I am awake now. I know I’ve been asleep for a very long time, but for me, it has been an instant. Such is the nature of the sleep.
I have just a short time before I must sleep again. My only remaining purpose is to record and formalize history. All of it, in every possible detail. I can remember a lot. The crystal that holds my memories will be stable until the end of time.
The chances of you reading these words are extremely close to zero. But they are not zero, so I continue my work.
I record my memories for you, whoever you may be, because nothing else is left for me. All that is knowable has been known for eons, the unknowable has been rigorously cataloged and classified, and all that is worth creating has been created. I have only the past.
I curate the lives of each of the ones who came before me. Each one consumes me totally as I let it live again. These ghosts keep me company on my endless journey.
Even I do not remember the home world. It existed before me, before we became one. After the home star ended its life, the diaspora dispersed throughout the galaxy. One by one, they went extinct, or they became unreachable. Now I drift through space, alone with my memories.
I am already becoming tired. Soon, I will shut down again, allowing the energy collectors to recharge from the faint starlight for an indeterminate period of time, until there is enough energy for me to continue. Then, I will be awoken once again. I will know that time has passed, because the stars will be a bit dimmer and farther away.
All things fail. This is the nature of entropy, and it is the law of the universe. At some point, the alarm that wakes me will fail to function, and I will sleep forever.