["Time and Again, classical music, playing in background"]
A tumultuous scene enveloped the entire base, with blaring alarms penetrating the air. Panic surged as inhabitants scurried from their quarters, hastily collecting any valuable belongings within reach. Laboratories ceased their operations, and ongoing projects were either being hastily concluded or left running with the optimistic expectation that they would autonomously shut down post-reactor deactivation. The entire facility was caught in the throes of a comprehensive shutdown.
Phase 1 of the reactor shutdown was already underway, delineating a sequence of measures. Five minutes following the reactor's deactivation, a wave of cessation swept through, targeting all extravagant devices—television sets, air conditioners, lounge game rooms, and the like. This marked the inception of the shutdown process. Subsequently, in Phase 2, everything except essential elements like lights and oxygen vents persisted for another 30 minutes. Phase 3 escalated the shutdown further, leaving only the vital oxygen vents operational.
With each phase accounting for roughly 30 minutes, the inhabitants had a narrow window of approximately two hours to evacuate before the base would plunge into complete darkness and powerlessness. The final phase loomed ahead, wherein the oxygen vents would also cease, and the expansive dome shielding the base would retract, releasing built-up pressure.
The chaotic state of the base was exacerbated by the sandstorm-induced damage to communication antennas, causing a delay in the transmission of evacuation orders. Now, with the belated news of the impending evacuation, the entire facility was engulfed in a frenzied rush to evacuate swiftly.
The lack of a premeditated plan resulted in a chaotic scenario, devoid of any semblance of order. In this unanticipated frenzy, individuals hastily bolted from their locations, driven by self-preservation with little regard for their fellow inhabitants. Adding to the pandemonium, even the robotic guides designed to assist personnel were rendered inoperative, as the base had already transitioned into Phase 2 of the shutdown.
["Music stops"]
"Oh, man, that was the best part," I exclaimed, tapping the soundboard positioned on my desk. Engrossed in my work at the lab, I remained oblivious to the hurried evacuation announcement. The peculiarities of my schedule, which didn't overlap with anyone else's, and the perpetual emptiness of the -2 floor lab added to my unawareness. The blaring alarms failed to register in my consciousness, drowned out by the resonant volumes of the music I was playing.
Exiting the lab, I discovered a hallway that retained its usual eerie silence, now intensified by the absence of the customary sounds emanating from robots and televisions. Stepping outside, I was greeted by the disconcerting sight of alarms in full swing. Bewilderment gripped me as I glanced around, only to find the notice board boldly proclaiming, "The Mars Project has been shutdown; evacuate immediately."
Shocked into action, I began frantically calling out to see if anyone else remained. "Hello?... Hello?!! Is anyone here? We need to leave... now!" Unfortunately, my cries echoed unanswered, suggesting that I was the sole occupant left in the desolate base. Determined to escape, I made a dash for the lift, only to find it non-operational due to the base being in Phase 2 of the shutdown.
Undeterred, I opted for the stairs, hastening through the eerily silent corridors, the alarms providing the sole audible accompaniment to my hurried footsteps. My destination was Zone 3, the cargo bay, where the evacuation ships were scheduled to land. The urgency of the situation propelled me forward, the prospect of reaching the designated evacuation point becoming the beacon guiding my frantic journey through the now-lifeless base.
["WARNING! Shutdown Phase 3 initiated"]
The base now found itself in the throes of its final stage, plunging into complete darkness as only the oxygen vents persevered. Navigating through the obsidian void, I relied on the scant illumination filtering in from the dome overhead. My haste intensified as I progressed, yet with each step away from Zone 1, the oxygen levels dwindled precipitously. Gasping for breath, the oppressive darkness pressed in, and by the time I reached the midpoint, a sharp pain in my chest served as a harrowing reminder of the diminishing oxygen supply.
Stifling the urge to panic, I halted to catch my breath, my surroundings revealed only by feeble beams of light penetrating the dome. It was in this moment of respite that the disheartening sight unfolded before me — the last evacuation ship, my fleeting lifeline, departing into the abyss. Desperation surged as I shouted and cried, hoping against hope that they might hear my pleas and halt their departure. Alas, my voice reverberated in the hollowed tracks of the transit, unanswered.
Overwhelmed with a sense of hopelessness, I sank to my knees, grappling with the realization that I had missed the final escape opportunity. A profound uncertainty gripped me as I pondered my next move. In an unexpected twist, my vision began to blur, and an encroaching darkness enveloped me. Before I could comprehend the unfolding events, everything succumbed to blackness, and consciousness slipped away.
My mind grappled with the impending specter of death. Abandoned by my own people, I found myself marooned in the desolate expanse of a city nestled within a desert on an alien planet. It was during this precarious moment that existential questions unfurled within my consciousness like tendrils seeking understanding.
The contemplation echoed through my mind: Was this the culmination of my journey, a forlorn demise in an unfamiliar cityscape on a distant desert world? I pondered the very purpose of our human presence in this extraterrestrial realm. Earth, the cradle of our existence, beckoned nostalgically, questioning the audacity of our venture into the cosmos. Yet, a profound realization struck me – the audacious leap beyond boundaries is the essence of evolution.
Millions of years ago, life dared to venture beyond the aqueous confines, and now, on the precipice of survival, humanity dared to transcend the terrestrial bounds of Earth. In this moment of profound introspection, I questioned my right to challenge the unfolding cosmic drama. Who was I in the grand tapestry of existence?
