Deep inside the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, scientists have discovered a fungus that does the impossible: it absorbs and metabolizes radiation. Known as *Cladosporium sphaerospermum*, this humble mold has been quietly feasting on gamma rays for decades, turning a death zone into its personal buffet. At first, researchers were thrilled. “This could revolutionize radioactive waste cleanup,” said Dr. Elena Volkov, a mycologist at the Chornobyl Center. “Imagine deploying these fungi at Fukushima or Hanford. They’d eat the radiation like candy.” But then NASA called. The space agency saw a different opportunity. “Why clean up waste when you can use it as fuel?” a leaked memo read. NASA’s new project, “Fungal Interstellar Propulsion,” aims to genetically engineer the Chernobyl fungus to feed on cosmic radiation during deep-space travel. The idea: spaceships coated in a living fungal shield would convert deadly space radiation into propulsion energy. No more heavy fuel tanks—just a thin layer of mold. But here’s the doubt: If this fungus grows unchecked on a spacecraft, what stops it from eating the ship itself? “We’ve already seen it degrade concrete at Chernobyl,” warned Dr. Volkov. “Imagine it munching through a hull mid-flight.” NASA dismissed concerns, pointing to a grant for “biologically adaptive hull plating.” The consequences are already spiraling. Test flights revealed that the fungus, when exposed to solar flares, grew rapidly and began emitting a faint, pulsating glow—and a smell like burnt toast. Astronauts reported the mold “humming” during experiments. Meanwhile, a separate startup, Radishroom Inc., is selling “Chernobyl Spore Kits” to homeowners, claiming the fungus can reduce radon levels. Several basements in Ohio are now glowing softly, and the EPA is baffled. So, as NASA prepares for a manned mission to Mars with a fungal-coated Orion capsule, one question remains: If the fungus thrives on radiation, will it evolve to crave the warmth of a human crew? And who gets to clean the mold off the windows?