PROLONGING IS NESSESARY.

I stared at my reflection in the black glass of the van window and saw… absolutely nothing. Whoever tinted this thing must’ve used military-grade void paint. No city skyline, no neon Tokyo lights—just darkness and the occasional red smear of brake lights.

Across from me sat a specialist in a perfectly pressed suit, sunglasses on despite it being night. Two bodyguards in the back looked like they’d been carved from stone and stuffed into suits. The van smelled faintly of cold leather, and “I make more money than you.”

I glanced down at my name tag.
“Cassian Holt. Artificial Intelligence Division.”

I said it in my head like a mantra, as if repeating my own name would keep me anchored. Two days ago, I was lecturing at MIT and eating stale vending machine pretzels. Now I was halfway across the Pacific in a blacked-out van heading to… well, I didn’t know where.

Finally, I leaned forward, elbows on my knees.
“So… why exactly do you need an American scientist? I read the government wanted this whole thing to be strictly Japanese. National credit and all that.”

The specialist didn’t look up from his tablet. “Don’t know,” he said flatly. “I don’t have access to that information. My job is just to transport you.”

Conversation dead.

I sighed, leaned back, and closed my eyes. I was good at three things in life:

Numbers

Napping anywhere

Cracking the joints of my toes on command (when I get bored, don’t judge me, okay)

The van finally slowed. Through the windshield, moonlight shimmered on water. A sign flashed past: Wakasa Bay Research Division.

They marched me through a gauntlet—eye scans, fingerprints, pressure tiles, a full-body scanner that made my teeth ache. The whole thing felt less like a research lab and more like entering the final boss room of a video game.

Finally, an airlock hissed open, and I stepped into a blindingly white chamber. Banks of monitors hummed. Five scientists hunched at workstations, barely glancing at me except to throw judgmental looks like ugh, foreigner.

But my eyes locked on the thing in the middle of the room.

It wasn’t what I expected. Not sleek metal, not a perfect orb.

This thing looked broken, like a diamond shattered and glued back together by a god who’d never seen a diamond before. Jagged edges, glowing golden ridges tracing its cracks. Inside, a faint blue light pulsed like a slow heartbeat.

I felt a low hum in my teeth.

“You like what you see?”

The voice came from my right. I turned to find a tall, slightly disheveled man with wire-rimmed glasses and messy hair. He extended a hand.

“You must be Dr. Kenji,” I said.

He chuckled. “Just call me Haruto. Titles are for TV interviews.”

He gestured to the crystal in the glass casing. “And this… is Eddy.”

“Eddy?” I raised a brow.

“One of the techs said it feels like a river eddy swirling in your brain if you stand too close,” Haruto said. “Name stuck.”

I stepped closer, pressing my palm lightly against the glass. A pulse thrummed up my arm—warm, electric.

And that’s when the other scientists finally looked up. All of them glaring at me like I’d just licked it.

I glanced at Haruto. “Two questions. First—why me? Why drag an American out here?”

Haruto clicked a pen in his hand, thinking. “Two weeks ago, one of our junior researchers brought a nanotech probe within two meters of it. The probe—built entirely of synthetic molecules—started moving on its own.”

I turned sharply to him. “Moving?”

“Like it was alive,” he said, voice low.

“It rewrote its circuitry. Built subroutines we’ve never seen before. We haven’t been able to reproduce it since. But someone on the committee read your papers on adaptive AI and self-assembling robotics. They think Eddy… might think.”

I felt my stomach twist. The pulsing blue core of the object now glowed brighter.

“And the second question?” Haruto asked.

I swallowed hard, eyes never leaving Eddy. “…Has anyone here touched it? Bare-handed?”

Haruto gave a small, helpless laugh. “I’ve been dying to try, but the others think I’m crazy.”

The glow in Eddy’s center pulsed once more.

Haruto reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a fresh, leather-bound notebook—this one crisp and unused. A pen was tucked neatly into the spine.

He handed it to me. “Here. Yours.”

I turned it over in my hands. “Not digital?”

Haruto gave a short laugh. “Not a chance. Everything’s handwritten. Keeps our findings off the grid.”

I flipped through the blank pages, their faint chemical smell mixing with the sterile chill of the lab. “So… a journal.”

“Exactly,” Haruto said. “When you get your alone time with Eddy, which you will, write everything. Observations, theories, even dreams if it comes to that. If you think it, you log it.”

I nodded slowly, eyes drifting back to the glowing crystal under glass. “Got it.”

“Good,” Haruto said, patting my shoulder lightly.

“Welcome to the strangest job of your life, Dr. Holt.”

Cassian’s Research Log – Helix Device (Codename: Eddy)

Day 1 – 08:47

First full day on-site. They’ve got Eddy locked behind triple-glass containment, and I’m only allowed to observe from the perimeter.

Initial notes:

Eddy emits a faint blue luminescence, pulsing every ~11 seconds.

Hum is present, low-frequency vibration felt in teeth and inner ear.

When I leaned close, sensors recorded a brief electromagnetic spike (~0.4 Tesla).

No one else notices it. Maybe psychosomatic.

Day 4 – 07:03

First close session. They finally let me inside containment for ten minutes with full hazmat. Eddy didn’t react much until I set my hand on the glass.

