breathe.

I hesitated for a moment, letting the thought swirl. Balance... peace... was that even possible for someone like me anymore?

I grabbed my comm anyway, contacting the resort. They had a room! And before I knew it, I’d booked myself in. Maybe this would help. Maybe I just needed to step away for a bit. A place like Hira might be exactly what I needed to quiet the storm in my head. I set the comm down, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Well, let’s see if this helps,” I muttered. But inside, the question still lingered. When did life get so complicated?

I needed to figure that out.

I stepped off Quicksilver and into the space station’s docking bay. The artificial gravity settled me in, and felt a wave of exhaustion hit. I wasn’t in any hurry, though. What I needed was to sit, think, and just… drift.

I found a quiet lounge—calm, low lighting, and a stunning view of the stars stretching out endlessly. I grabbed a “Stardust Refresher” from the counter and took it to a seat by the massive window, sinking into a chair that felt like it was designed for zero-gravity naps. The stars shimmered against the darkness, like pinpricks of neon on a canvas of nothingness.

Fractal

After a few minutes, I noticed someone sit down beside me. They had this calm, easy presence—no sudden moves, just… being. I glanced over. They looked human enough, but dressed in what looked like liquid silver. Their eyes, though—there was something strange about them. They looked like galaxies, a little bit of neon sparkle, like stars in an infinite expanse.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” they said, their voice smooth and unhurried, as if the stars themselves spoke. I nodded, taking a sip of my drink.

“Yeah, it’s something else,” I replied, settling back into the chair.

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, just the two of us staring out into the expanse. I didn’t feel the need to fill it with words, but then they spoke again, their voice still relaxed, almost casual.

“We appreciate your love for Lunite.”

I blinked, turning to face them. “Lunite?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral, though my interest was definitely perked!

The figure gave a small smile but didn’t elaborate. Instead, they leaned back in their chair, looking out at the stars again, as if they had said something completely ordinary.

I waited for a moment, but nothing more came. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but before I could ask anything else, they rose from their seat—only, it didn’t seem like they stood up. More like they were there one moment, then gone the next. I blinked, the chair beside me was empty.

I took another sip of my drink, staring out at the stars again, and let the moment drift away.

After spending an hour or two in the lounge, I made my way back to my room. The bed looked like a cloud, and before I even knew what hit me, I collapsed onto it, sinking deep into the mattress. The next thing I knew, I had slept for fifteen hours straight—the longest I could ever remember. My body wasn’t used to this kind of rest.

I woke up slowly, my brain still groggy, but the in-room coffee bar saved me. One cup of that rich brew, and the caffeine kicked in, bringing me back to life. I stretched, feeling a little better, but my mind was still racing. The quiet of this place was helping… but I wasn’t all the way there yet.

Immerse yourself into the serene surroundings of the spa.

“Let’s see if I can find an open appointment at the spa,” I muttered, stretching out my arms. My muscles were still sore from all that digging in the caves. “A little loosening up wouldn’t hurt”.

I called down to the front desk, and luckily, they had an opening. I grabbed my things and headed to the spa. For the next hour and a half, I almost forgot where I was. The soft music, the warm glow of the low lights, and the soothing scent of tea tree oil lulled me into a near trance.

After the massage, I felt like Jell-O. Yep, that’s right—Jell-O. And in case you’re wondering, yes, we still have that on the moon. And Tang too, if you were curious.

Back in my room, I sat down at the table by the window, gazing out into the infinite stretch of stars. Little by little, I was starting to feel like I was going in the right direction. I wasn’t quite there yet, but I was starting to get the sense that balance was possible.

Still, the question lingered—was I on the right course?

I decided to get out for a bit, maybe clear my head. I wandered into the shopping area and found myself sitting on a bench, watching people walk by. Everyone I saw carried their own burdens, their own worries… just like I did. It was oddly comforting—knowing I wasn’t the only one feeling this way.

Then something caught my eye down the hall: a movie theater. The marquee blinked faintly in the distance.

“Huh,” I muttered. “I wonder what’s playing?”

As I approached the movie theater, something seemed off. There wasn’t a title for the film. No start times. Just a sign that read, Step in and enjoy! Odd, but... why not? I figured I could use a break from overthinking everything.

I grabbed a bucket of popcorn and a soda and made my way inside, finding a seat a little toward the back. To my surprise, the movie was already playing. No tickets, no beginning—just an ongoing reel of scenes from some strange, old-Earth sci-fi B-movie.

We've come so far,  but left so much behind.

The screen flickered with low-budget rocket ships, complete with strings that you could see attached to the ship. The actors delivered lines that were campy, maybe even a little cheesy by today’s standards, but there was something oddly charming about it. Each film faded into the next, all running in a never-ending loop.

It was funny at first, but then something deeper hit me. In these old Earth days, dreamers existed. They had no idea what the future would bring, but they weren’t afraid to imagine it. The optimism, the lightness in these films... it all felt distant, like a time capsule of how people used to see the stars—full of possibilities.

These days... it almost feels like sci-fi is dead! I thought to myself, we’re living it, day to day.

