Year 2185

Humans have settled down on Mars. Well, most of them did. There are still people living on Earth, a planet now marred by the scars of war. It's an Earth where acid rain falls regularly, washing away the remnants of what was once a vibrant world.

Hmm… What did you say? Why is there acid rain on Earth? That's a good question, and I'd be happy to explain.

In the year 2050, a devastating war broke out—World War III, to be precise. Some countries chose to ignore the treaty that prohibited the use of nuclear weapons, and as you can imagine, things escalated quickly. All of you know what happened next: nations retaliated with nuclear warheads, resulting in the catastrophic loss of 7 billion lives, leaving only about 3 billion people behind.

The fallout from these nuclear explosions plunged the world into a nuclear winter, shrouding the planet in darkness and despair. As global tensions remained high and fear of World War IV loomed, countries scrambled to develop new technologies in a desperate bid for survival.

During this time, scientists proposed an audacious idea: why not send some humans to Mars? The hope was that if Earth became uninhabitable, our species would still have a chance to survive on the red planet. This sparked a flurry of research and innovation, and scientists dedicated themselves to finding ways to send people to Mars, determined to secure the future of humanity.

You know what they say: war brings about a hundred years of peace—and a significant leap in technology. Amidst the chaos and the relentless acid rain, the breakthrough came. After years of tireless work, they developed a method to create a natural, artificial environment on Mars. In just 15 years, the landscape of Mars began to transform, resembling a habitable world, albeit in its infancy.

Engineers and scientists worked day and night, constructing advanced spaceships designed to carry people to their new home. After 25 years of dedicated effort, the flagship spacecraft was finally ready. It was a monumental achievement, aptly named The Nova's Ark. As the name suggested, it was a colossal ship capable of transporting 3 million people, along with the genetic material of various animals, to ensure the continuation of life.

When the moment finally arrived in 2095, The Nova's Ark was deployed, soaring through the atmosphere and leaving behind the ravaged Earth for its new home on Mars. And that, kids, is how our parents came to inhabit Mars.

The bell rang, cutting through the air as the teacher finished her story.

She began to gather her materials, preparing to leave, when her gaze fell on the last row of benches. There, slumped over and oblivious to the world, was Jaxx—fast asleep.

A frown creased her brow, and irritation bubbled up inside her. "Jaxx!" she yelled, her voice echoing in the suddenly silent classroom. "Were you sleeping in class?"

Startled awake, Jaxx blinked groggily, struggling to straighten himself. "N-no, ma'am," he stammered, his words tumbling out like a jumbled mess.

The teacher strode over, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. She grasped his ear firmly, eliciting a yelp of pain. "Jaxx, do you not want to pass 10th grade? You know history has the highest marks of all subjects, right?"

Jaxx winced, his face flushed as he managed to mumble, "Ye… yes, ma'am." The laughter of his classmates filled the air, their giggles a chorus of mockery.

"Then why were you sleeping in history class?" she pressed, her grip tightening as he squirmed.

"I... I'm sorry! I won't sleep again in class!" Jaxx exclaimed, desperation creeping into his voice as the laughter grew louder around him.

The teacher released him with a huff, shaking her head in disbelief. As she turned to leave, the classroom erupted in laughter, Jaxx's humiliation hanging heavy in the air.

Jaxx, however, was not one to respect promises. As soon as the teacher left the classroom, he slumped back down, surrendering to the comfortable embrace of sleep once more.

When he finally stirred awake, a rush of panic hit him. Glancing around, he realized the classroom was empty and the final bell had rung. He had slept through the end of the school day, and he was the last one left. Groaning, he quickly grabbed his bag and hurried out of the classroom, embarrassment creeping up his neck.

Jaxx walked with his head down, trudging along the familiar path that stretched for thirty minutes between his school and home. The weight of his thoughts felt heavier with every step. Man, I'm already 16 years old. Why am I so average?

He glanced down at his worn shoes, reflecting on his life. I don't have any talent. I'm just average-looking. This shabby house—left to me by my dead parents—feels like a constant reminder of what I lack. I'm struggling to feed myself each week.

As these thoughts swirled in his mind, he caught a glimpse of the city to his right. The vibrant metropolitan skyline was alive with color, tall buildings reaching toward the sky, adorned with holographic ads that floated like dreams above the streets below.

I'm so envious, he thought wistfully. If only my grandparents had been rich on Earth and hadn't come to Mars as workers to build this society, maybe I could have a life in one of those towering buildings.