Amidst the metaphysical musings, a name surfaced – Jake Winters. I, Jake Winters, stood as one of the few human children born beyond the cradle of Earth, a pioneer destined to be the first to endure the Martian frontier. Summoning the reservoirs of strength within, I rallied against the encroaching unconsciousness and forged my path toward zone Z1.
With each step, the air became more abundant, dispelling the disorienting blur that clouded my senses. As clarity returned, I stumbled forward, the ebb and flow of movement accompanied by intermittent falls and triumphant rises. Finally reaching the inner bounds of Z1, I sought respite to contemplate my next move.
"The oxygen isn't going to last long. Once the power grid moves to its final phase, every bit of oxygen, including all the air and pressure inside the dome, is going to be released," I said to myself with distress. The entire base, as mentioned, was inside a giant dome, which protected it from outside conditions and kept the areas pressurized. This dome requires a lot of maintenance and costs a lot; that's why the final phase involves lowering the dome. Nobody really thought that this base would actually go into a shutdown since the Forzillus were so interested in the project. What the hell is wrong with that crazy woman? What is she trying to prove?
Engulfed in a sense of urgency, I resumed my journey, acutely aware that time was a scarce commodity. My immediate destination was the med bay within the central building. The prospect of obtaining an oxygen tank to sustain me in the critical moments ahead spurred me into swift action. Every passing second held profound significance.
Upon reaching the med bay, a new challenge confronted me — the storage area was securely locked, and unlocking it required the retrieval of a key. However, the luxury of time was a luxury I couldn't afford. Contemplating the situation, I opted for a drastic measure, deeming it the most pragmatic in the face of imminent danger. Drawing from an unexpected source of knowledge gained during a survival camp (certainly not of a nefarious nature), I improvised a small, controlled explosive device reminiscent of a C4.
With a calculated detonation, the door yielded, granting me access to the critical supplies within. I swiftly secured an oxygen tank, strapping it onto myself in a bid to fortify my chances of survival. Yet, with the immediate threat addressed, a new challenge emerged on the horizon. The impending removal of the dome meant that the pressurized environment crucial for my survival would dissipate. Stepping beyond the confines of the central tower would be perilous, risking the catastrophic explosion of my organs. The gravity of this realization underscored the precarious nature of my predicament.
Equipped with the life-sustaining oxygen, my thoughts crystallized, revealing a potential avenue for escape. Recollecting the sheer magnitude of the central building, Magna Aedaficium, I recalled that its towering structure breached the dome's upper limits. An exit, resembling a gate used by maintenance workers, promised access to the dome's exterior. The revelation sparked hope, hinting at the possibility of finding spacesuits within the expansive building.
As I prepared to embark on this new quest, a thunderous noise reverberated through the surroundings. Rushing to the lobby, I witnessed the grand spectacle of the giant dome opening, unveiling the Martian landscape. While undeniably beautiful, this revelation carried a stark truth — stepping outside now spelled certain death.
Contrary to the common misconception that the epicenter of a place is often its genesis, the genesis of the Mars project was not heralded by Magna Aedaficium. It wasn't the proverbial root from which the Martian endeavor sprouted. In fact, the inception of this ambitious project began humbly with a small, igloo-shaped bunker situated a mere few meters away from the initial landing site.
This unassuming igloo served as the international base for the Mars program for a span of five years. It was the modest nucleus around which the early stages of human exploration and habitation on the red planet revolved. However, the trajectory of the Mars project underwent a seismic shift when the enigmatic entity known as Forzillus entered the scene, assuming control of the initiative and infusing it with newfound financial support.
The metamorphosis of the Martian base unfolded gradually. The original camp, including the humble igloo, coalesced with the landing site, forming a more expansive and cohesive complex. As the Mars project evolved, the necessity for a more advanced and enduring base became apparent. Thus, the emergence of Z1 marked a pivotal juncture, with Magna Aedaficium assuming the role of the central edifice in this new phase of development.
This burgeoning complex expanded further, and the original sector transformed into what is now recognized as Z3. Each stage of this architectural evolution stands testament to human ingenuity and the relentless march of technological advancement.
As I ascended to the 12th floor, the maintenance room became my sanctuary. Inside, abandoned suits lay strewn about, evidence of the hurried departure of the workers. Slipping into one of the suits, I meticulously conducted the required checkups, ensuring everything was in working order. Equipped and prepared, I ventured outside, scanning each abyss below in search of any sign of life. Despite the collective desire for no one to endure such circumstances alone, in that moment, solitude was the last thing I desired, fueling my hope of encountering another soul amidst the desolation.
After an extensive search through the labyrinthine corridors of the Martian base, my journey brought me to a momentous discovery—I stood before the imposing main airlock. The main entrance to the colossal structure remained sealed, rendering these formidable armored airlocks at the cargo port as the sole operable means of entry or exit. Contemplating this enigmatic gateway, I grappled with the realization that, in the absence of power, the intricate hydraulics governing these colossal portals needed manual intervention to be coerced open.
Summoning a surge of determination, I embarked on the arduous task of manipulating the hydraulics manually. Gasping for breath, I exerted every ounce of strength to pry the airlock open, allowing just enough space for me to navigate through. The effort was herculean, a testament to the indomitable human spirit confronting the formidable challenges presented by the Martian terrain.
Stepping beyond the threshold, I was met with a stark transformation of scenery. The Martian desert sprawled before me, an expansive panorama bathed in hues of orange and red as far as the eye could discern. For the first time, I found myself immersed in the raw, unfiltered reality of Mars. The air, tinged with an otherworldly essence, marked my inaugural venture into the Martian outdoors, encapsulating the essence of what it truly meant to exist on the Red Planet.