Personal log- Captain Maxwell Cristov: 2079 Europa standard time, First Light

  Nothing worth achieving is easy to attain. If the path is traveled, it’s not truly yours. To struggle is human. To ere, divine. I think back to my life on Earth, before the crushing deep invited me into its icey embrace. Lemon-yellow sun, crisp clean air, the whipping howl of a windy night. Difficult to forget, easy to take for granted.

  Humanity lifted with all its might. Arms outstretched to the stars. We sought the promise of a sun-kissed dream, but our hubris led us to the depths, where we are devoid.

  Technology, more like wonder, guides our hand. We toil and sail beneath the cruel ice toward better days, but, they can still be difficult to conjure.

  I am aged. My fragility pokes and prods at me. A constant reminder. The weight of my accolades give me a heavy burden to bear. I’ve sailed to many victories, and equally defeat. The sway of the Consulate deems me worthy for retirement, but I don’t believe I’m ready to accept.

  In twenty four hours, I will sail out from Katie's Plateau, crossing the Great Sea, to discover the Heart of Europa. I don’t know what to expect, or, truth be told, what I wish to gain. I do know, however, that this expedition holds monumental import. Not just for me, but humanity itself.

  Despite overwhelming odds, I have been given a ship that defies reality. Also, a hand picked crew of the brightest and boldest the Consulate has to offer. We will sail bravely, with indefatigable purpose.

  That stated, I accept them, and the task, as my final mission. With it, I hope to spare others from risking the journey, and the possible indignation of dying a fools death.

  I go now, to sail. To lead, and discover. Should this journal be found in anyone’s possession but mine own, the task falls to you… Let Europa know what we found.

  Chapter one

  Since arriving in the underwater city of Attica, Max had spent his nights alone in a dreary hotel room. It was frigid, and the air was moist. A tell-tale sign of over worked Oxenid Temples.

  Adding to his discomfort, blankets like paper and pillows like sand graced Maxwell’s worn skin with their presence. He shivered and his joints ached.

  ‘Prick.’ Max squeezed from his lungs, observing the path of his breath. It collected with the rest of the cold unclean air that filled room, and became visible under the fading tube lights that lined the ceiling.

  Meridian was always looking to hoard coin. He cut and cropped on things he believed inconsequential. It was thanks to him that Max found himself inhabiting this steeled cage.

  A steeled cage. Common feelings from many of Europa’s inhabitants. The cold kiss of steel was the warm hearth of home. Such was also the case with Max's temporary lodging.

  Steel laid underfoot, above, ahead and behind, harsh in form and in reminder. To add to the feeling, the only other furnishings beside the creaky bed was a nightstand and a drab armchair that rested in the corner.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  There was also a viewing window, but, Max wasn’t mad enough to spend his time staring into abyssal waters. Or so, he thought.

  Just as quickly as it would vanish, it would manifest. Max had only turned in his bed for a moment, and the… thing, rested on the armchair again.

  Canine. Black fur like the void, deeper than Europa’s waters. Unsightly red eyes… A menacing visage.

  Max knew it wasn’t real, at least to others. German Shepherds didn’t have the capacity for speech the last time he checked. But this one spoke, and speak it did.

  ‘Max, I’m very real.’ The dog slinked up and sat, opening its evil smile of a maw. ‘My existence isn’t based on the perception of others… but you are tired.’

  Max tried to ignore the aberration for twelve lights, since it’s inception. This only made it agitated, however, so Max addressed it.

  ‘What do you want?’ He sternly spat.

  ‘aww c’mon Max, just trying to give an old man a helping hand. Asshole. At least you understand that you hurt me just as much as I hurt you.’

  A falsity, at least to Max. The beast behaved a burden. It taunted and cackled at any misfortune or inconvenience, massive or minute. It held no favor in Max’s eyes, but yet they were connected, and it pestered on.

  ‘You know, I almost forgot something Max… Max?’

  ‘What.’

  ‘Happy birthday!’ it sailed off the couch and scrambled to the bedside, sitting uncomfortably close to Max while it panted and wagged it’s tail.

  ‘It’s not my birthday.’

  It stopped, and twisted a crooked look.

  ‘I know you’re an old dust bag but that’s no reason to ignore a birthday. Right buddy? Buddy old pal. Guy. Friend.’

  Insidious insincerity...

  ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Feigned ignorance.

  The dog yawned in Max’s face and jumped on the bed, putting its weight on his weary feet. With its red eyes, it reached deep into Max’s blue.

  ‘You know what I’m talking about…’ Its otherworldly voice rattled in Max’s ears.

  ‘I don’t… You babble.’

  The dog cocked its neck back. ‘I do not babble. I am inner truth Max, and believe me when I say this a wondrous new day for you. The man finds himself, but to what end?’

  ‘Completion. Despite your unwanted presence.’

  The dog appeared to gasp, holding its right paw near to its chest.

  ‘I’m hurt. Words, just like weapons, can kill bud. You’re killin me. Throw a dog a bone eh?’

  Max shifted up against the bedframe as much as he could, shedding his layers, exposing the elements further.

  The Looking Glass is a thin glass slide the size of a card. Screens on both the front and back display at a touch, bringing up a Consulate formatted interface. It was one’s hub for communication, information, and entertainment. Max had his in hand while he attempted to find rest last light. He set it on the nightstand and peered back at the creature.

  His words formed, cloudy on his breath.

  ‘If I gave you one, would you go away?’

  The dog squinted and sneered.

  ‘Psshh. Fuck no. This is awesome. I get a front row seat to your failure. It’s palpable.’

  Max crossed his arms, white hair, scars and spots dotting the approach.

  ‘Mission hasn’t even started yet. You, nor I, can possibly know that, dog. Unless you know more than you’re telling me.’

  ‘I know many things.’ It spoke. ‘Not all, but one thing, I do know...’ It smiled widely.

  ‘What?’

  ‘No amount of moon metal or grit or hope or determination will see you there. The Templus is correct about one thing, it is unreachable for you Max.’

  Determination.

  ‘A part of the Templus itself consecrated this endeavor. I remembered. Did you forget?’