With a click, the room is plunged into complete darkness.

  Despite being exhausted, Xi P does not feel sleepy. Today's events have left him feeling exhilarated, bewildered, confused, and overwhelmed. All these emotions surge at bedtime, leaving no room for drowsiness.

  Not to mention that, physiologically, night-time is his natural period of activity. In fact, he feels more awake now than when he first woke up on the lawn.

  'It's truly unimaginable. 40 hours ago (Note 1), I was piloting Incasus, searching for traces of extraterrestrial life. Now, I'm actually sleeping alongside an alien being. It's a miracle in every sense. Unless some super-advanced alien civilisation orchestrated this behind the scenes... then it would presumably take about 10-to-the-many-thousandth-power years for such an event to occur by chance.'

  Note 1: All alien units are converted to approximate Earth equivalents.

  'Discovering what no one else has seen is a privilege, or perhaps just luck. But failing to communicate that discovery is profoundly tragic. Clearly, this civilisation hasn't yet mastered faster-than-light engines. They probably don't even have controllable nuclear fusion yet and are likely still in the pre-space age. At this distance, with only slower-than-light engines... I fear there'll never be a chance to return.'

  Turning his head slightly to find a more comfortable position, Xi P begins to ponder his possible future once more.

  'How utterly tragic would that be?!'

  'No, I have to be optimistic. It is not entirely hopeless. If the technological gap isn't too vast and their science advances quickly enough, they may be able to develop FTL engines within my lifetime. But will I still be physically fit for space travel by then? And more importantly, will they even let me return? Even if they are willing to help, traversing so many light-years isn't something one can just do on a whim.'

  '...'

  Though his mind flashes with both optimistic and pessimistic conjectures, his training has taught him the importance of controlling emotions. Soon, Xi P finds a more meaningful task to occupy his thoughts than wallowing in self-pity: carefully reviewing the events of his journey. This diverts his attention and may even reveal details he had missed before....

  ***

  40 hours ago. Onboard Incasus.

  Though his eyes are fixed on the screen, his gaze has long since drifted to infinity. Staring at the intricate patterns, Xi P ponders his next move.

  His contemplation is cut short by ground control: "Xi P, acknowledge."

  "Acknowledged. Have you made a decision?"

  "Yes, the manoeuvring table has been sent to you. Exercise caution during entry — we still know next to nothing about dark matter."

  "I still maintain this mission should have been assigned to Kleros. Carter is far more skilled in physics than I am. Or you could launch a new probe. It's just a matter of waiting longer — it's not like it's going to vanish suddenly."

  "Regardless of whether it'll improbably vanish into thin air, you're here. If it vanishes, you're the only one who can retrieve the investigation data. If it doesn't, you won't lose anything by going. Go ahead; there's no need to worry."

  "What about my personal safety?" Xi P doesn't voice the question.

  The situation is complicated, to say the least. Shortly after reaching the edge of the star system's gravitational well, the ship's gravitational wave detector picked up severe mass disturbances in the distance, indicating the presence of several high-mass objects moving rapidly. But no massive celestial bodies are visible in that direction, which essentially means that a cluster of dark matter must exist there. Dark matter, which was previously observable only through gravitational lensing, is now within reach — a monumental opportunity to advance physics.

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  While its sudden disappearance is improbable, no one truly understands the properties of dark matter. How vast is it? Does it genuinely lack electromagnetic interaction? Who can guarantee that Xi P won't meet his end the moment the research vessel enters? Not to mention, these masses are still moving. This clearly means that Xi P will take a personal risk just to obtain those dark matter data sooner. While risk-taking is inherent to his line of work, he is still somewhat unwilling.

  An order is an order. Xi P reluctantly presses the screen, confirming the manoeuvre table input for the ship's manoeuvre request. He then returns to the chessboard page he'd just closed — he'd been so close to finding the winning move...

