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Earth.
A home to a million and one life forms. Some extinct. Some discovered.
With its accommodating atmosphere, stable climate, large bodies of water, and other factors, it was the perfect planet to live on.
That was before the Virtual Age began.
Mankind struggled and strived to make technology transform the world. And the Earth suffered for it.
Chemicals began to soil the land, contaminating plants and animals. As a result, food became scarce.
The atmosphere, polluted with toxic fumes, gave rise to new infirmities and diseases.
For years, the Earth's entire ecosystem was damaged, and mankind divided against itself, fighting for whatever resources they could get their hands on.
Fortunately, scientists came up with solutions to these problems, putting the planet back in balance.
Well, almost.
For you see, every action has a reaction. Inflation rose, along with the rate of poverty and greed. People were either forced to rise above it or be subdued.
The latter was the case for our little protagonist.
Jarad lived in a broken town where his alarm clock was the sound of yelling and gunshots. His lullaby? The terrified screams of people and, occasionally, the sound of fists and broken glass. Food was rare, and clean water was even rarer. He grew up malnourished, the pangs of hunger a daily struggle he had grown accustomed to.
Disaster struck when the slums were infected with an unknown virus. No one knew its source, but the infection spread among the inhabitants unpredictably, choosing its hosts at random. Unfortunately, Jarad was one of the chosen.
With his parents barely able to care for him and his sister, they were left with few options. One was to sell their infected child, as they weren't sure if the virus was contagious. Desperation left them with no choice but to consider it.
Then, out of nowhere, a group of specialists from a backwater company arrived, claiming to have a cure for the disease. They even offered to compensate the families of the infected. It sounded sketchy, but no one refused. Everyone was desperate for a way to survive, and so, in a way, Jarad and the others were all sold away—to God knows where.
They were herded onto a bus and, surprisingly, fed to their fill. No sane person would refuse good food, and indeed, it was good food.
Then—
Blank.
A gap in their memories. No one remembered what happened after the meal.
When they woke up, they were crammed together in a small, suffocating room. Over a hundred of them, all infected, packed like sardines in a can.
Then, they heard it. The voice of the man who had led them onto the bus.
"As of right now, there are two hundred of you here, all infected with the T-04 virus. You are here because you think we have a cure for this disease. But let me break it to you—we do not."
"What is he talking about?"
"What does he mean they don't have a cure? That's insane!"
Murmurs of disbelief rippled through the group.
One man, braver than the rest, stepped forward, his eyes darting around the room as he tried to locate the voice. "If you don't have the cure, then why did you bring us here? Just let us go back home."
"Yeah, you heard him!"
"We want to go home!"
"What's the point of keeping us here if you don't know what to do?!"
The voices rose in unison.
Then, in an instant, silence.
The brave man's head exploded, blood splattering onto those near him. The room fell into stunned quiet. A single scream tore through the air, a chilling wail of terror—but it was cut short.
"SILENCE," the doctor commanded.
And silence reigned.
Not a single word was spoken. The room was so still, one could hear every breath—or wonder if anyone dared to breathe at all.
"Is there anyone else here who wishes to speak their mind? I welcome it... Just know that after you speak, it will be your last."
No one spoke. A chilling stillness settled over them.
"Now, that's better. First of all, we need to cut your numbers down. You are far too many for this small room, so do yourselves a favor—reduce your numbers."
Still, nobody moved.
"Don't you understand me?" the doctor's voice grew impatient.
"Kill yourselves. I want you to kill yourselves."
The weight of his words settled in, and terror took hold.
The captives exchanged panicked glances, their minds racing. No one wanted to believe what they had just heard. Some clutched each other, trembling, while others instinctively stepped away, as if distance could somehow shield them from the horror of their situation.
A young woman, barely in her teens, let out a sob. The doctor clicked his tongue in disapproval.
"Very well," he sighed. "If you won't follow orders, then perhaps I should provide... encouragement."
A metallic clang echoed through the room as a panel in the ceiling shifted, revealing an array of turrets, their barrels swiveling ominously. The sight alone sent shivers through the captives, confirming their worst fears—this was not a test, nor an empty threat.
"I'll make this simple," the doctor continued. "Either you kill each other... or I kill all of you. The choice is yours."
A long, heavy silence followed. Then—
A scream. A scuffle. And the first blow was struck.