He shook his head, trying to push the envy away. But thinking like this won't change my situation, he reminded himself. I still have to work the night shift at the convenience store.

With each step toward home, he resolved to make the most of what he had, even if it felt like an uphill battle.

As Jaxx arrived near his home, the vibrant lights of the metropolitan city faded into the background, replaced by the grim reality of his neighborhood. He glanced at the alleyway filled with trash, beggars huddled for warmth, and broken houses that seemed to sag under the weight of despair. The environment felt more reminiscent of Earth's struggles than the promise of a new frontier.

With a deep sigh, Jaxx shook his head in disappointment. This wasn't the life he had imagined. He pushed open the door to his one-room flat, a space that was little more than a bed and a table. The simplicity of it was suffocating. He dropped his bag on the floor, the dull thud echoing in the silence, then quickly peeled off his clothes, eager to wash away the day's fatigue.

After a quick shower, he emerged feeling slightly more human. The water had offered a brief respite, but the reality of his circumstances was ever-present. Jaxx rummaged through the small pantry, finding a loaf of bread and a carton of milk that were already a week past their prime. He grimaced but knew he had to eat. After swallowing the last bite, he felt a pang of regret mixed with hunger.

With his stomach barely settled, he decided to rest his eyes for just fifteen minutes before heading out for his night shift. As he lay on the bed, he let the exhaustion wash over him, wondering if tomorrow might be different—or if it would just be another day in the same relentless cycle.

Three years later…

Jaxx jolted awake, the sunlight streaming through the window striking him like a bolt of lightning. Panic surged through him as he glanced at the clock: it was already 10 AM.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he exclaimed, his heart racing as panic surged through him. Memories of his last job flooded back—he had been caught sleeping during his night shift at the convenience store, a humiliating mistake that cost him dearly. That position had been a lifeline, recommended by a close friend of his father's, and now here he was, already late on the first day of his new job. He couldn't afford to lose this opportunity.

With barely a moment to gather himself, Jaxx scrambled out of bed. He rushed through his morning routine, barely managing to brush his teeth before hopping into the shower. The water felt refreshing but fleeting as he hurriedly washed himself, knowing he didn't have time to waste.

After a quick towel-dry, he darted to the kitchen and grabbed the last few bites of stale bread, washing it down with a gulp of milk that had seen better days. His stomach churned, but he couldn't afford to be picky.

Without a second thought, he threw on the first clothes he could find and dashed out the door, anxiety bubbling in his chest. As he hurried down the familiar path to the new job, his mind raced with thoughts of what he would say if he arrived late. I can't mess this up. I need this job.

As Jaxx arrived at the job site, he felt a knot of anxiety twist in his stomach. The moment he stepped inside, he was met with the piercing gaze of his supervisor, a grizzled man in his fifties with a booming voice that echoed across the bustling workspace.

"Young man, you're already late on your first day!" the supervisor bellowed, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief.

Jaxx felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I apologize, sir. I slept longer than I intended," he replied, forcing a sheepish smile. "I promise it won't happen again!"

The old man took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. After a moment, he replied, "Fine, I'll forgive you this time. But you need to get your act together. Follow me; I'll show you the area where you'll be working."

Relieved, Jaxx nodded enthusiastically. "Okay, sir! Thank you!" he said, grateful for the second chance.

As they walked through the facility, Jaxx's nerves began to ease. He focused on taking in his new surroundings, determined to make a good impression and prove he was worthy of this opportunity.

The supervisor stopped in front of a large, sprawling area filled with heaps of discarded metal and fragments of old spacecraft. "Here is where you'll start working from today—Sector 12 of the junkyard," he explained, gesturing toward the chaotic landscape of twisted metal and debris. "Your job is to collect space junk from the shuttles that have been decommissioned.

Jaxx stared at the piles of debris in disbelief. "Wait, wait, wait—this is what the job is?"

The old supervisor raised an eyebrow, confusion evident on his face. "Young man, what are you saying? Didn't you already know this job involves collecting useful space junk?"

Jaxx shook his head, still processing the reality of the situation. "Well, I didn't know it was a junk-collecting job. It was recommended by my father's close friend, so I didn't think much about it."

The old man crossed his arms, annoyance creeping into his voice. "Oh, so you came here without knowing anything? Well, do you still want this job or not?"

