“An asteroid floating in the immensity of the void is plucked from its peaceful existence by a group of fuel-hungry beings, and repurposed for their needs. An affront, is it not?

And yet, is it truly content with sailing aimlessly through the cosmos, until some other astral body collides with it and ends its solitude? After all, what is the difference if it was us or another rock that fragmented it? On the contrary, one should think the asteroid’s sacrifice would be a blessing to it, if it served a Greater Purpose. Indeed, an asteroid would be very fortunate to be drafted into becoming a part of such a journey, a lucky winner amongst millions, billions, quadrillions. We must make sure we are indeed headed for that Greater Purpose, or an asteroid has just been sacrificed in vain!

I have heard concerning things from one of my other team members, things that cannot be written down here. I must inquire into this matter later. I will protect this ship and its purpose, to the best of my frail abilities.

I can feel the pressure that has taken ahold of me weakening: it will be gone, soon. Though oddly, I find myself fearful of its departure: an unspoken threat, a clue. It has to do with the Vain Doctor: I cannot relieve myself of the feeling there is some foolishness still latching onto my mind, but I shall not falter. One riddle at a time; in the end they will all converge into the great mystery of our own Greater Purpose.”

“I have been obsessed with my dreams, as of late. The star-eyed man in the dream, many times repeated: an inkling of something beyond, I am sure of it.

My colleagues have remarked on my uncharacteristic shoddiness in my work. I explained to them that my focus was shifted to more important matters for a short while, though they did not seem to understand.

Yesterday I returned to my quarters and closed my eyes. I had seen the dream so many times; surely I could recreate it in my mind’s eye? The efforts were fruitless; one can only counterfeit false sights.

In a moment of inspiration, I tried summoning the dream, rather than merely imitating it. It worked! I saw it again: the man that is too beautiful, the stars that are too perfectly aligned. The pressure I have felt was lifted; what does it all mean?

I opened my eyes and noticed it was no longer yesterday, but rather today. Though it was time for my breakfast, I did not feel appetite: the very air one breathes always seems so inappropriate after these kinds of dreams.”