  ***

  Three hours had slipped by unnoticed after several games. The anomalous zone lies close to Incasus, and the low gravity here favors warp engine operation. The ship swiftly reaches its designated position, preparing to match relative velocities.

  "Destination reached. Waypoint B-5..." the ship's computer announces.

  Xi P, interrupted mid-move, taps the console irritably. He follows the prompts to activate various instruments and auto-upload protocols. Then his gaze returns to the chessboard — the position looks extremely favourable. Once this game ends, he can start writing the investigation report with a clear head —

  The shrill alarm pierces his ears, causing Xi P to leap practically from his chair. He stares in horror at the screen, which is now flooded with warning icons: communication lost, conventional engine propellant critically low, warp drive offline, navigation system malfunction and many other issues.

  "What is going on, what's happening?!"

  Naturally, no one answers Xi P. His face presses close to the screen as he clicks through each window, checking the ship's status. He quickly realises the situation is not quite right —

  More accurately, it doesn't match what he would expect under such an alarm. Upon closer inspection, the ship's condition is actually quite good. Though the screen is flooded with error messages — 90% are from the conventional engines and tanks — the remaining issues all point to one problem: the ship seems to have been teleported.

  This sounds straight out of science fiction, yet every observation confirms it is real. The ship is still calibrating its position based on the X-ray pulses from nearby pulsars, but a rough estimate places it over fifty light-years away — far beyond the tachyon communication range of the homeworld. This couldn't be explained by a warp drive malfunction: dozens of light-years in the blink of an eye?!

  If that is the only problem, it might still be manageable. The ship's range is sufficient for such a journey, and returning is feasible. However, there is another issue: the conventional engine's propellant is almost depleted.

  Although the fission reactor can still power the warp drive, in such a situation, the ship would be effectively immobile without conventional engines. The warp drive offers extremely poor manoeuvrability and is only suitable for interstellar transfers. Not to mention, it becomes completely useless within strong gravitational wells. To use an imperfect analogy, it's like having legs and a car: while the latter can travel very quickly over long distances, it's not ideal for short journeys, such as walking from the bedroom to the living room.

  Panting nervously, Xi P cannot comprehend what is happening. Just minutes ago, the methane level in the propellant tank had been at 80%. In an instant, it nearly vanished entirely. There is no leak; the remaining methane is still perfectly intact inside the tank. It simply... disappeared.

  "This can't be real. Ra, it must be a program error, misjudging the ship's position. I just need to reboot it. That's it, that must be it..."

  He desperately wants to convince himself. But both the continuously recalibrating pulsar positioning and the star appearing a completely different in colour on the camera feed make it crystal clear: Yes, he is screwed!

  That said, compared to suddenly being trapped over 50 light-years away, the apparent lack of propellant seems trivial. Realising this, Xi P trembles, horrifies by the prospect of slowly starving and dehydrating to death in this endless expanse of nothingness, his ship becoming his mobile coffin. It is a suffocatingly terrifying fate. Merely contemplating this possibility fills him with despair, as an icy chill spreads from his toes to his ears. He should never have approached that mass of dark matter!

  Sinking back into his chair — though in zero gravity, sitting and floating are essentially the same — Xi P tries to steady himself. From a perspective of ending the agony quickly, poisoning or shooting himself would be best, but that seems too defeatist. He doesn't want to die so easily. He must at least put up a fight, write a farewell note, and hope that a future research vessel will find his remains.

  '...'

  'Tell me where I am now. Don't make my despair too great...'

  He glances at the navigation system again. The coordinates have been calibrated to a specific location within the star system. It is a yellow main-sequence star, of moderate mass, roughly 70 light-years from the homeworld. The ship is now deeply entrenched in its gravitational well. In an instant, his eyes widen and his ears prick up. The star itself is unremarkable, but the other celestial body detected by the system moments ago is entirely different:

  A blue-green planet, blindingly bright against the pitch-black backdrop.