Jaxx hesitated for a moment, weighing his options. He knew he was out of choices. Man, I don't have a job. I might as well take this job to feed myself. "Yes, I'll take it," he replied, steeling himself for the task ahead.

The old supervisor gave a curt nod. "Alright, young man, now start working already. Pick as many good parts as you can from these junk space shuttles. I'll be heading out now."

Just as he turned to leave, he paused. "Oh, and one more thing. Be sure to grab a protective suit from the garage. Wear it whenever you're handling this space junk."

Jaxx, still baffled, furrowed his brow. "Why do I need a protective suit for just some scraps?"

The old man's voice grew firm, almost passionate. "These aren't just any scraps. They came from space. Sometimes they carry unknown viruses, harmful enough to put people in danger. Don't take any risks, kid."

The supervisor gave Jaxx a serious look before walking off. "And one last thing—before you leave the junkyard, make sure to get checked by the doctors. We can't risk anyone carrying any viruses out from here. Understood?"

Jaxx nodded, the weight of the job finally settling in. "Understood," he muttered, realizing this was more than just another gig.

After the supervisor left, Jaxx started heading toward the garage to grab the protective suit. As he walked inside, he found it hanging loosely on a hook. He grabbed it and immediately felt disappointed.

"What is this?" Jaxx muttered in disbelief as he examined the suit. It was covered in small holes, the material thin and worn down. "This is supposed to be protective?"

He frowned, holding the suit up to the light. The patches of fraying fabric were so obvious that he wondered how anyone could consider this even remotely safe. "Instead of wearing this thing, wouldn't I be just as fine without it?" he grumbled, clearly irritated.

Jaxx let out a frustrated sigh, knowing he had little choice but to wear the tattered suit if he wanted to keep the job.

Jaxx reluctantly pulled on the worn-out suit, gritting his teeth at how uncomfortable it felt. The fabric scratched against his skin, and the holes in it didn't help with the cold draft seeping through. After adjusting the ill-fitting gear, he headed toward Sector 12 of the junkyard.

As he walked through the endless piles of twisted metal and rusted debris, he could hear the distant hum of machinery. The area was littered with discarded parts of space shuttles, old equipment, and fragments from long-abandoned projects. It was a grim reminder of the leftovers of Mars' progress, and now it was Jaxx's job to sift through it all.

It had been 10 days since Jaxx started the job, and much to his surprise, he found himself enjoying it. The junkyard was quiet, with no one constantly watching over him. He could slack off whenever he wanted, and no one would notice.

He'd even stumbled upon some unique pieces of space junk—old, rusted, but intriguing enough to keep him curious. His supervisor wasn't too bad either, strict at times but not overbearing. Jaxx leaned back on a pile of scrap, a small grin on his face.

"Man, this isn't bad after all," he muttered to himself, feeling a sense of ease he hadn't felt in a long time.

After a long and strenuous day of slacking off, Jaxx was more than ready to call it a day. He dragged himself toward the garage, where he hung up the worn-out protective suit that had barely done its job. He stretched his arms, feeling the stiffness from hours of doing nothing, and yawned.

"Well, that's enough work for one day," he muttered, smirking at the thought of how little he'd actually done.

As he left the garage, he headed toward the medical station for his mandatory check-up before leaving the scrapyard. It was routine, but the idea of potential space viruses still made him uneasy.

After just 10 days on the job, Jaxx had already gotten to know nearly everyone at the scrapyard—his colleagues, the guards, and even the medical staff. As he walked into the medical bay, he spotted Dr. Link sitting at his desk, typing away on his terminal.

"Hey, Link. How's it going?" Jaxx greeted, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Dr. Link looked up from his work, smirking. "What's up, Jaxx? You here for the usual checkup again?"

"Yeah," Jaxx replied with a grin. "And hey, could you make it quick this time? I haven't eaten a thing since morning, and I'm starving. If you could get me through before anyone else, I'd appreciate it."

Dr. Link chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, alright, let's get this over with."

Dr. Link began his routine checkup, starting with the basics. "Alright, Jaxx, open your eyes wide," he instructed, shining a small light to check Jaxx's pupils. "Good. Now open your mouth and stick your tongue out... perfect."

Jaxx followed along, feeling a little impatient.

"Give me your hand," Link continued, wrapping his fingers around Jaxx's wrist to check his pulse. "Do you feel anything different? Any odd sensations?"