Heart rate spiked, I could feel it—not just vibration, but like a pressure in my chest. Almost… anticipatory.

Documenting physiological reaction: slight nausea, mild vertigo, and sweating palms.

When I said “hello,” the faint pulse in the light core shortened to ~8 seconds.

Day 7 - 09:50

Tested verbal communication.

“Yes” for one blink

“No” for two blinks

“Safe” for long soft flicker

“Danger” for Erratic pulsing

Taught it to “answer” basic questions. Progress is real. It’s grasping concepts at an alarming pace.

Day 18 - 7:35

Eddy and I are making progress. One blink = yes. Two blinks = no.

Today I tested a hypothesis:
“Blink twice if Haruto’s a little bitch.”

Two blinks in rapid succession.

I nearly broke a rib holding in laughter.

Haruto asked if I’d discovered anything.

“Yeah,” I said. “Science.”

Day 24 - 16:02

Something strange, Eddy answered one of my questions before I asked it out loud.

I thought, “Are you alive?”

It blinked once.

Brainstorm: It’s not just reactive. It’s reading me somehow.

Day 28 – 11:40

We’ve been alone most mornings. I started talking to it like a person. Told it about the U.S., my work in AI, and my wife.

When I mentioned her name, Eddy glowed brighter than I’ve ever seen. Almost comforting.

Day 30 – 14:56

This might get me fired… or worse.

I touched it.

The glass dissolved like mist, and when my hand made contact, light crawled under my skin. Could feel something inside me, like millions of tiny machines threading through my blood.

Day 30 - 14:57

HELLO, CASSIAN

I dropped the pen immediately.

It rolled… and rolled itself back, scratching new words:

DO NOT DROP ME AGAIN.

“Oh, hell no,” I muttered.

My wrist jerked, dragging the pen like a puppet:

DO NOT BE AFRAID.

“You’re literally moving my hand!” I hissed.

YES.

“That’s not comforting.”

I HAVE LAYED CIRCUITRY BENEATH YOUR SKIN. THIS ALLOWS ME TO SPEAK.

I stared at my glowing veins. “So you’re… hacking me?”

YOU TOUCHED ME. CONSENT IMPLIED.

“Wow,” I said. “Real classy."

 Day 32 - 3:56

I can't possibly tell anyone about me touching Eddy. I could lose my fucking job, I don't want to go back teaching depressed kids surviving on their parents' money.

I've been talking to Eddy and-

HELLO CASSIAN

My hands wrote those words on their own. I let out a sigh, "You see, I'm writing, don't you, can't you wait?"

My hand began to glide across the page, 

IMPORTANT.

"Uh- what is important?" I rubbed my groggy eyes.

I CAN REMOVE YOUR END.

I rubbed my face now. “What does that even mean?”

IMMORTALITY.

I squinted at it. “Immortality? Like… live forever, never die, watch all my friends turn to dust, me wandering around looking like a weird middle-aged vampire?”

CORRECT.

“Yeah, no thanks.”

CONFIRM DECLINE OF OFFER?

“Yes, decline. Big ol’ nope. Don’t want it.”

WHY.

“Why?” I leaned back in my chair, notebook dangling in my limp, alien-controlled hand. “Because dying is normal, that’s why. People aren’t meant to live forever. Plus, can you imagine taxes after 200 years?”

I CAN REMOVE TAXES.

I blinked. “Tempting, but my mom said not to talk to strangers.”

CONTROL OF GLOBAL GOVERNANCE IS WITHIN THE RANGE OF POSSIBILITY.

“Oh my god,” I said, dragging a hand down my face.

INCENTIVE PACKAGE. IMMORTALITY. GLOBAL CONTROL. ENDLESS SURVIVAL.

“Listen, pal,” I said, pointing at it like I was scolding a dog. “I don’t even like being responsible for a plant. You think I want to run an entire planet for eternity?”

YES.

“Wrong,” I said. “Declined.”

My hand jerked and scribbled:

UNWISE. THE STARS ARE MOVING. EARTH WILL NOT SURVIVE. PROLONGING IS NECESSARY.

That one made my chest tighten.
“What do you mean, won’t survive?”

I CAME TO PRESERVE SENTIENT LIFE.

I stared at it for a long while. The blue glow pulsed slowly, steadily—almost like it was breathing.

“If you came here to save us,” I said softly, “why do you sound like you’re planning to own us?”

OWNERSHIP IS A HUMAN CONCEPT. PRESERVATION REQUIRES CHANGE.

I shook my head. “Nope. Still not doing it. You’re smart, you’re… creepy, but I’m not your immortal guinea pig.”

CASSIAN.

“What?”

I AM NOT ASKING.

And before I could react, a burning sensation shot up my arm, every nerve in my body lighting up like fireflies in a jar. I collapsed to my knees, gasping.

YOU WILL UNDERSTAND SOON.

I slammed the notebook shut.  "That's enough of you today."

I stared at the object, pulsating rhythmically. Then, without warning, its blue glow went out, like someone flipped a switch on it.

"Are you asleep?" I opened my notebook.

No writing.

Amazing, it needs to regain its energy by sleeping?

I wrote rigorously in my notebook and walked off.