Yet there was something so beautiful in the simplicity of it. Dreamers back then didn’t need to know what the future held. They just believed in it. They believed in exploration. And watching those grainy films made me realize something: every day, I have a choice. I have the decision to live that day however I want to.

I had been carrying this burden—the responsibility I put on myself with the Moon Credits, the pressure to save the moon’s future. But maybe... just maybe, that was a weight I didn’t need to carry alone.

Hours passed as I sat there, mesmerized by the black-and-white rockets and the quirky dialogue. But by the time I finally left, something had clicked. The stars outside the theater, they still held mysteries—places no one had explored. Even the moon, my moon, had corners unseen by human eyes.

I walked out of the theater with a new sense of direction. Funny how quickly things can change. One moment you’re just watching a movie, and the next, you’ve shifted your entire outlook.

Needing to clear my head even more, I wandered over to the pool. People were swimming, laughing, and for the first time in days, I felt like joining in. I took a slow dip, and as I floated on my back, the stars came back into view—just as bright and mysterious as they had been from the lounge.

As I floated there, looking out at the endless void of stars, my mind wandered again. What if, I thought, years from now, people looked back at what I’m doing, and see it the way I see those dreamers? Fascinating. Bold.

For the first time in a long while, my mind felt wide open. Maybe this place was actually starting to work. By the time I made it back to my room and collapsed into bed, I felt something I hadn’t felt in ages: control. Excitement. Hope. I plopped back down onto the ultra-comfy mattress, letting that warmth and optimism wash over me.

And just like that, I drifted off to sleep.

I woke up slowly, feeling lighter than I had in days. It wasn’t just the sleep; it was like something had shifted. A clarity I hadn’t realized I needed. As I stretched and pulled myself out of bed, I figured it was time to wander a bit, maybe get one last glimpse of what this place had to offer before heading out.

Instead of the lounge, I found myself drifting through the shopping mall of the station. It was quiet, like the calm after a storm. The storefronts glittered with merchandise—luxury items, novelties from far-off places, even a few things that reminded me of home.

I wasn’t in the mood to buy anything, but as I wandered past the art gallery, something caught my eye. I stepped inside, greeted by the sharp scent of paint and the soft buzz of ambient music. The gallery walls were lined with abstract pieces, swirling shapes, and colors that seemed to shift the longer you stared at them.

That’s when the art director popped out of nowhere.

“Ah, yes! You!” she said, waving her hands in the air like she was conducting some invisible symphony. “You’re here to gaze upon the wonders of space... and the wonders of paint... or maybe both!”

I blinked, trying to keep up. “Uh, sure. Space and paint. That’s what I’m here for.”

She gave me a wide grin, her eyes practically twinkling with excitement. “You see, every stroke, the brush is like the trail of a rocket—zoom!—across the stars. You have to feel it, let it wash over you like, well, like you’re floating in space... but with a paintbrush. You know?”

I nodded, doing my best to follow. “Yeah, totally. Floating. Paintbrushes. I’m with you.”

Celestial Spaghetti

She pointed to a piece of art that was just a bunch of purple circles. “This one’s called ‘Celestial Spaghetti.’ It’s meant to represent the noodles of time... unraveling.”

“Right,” I said, nodding along. “Can’t forget the noodles of time.”

We exchanged a few more minutes of this odd but strangely amusing conversation as I wandered deeper into the gallery. It was weird, but in a way, it was exactly what I needed. Something light, something that didn’t make too much sense, but still managed to put a smile on my face.

Then, I saw it. A piece that stopped me dead in my tracks.

Bario DMG-483

It wasn’t like the other abstract works—this was an 8-bit portrait of a familiar character from my early gaming days. His blocky face, his bright green colors—it immediately took me back to being a kid on the freighter, playing video games for hours. There he was, the little hero I’d spent so many hours with as I imagined myself in other worlds.

Without thinking, I turned back to the art director. “I’ll take this one.”

She gave me a thumbs-up, clearly satisfied with my choice. “Ah, yes! The pixels! They speak to you, don’t they? Like tiny little space adventurers, all in formation, ready to conquer the cosmos! You, are a pixel person.”

I laughed, mostly because she wasn’t wrong. “Yep, that’s me. A pixel person.”

After a few more odd but entertaining comments, I made my purchase and and just like that, it was in my wallet as an NFT ready to take home and project to my wall. I left the gallery and wandered the mall a bit more, but my thoughts were calmer now. Less... scattered. The weight I had been, lifted off my shoulders.

I had responsibilities, sure. But I also had choices. I had the chance to shape my own story, to write it the way I wanted, without letting the burdens hold me back.

As I boarded Quicksilver, I glanced one last time at the station. I didn’t know when I’d be back, but I was leaving with something far more valuable than I expected—clarity, a sense of balance, and hope.

With the push of a button, the engine hummed to life. The moon wasn’t far off, but as I looked out at the stars once more, I realized that my journey was just beginning. And this time, I wasn’t carrying the weight alone.

Two nights stay, spa treatment, and a high-end NFT - my total cost was 2,225,000 Moon Credits