Intern’s Log: What About My Future?

  Date: [I Am Not Ready for This]

  Intern ID: Reynolds, J. (I just realized I don’t know where I fit in anymore.)

  Harper and Dante returned.

  ? They brought the next generation of Good Boys.

  ? They proved that uplifted species are here to stay.

  ? They looked at me like I was supposed to understand what that meant.

  But the only thing I could think was—

  "What about my future?"

  And before I could stop myself, I said it out loud.

  Evelyn was next to me.

  She heard it.

  She turned to me.

  And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t talking about the war.

  I wasn’t talking about humanity’s future.

  I wasn’t talking about the Good Boys, the bears, the lemurs, or the raccoons.

  I was talking about me.

  Phase One: The Question I Wasn’t Ready to Ask

  "What about my future?" I said.

  Evelyn watched me carefully.

  "What about it?" she asked, voice softer than usual.

  I exhaled.

  "I don’t know what I mean."

  But I did.

  I absolutely did.

  Because for the first time since this insanity started—

  Since the bears, the Good Boys, the aliens, the existential horror—

  I had to admit something.

  I had no idea where I fit into this world anymore.

  Phase Two: The Fear I Hadn’t Said Out Loud

  "You know," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck, "a few months ago, I thought I had a career. A plan."

  Evelyn tilted her head, listening.

  "I was supposed to be… what? Some mid-level lab tech? Some government cog? A guy who maybe settled down, had a house, got yelled at by my mom for not giving her grandkids?"

  She smirked at that.

  "She’d be thrilled about the whole ‘grandkids’ thing now."

  "Yeah. Too bad they all have claws and military training."

  She laughed. But she didn’t say anything.

  So I kept going.

  Because now it was all coming out.

  "But now? Now I look around, and I see all this—"

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  I gestured at everything.

  The bears. The raccoons. The lemurs. The Good Boys, standing at the edge of history, staring at a world that doesn’t belong to humans anymore.

  "And I don’t know where I fit. I don’t know if I have a place in this future, or if I was just the guy holding the door open for it to happen."

  Evelyn was quiet for a long moment.

  Then she said, very carefully—

  "Do you want a place in it?"

  And that?

  That stopped me cold.

  Phase Three: The Answer I Wasn’t Ready to Give

  I looked at her.

  She looked back.

  And I realized—

  She wasn’t asking about humanity’s place in the future.

  She wasn’t asking about survival, or strategy, or war.

  She was asking about me.

  Did I want to be part of it?

  Did I want to belong in this world I helped create?

  Did I see myself moving forward—

  Or had I already accepted that I was being left behind?

  I didn’t have an answer.

  Not yet.

  So instead, I asked the question that scared me even more.

  "What about our future?"

  Evelyn’s expression didn’t change.

  She just watched me, steady and knowing.

  "Is that what you’re really asking?"

  "I don’t know."

  I did.

  But I didn’t know how to say it.

  Phase Four: The Moment I Realized I Didn’t Want to Run Anymore

  Evelyn took a sip of her drink.

  Set it down.

  And then, finally, she spoke.

  "You know, for a guy who’s helped rewrite evolution, you’re pretty bad at admitting what you actually want."

  I laughed.

  It was tired. Dry.

  "Yeah. Seems like a character flaw at this point."

  She nudged my arm.

  "So fix it."

  "It’s not that easy."

  "Sure it is."

  I looked at her.

  At everything happening around us.

  At the world I couldn’t run from anymore.

  And I realized—

  Maybe she was right.

  Maybe I just had to stop pretending I was an outsider.

  Maybe I just had to accept that this was my world too.

  And maybe…

  I didn’t have to face it alone.

  Final Thoughts (I Think I Want to Stay)

  ? I asked the question I wasn’t ready to ask.

  ? Evelyn made me realize I already knew the answer.

  ? The future is coming, and I want to be in it.

  ? And maybe… just maybe… I don’t want to be in it alone.

  I don’t know what happens next.

  But I do know this—

  I think I just stopped running.

  End Log.