The walls were stained with dirt, the murals upon them hidden behind a thick layer of dust. Only small sections were visible, depicting a great city with buildings that scraped the sky, its streets illuminated by ships and planes.
Today, that city was nothing but rubble, reclaimed by nature and the savage beasts that had survived the nuclear winter.
Earth had been shattered by a nuclear war. The last remnant of civilization was the Ark Project.
This single structure where everything left of Earth was kept: the last of humanity, along with preserved plants and animals. It was dedicated to two purposes: avoiding extinction and restoring civilization.
Three missions were assigned to the Ark, three project teams. One team worked to engineer a human capable of surviving the harsh nuclear winter. Another sought to create a way to reach a new planetary home. The last attempted to build a time machine.
The final project yielded no results and was shut down, deemed impossible.
But the first was a success. After numerous failures, they managed to create me.
The only human capable of enduring this cataclysm. The problem? Reproduction seemed possible only by artificial means, and I consumed too many resources to create others of my kind. So, they shut down my project, too. I was created, raised, and educated here. They called me Adam.
First, they taught me about my capabilities. My bones, reinforced with carbon-nanotubes, could withstand immense pressure and radiation. My muscles were woven with augmented myofibers, capable of storing kinetic and electrical energy. My skin could absorb radiation and convert it into chemical energy. My cells could regenerate, like those of a jellyfish. My brain was enhanced with a quantum-biomechanical computer to accelerate thought and calculation. My senses were adaptable.
I was a monster in human skin.
Homo Ultima.
And as the name suggested, time passed.
They were all good people. Helena, especially, had taken care of me as if I were her own son.
We laughed together.
We ate together.
We aged together.
They all grew old until, tired of waiting, they asked me to place them in cryogenic chambers. They dreamed of a day when they might see Earth as it was before. When the grass was green, and plants and animals were plentiful.
I learned, I studied, and I helped with the second and final project. It was successful, but only 200 years after the last Homo sapiens was sealed away.
I promised them I would complete the project and restart humanity. And I meant it.
I retrieved the box from under the table and removed a watch. As I fastened it to my wrist, a needle pierced my skin.
The screen lit up.
[DNA SYNCHRONIZATION 01%]
The progress bar slowly filled.
- Finally.
[DNA SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETED]
[INSERT PLANET COORDINATES]
[ATLAS PLANET]
[DO YOU WISH TO CONFIRM?]
[YES/NO]
I clicked "Yes."
[TELEPORTATION IN 3 SECONDS]
2…
1…
————————-
I lost consciousness. I don't know for how long. When I woke, everything was a heavy, dark blue. A immense pressure weighed down on me. There was little light, and my eyes took a moment to adapt to the gloom.
When I looked around, I could see many of the creatures humans called fish, and others not so easily identified. I had never seen anything like them, even in videos or documentaries.
It didn't take long to understand I was at the bottom of the ocean.
I quickly looked at the teleport watch on my wrist. It was broken, likely shattered by the pressure and water. I tried to sigh, but I had no air left, surviving solely on my reserves of radioactive energy. The realization reminded me I needed to reach the surface within a reasonable time.
As I surveyed my surroundings, I noticed the place in front of me was not natural. It looked artificially created, like an ancient temple from a history book, with massive columns and a huge entrance leading into the darkness.
"Wasn't this planet supposed to be just full of wildlife? Why are there signs of sentient life?"
I was astonished, and a spark of excitement ignited within me. This answered one of humanity's oldest questions: Are we alone in the universe?
The answer was here. No.
"Helena would have been so eager to see this," I thought.
I steadied my heart and headed towards this "sanctuary."
The interior was carved with statues depicting a war or a great conflict. The most astonishing part was the creatures on the walls. All were humanoid in nature. Some were short and bulky, others slender and tall with pointed ears, and some were even truly human. The variety was immense. The long halls, illustrating armies and battles, all led to a central statue: a man seated on a throne of bones. He wore a helmet that looked both ancient and menacing, holding a scepter of bones pointed forward with a dignified air. Behind him, another wall depicted an army of monsters with strange compositions of flesh and bone.
"Probably some kind of local myth," I thought .
I finally approached the statue, close enough to touch it, to feel the stone.
When my fingers made contact, everything went blank.