In the year 2800 , Earth had become a desolate wasteland, scarred by the consequences of humanity's relentless pursuit of fossil fuels. The once-bountiful planet had been drained of its resources, and wars broke out as nations fought over the dwindling reserves. The devastating conflicts further accelerated the planet's decline, leaving a grim future for humankind.
Amidst this chaos, a group of visionary scientists and leaders came together, realizing that Earth was beyond salvation. They conceived a daring plan to ensure the survival of humanity and preserve its knowledge and potential for the future. The world's most brilliant minds, influential figures to save themselves.
A colossal spaceship, aptly named the "Ark," was constructed a testament to human ingenuity and determination , thus leaving there mother land die or maybe it was for the better .
***
In the year 2923 the old generations died and new ones took over , a different system of governance emerged, characterized by a hierarchical structure with a royal family and nobility at the top, overseeing the normal working class. This system was established as a form of dictatorship, where power was centralized in the hands of a single ruler who inherited their position .
The royal family, descendants of the original founders of the Ark, held the highest authority. They maintained a hereditary monarchy, passing down leadership from generation to generation. The ruler, typically referred to as the King or Queen, made all major decisions regarding resource allocation, policies, and the overall direction of Ark.
the nobility comprised individuals who were chosen by the monarch for their loyalty, expertise, or contributions to the Ark. The nobles acted as advisors to the ruler, offering counsel and overseeing specific areas of governance. They held influential positions and enjoyed privileges and status within Ark's society.
And then you have The normal working class, which constituted the majority of the population, comprised individuals who were assigned various roles and responsibilities based on their skills, qualifications.
In the depths of the giant ship , hidden away from the knowledge of the general population, existed a class known as the "Preservation Class." However, their official title was a mere facade, as their lived reality resembled that of slaves. These individuals were subjected to harsh treatment, confined within the dark confines of the sewers and the aging engine of Ark. Among them were elderly and young children, a marginalized group forced to endure unimaginable hardships.
Denied the basic freedoms enjoyed by others aboard the ship , the Preservation Class was isolated from the outside world, their existence unknown to the mundane folk. They labored under oppressive conditions, their work essential to sustaining the functioning of the Ark, yet their contributions went unnoticed and unacknowledged.
Considered expendable and disposable, the Preservation Class faced neglect and mistreatment. Their lives were confined to the shadows, unseen and unheard by those who inhabited the more privileged parts of the Ark. Their struggles and suffering went unnoticed, buried deep within the underbelly of the vessel.
***
Amidst the clamor of machinery, the clanking of metal, and the echo of footsteps, an unsettling scene unfolds.
"Hey! Get back to work if you want a meal tonight!"
shouts a man dressed in a uniform similar of a police officer, his voice filled with menace. He looms over an elderly man who has fallen to the ground.
"Get up, old man! Don't think you can escape punishment!".
The old man, trembling, quickly rises and scurries back to his duties, offering a feeble apology.
Amidst the commotion, the piercing cries of a kid fill the air. Another uniformed figure appears, dragging a frail young boy along.
"I swear, I'll go back to work!" pleads the boy.
His words fall on deaf ears as he is forcefully brought before the first officer, who shoves him, causing him to collapse onto the floor. The officer speaks with an air of authority.
"So, you've caught him slacking off again?" he asks.
"Yes, sir. I found him hiding amongst the pipes," replies the second officer, an indifferent tone in his voice.
The young boy looks up, attempting to maintain a fake smile as he addresses the supervisor.
"Please, supervisor, I was feeling sick and just needed a moment of rest".
The supervisor gazes down at him, unamused by the excuse.
"It's not the first time, Rylan. Perhaps we haven't beaten you enough".
The boy's smile widens, and he replies cheerfully.
"I can't seem to get enough of your beatings, sir. They make me feel... alive."
The young officer, repulsed by the boy's demeanor, turns away, dismissing him. Rylan, believing he's escaped further punishment, attempts to leave, but his hopes are dashed.
"Where do you think you're going? I've called your older brothers to give you a proper lesson" says the supervisor.
Rylan mutters a curse under his breath and turns around, forcing a false smile.
"Ah, if it isn't my dear older brothers. How delightful to see you!"
Five young adults emerge from the shadows, looking gaunt and dressed in tattered clothing, yet displaying a strength that sets them apart from the other workers.
"Hey, Rylan. Still getting yourself into trouble, I see. As your older brothers, we must teach you some manners," the leader remarks.
The officer turns away, about to leave, and issues a warning.
"Make sure we don't catch him slacking off again, or you'll face the consequences as well."
The young adults flinch, rushing to restrain the boy. With a single punch from their leader, Rylan crumples to the ground, curling into a protective ball. The others proceed to rain down blows from all angles, while Rylan endures, enduring the assault in a fetal position.
***
"Kid! Kid, wake up!"
Rylan slowly opened his eyes, greeted by the sight of a frail old man standing before him. The man appeared pale and worn, his face etched with worry. He glanced around, ensuring no supervisors were nearby.
"Wake up and get back to work if you don't want to go through that again," the old man urged
Rylan mustered the strength to sit up, wincing as pain surged through his battered body.
'They really gave me a beating this time' gritting his teeth.
Forcing himself to his feet, Rylan grabbed some tools and stumbled back to his station. The hours passed, filled with the monotonous clanging of machinery and the collective labor of the workers. Soon, the sound of bells ringing signaled the end of their shift.
After walking for a bit they arrived at a large bleak room large enough to accommodate multiple rows of tables on one side and rows of beds on the other.
As they entered, another group of workers in identical attire passed by, having completed their shift. The engines never ceased their ceaseless hum; they required constant attention. Rylan headed straight for the tables, where a meager meal awaited him—a block of compressed and unappetizing paste made from leftover vegetables and meat. He sat at a table, hunched over, and began to consume his sustenance alongside a questionable-looking cup of water.
Lost in his weariness and pain, Rylan was jolted from his thoughts as a voice addressed him. He looked up to find the concerned face of the old man who had awakened him earlier.
"Are you okay?" the old man asked, genuine concern etched on his features.
Rylan managed a faint smile in response.
"Alive and kicking"
The old man let out a weary sigh, his voice filled with a mix of caution and care.
"You need to be careful, my boy. Don't provoke them too much, or they might truly kill you."
Rylan stared down at his meager meal, his expression turning distant and empty.
"Like I care... Perhaps it would be better that way," he whispered, his voice barely audible.