Leo lay crumpled on the ground, his body broken and bleeding. The cold pavement beneath him was rough against his skin, and the smell of smoke and death filled the air. His eyelids fluttered as consciousness teased him, bringing brief glimpses of a blurry figure leaning over him.
"Hey! Stay with me, buddy!" the voice shouted, desperate and commanding.
Leo tried to focus on the voice, but his vision swam. The figure knelt beside him, shaking his shoulders and cradling his head. A wave of nausea overtook him, and he slipped further into darkness.
The figure's voice came again, distant now, like an echo in a deep cave. "you've got this, come on now. Don't give up"
Leo's body went limp, and his world dissolved into black.
[Three Years Later]
The vastness of space stretched endlessly around a colossal space station floating high above Earth's ruined atmosphere. The station, an architectural marvel of gleaming metals and shimmering lights, stood as humanity's final refuge. Its silhouette shimmered against the backdrop of distant stars, an ark carrying the remnants of civilization.
Inside, sterile white walls and metallic floors formed an intricate labyrinth of corridors and rooms. One room, in particular, was vast and hauntingly silent, filled with rows upon rows of capsules. Each capsule glowed faintly, holding a single figure submerged in a bluish liquid, their bodies suspended in a dreamless slumber.
In the center of the room stood an older woman, her expression weary but determined. Dr. Nana, her once-youthful face now lined with age and sorrow, adjusted her glasses as she stared at one capsule in particular.
Inside, a young man floated, his body suspended in the liquid. His face was serene, but his toned muscles and the faint scars across his chest told a story of past battles. It was Leo, frozen in time, his fate now tethered to the machine that kept him alive.
Dr. Nana sighed deeply, placing her hand on the glass of the capsule. "It's time," she whispered, her voice cracking.
She moved to a nearby control panel, her fingers hesitating before pressing a series of buttons. A low hum filled the room as the capsule began to drain. The liquid swirled away, leaving Leo's limp body exposed to the cold air.
A shudder ran through his body, and his eyelids twitched. Slowly, painfully, his eyes opened, meeting the blinding white light of the room. He gasped for air, his chest heaving as if he'd been underwater for hours.
Leo's vision blurred, and he squinted at the figure standing before him. Everything was white—the room, the lights, even the clothes of the person in front of him. He groaned, his throat dry and raw.
The capsule opened with a faint hiss, and Leo collapsed forward. Before he hit the ground, Dr. Nana caught him, her arms surprisingly strong for her age.
"It's okay, Leo. You're safe," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.
Leo's body shivered violently as the cold air wrapped around him. His breaths came in ragged bursts, and his limbs felt like lead. "Wha–" he rasped, his voice barely audible.
Dr. Nana gently lowered him onto a pristine white bed that had been prepared nearby. "There,cool down a bit," she said softly, brushing his damp hair away from his face.
Leo's eyes fluttered shut, his strength waning. Dr. Nana placed a blanket over him and stayed by his side until his breathing evened out.
The room around them was silent, save for the soft hum of machinery. Dr. Nana glanced back at the rows of capsules, her heart heavy. Hundreds of people lay in their suspended state, oblivious to the world outside. They were humanity's last hope, preserved until a better future could be forged.
But the Earth they once called home was no longer the vibrant blue and green planet it had been. Through the large windows of the station, the view was haunting.
Earth hung in the void, a shell of its former self. The once-lush landscapes had been replaced by barren, rust-colored wastelands. The air was thick with swirling clouds of red dust, and the oceans had dried into cracked salt flats. The vibrant blues and greens that had symbolized life were gone, replaced by a desolate palette of browns and reds. It looked more like Mars than the cradle of humanity.
Dr. Nana pushed the bed through the corridors of the station, the wheels squeaking faintly against the metallic floor. The lights overhead reflected off the pristine walls, casting long shadows as they passed.
Leo stirred slightly but did not wake. His face was pale, his body still weak from the years spent in stasis. Dr. Nana glanced down at him, her expression a mixture of sorrow and determination.
They passed through a series of doors that slid open with a faint hiss, each one leading deeper into the station. Outside the windows, Earth loomed ever-present, a silent reminder of what they had lost.
Finally, they reached a small, private room. Dr. Nana gently transferred Leo onto a soft white bed and adjusted the controls of a nearby monitor. The screen displayed his vitals, which slowly began to stabilize.
She sat beside him, resting her head in her hands. For a moment, the weight of the past three years threatened to overwhelm her. But she pushed the thoughts aside.
Leo stirred again, his eyelids fluttering. Dr. Nana leaned closer, her voice gentle but firm. "Rest, Leo. You've been through so much, but you're alive. That's what matters."
His breathing slowed, and he slipped back into unconsciousness, his body finally able to begin the long process of healing.
As Dr. Nana sat in the quiet room, the station continued its endless orbit around the ruined planet below. Outside, the stars shone brightly, indifferent to the struggles of humanity.
And yet, amidst the devastation and loss, there was a spark of hope. For in Leo's survival, and in the slumbering forms of those still preserved in their capsules, lay the potential for a new beginning.