Jaxx paused, thinking it over. "Hmm... nope, nothing different."

"Pulse is normal," Link confirmed, scribbling something on his pad. "Now, let's get a blood sample. Give me your finger."

Jaxx sighed, extending his hand. "Still don't like needles, even after ten days of this."

Link smirked, shaking his head as he prepared the needle. "Man, you're a grown ass adult, still scared of needles? Come on."

"Stop making fun of me," Jaxx muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Alright, alright," Link said, chuckling as he placed the blood sample into the machine. "Once this finishes processing, you'll be good to go."

Jaxx slumped back, clearly frustrated. "Yeah, yeah, I know the drill."

After ten minutes of waiting, Jaxx's world was thrown into chaos. All of a sudden, loud sirens blared across the facility, piercing the air with an urgent, mechanical voice repeating, "Warning, warning, warning. A virus casualty has been detected in a patient's blood. Virus unidentified. For safety measures, please evacuate immediately."

Jaxx's heart pounded in his chest as he shot up from his seat. "What's happening?" he yelled, looking around frantically. But no one answered him. The entire facility was in disarray, with people sprinting for the exits, panic written all over their faces.

Terrified and confused, Jaxx followed the rush of his coworkers, trying to make his way out of the chaos. But before he could make it far, a group of guards in full hazmat suits blocked his path. Their imposing figures loomed over him, faceless behind their protective visors.

"Wait, what's going on?!" Jaxx shouted, backing up in fear.

The guards didn't respond. Instead, they advanced swiftly, one of them pulling out a syringe. Jaxx's eyes widened in horror as he tried to run, but it was too late. He felt a sharp prick in his neck, and the world around him quickly faded to black.

When he woke up, groggy and disoriented, he found himself in a cold, sterile room. The metallic walls reflected the dim light, and the soft hum of machinery filled the space. His arms and legs were restrained, and a distant beeping sound echoed in the background.

Jaxx's heart raced as the realization hit him: he was trapped

Jaxx slowly regained consciousness, his vision blurry as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. The stark white walls of the room seemed to blur together, creating an eerie sense of isolation. He blinked a few times, trying to shake off the fog in his mind, his body still heavy from whatever they had injected him with. Across from him sat a familiar figure, holding a report in his hands.

"Link... is that you?" Jaxx mumbled, his voice weak.

Link glanced up from the papers, his expression tense. "Yes, Jaxx."

Jaxx, still disoriented, rubbed his eyes, trying to piece together what had happened. "What's going on? Why am I in this white room?"

The tension in the air was palpable as Jaxx waited for an answer, his mind racing with questions.

Link sighed, his face a mix of relief and concern. "We detected a virus in your blood, and the facility didn't know what kind it was. The alarm was triggered, and in the panic, we had to put you unconscious."

Jaxx's heart raced as Link continued. "Fortunately, though, the virus in your body isn't lethal to the people around you, but..."

Jaxx's voice trembled with worry. "But what? What's going to happen to me?"

Link's expression shifted to one of deep concern. "I'm sorry to say, but the virus you have is called Viremia-2. It infects the body and integrates into the host's cellular structure. For five weeks, it remains dormant, subtly weakening vital organs and altering their regeneration cycles.

"At the end of this period, the virus activates, triggering a rapid replication cycle that overwhelms the immune system. This leads to a swift deterioration of cellular integrity and organ function, resulting in death precisely 50 days after infection. The virus's deceptive nature creates a false sense of security before it unleashes its deadly effects."

Jaxx stared blankly at the floor, his mind racing yet somehow numb to the reality of what he had just heard. "Fifty days to live," he muttered under his breath, the words barely registering as they echoed in his mind. The sterile white room felt suffocating, closing in around him as he grappled with the weight of Link's revelation.

Time seemed to lose all meaning. For two hours, he sat there in silence, thoughts swirling chaotically. Images of his life flashed before his eyes: the struggles, the small victories, the endless cycle of working at the junkyard, and the fleeting moments of hope that seemed so distant now.

He thought of his parents, the modest flat he called home, and the friends he'd made in this new job. Each memory felt bittersweet, tainted by the looming deadline that now dictated his existence. A deep sense of despair washed over him, and he found himself questioning everything—his choices, his future, and whether he would even have a chance to change his fate.

With a heavy heart, Jaxx finally lifted his gaze, staring blankly at the wall as he attempted to process the enormity of his situation.