One day ago
I crawled out of the ruins, only to feel a gun silently pressed against my back.
Cautiously, I raised my hands, signalling that I was no threat, and turned around slowly.
His face was terrified, exhausted. I guessed he hadn’t slept in a comfortable bed or had a decent meal in a long time — just like me; just like everyone else.
But when he saw me, the terror on his face faded, to be replaced by a sense of relief, a kind of peace.
I understood why.
I saw myself in his eyes: a 14-year-old girl. A victim of the colonizers. A child who posed no threat.
Sixty days ago
The alien colonizers arrived on Earth, bringing guns, carriers, cannons — and the nanobot plague. The nanobots burrowed into our bodies through our spinal cords, roaming inside us, slowly eating us from the inside out.
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“These nanobots will torment you,” the colonizers said, “until only one of you remains. Then they will stop.”
We understood — they wanted us to kill each other.
That way, the colonizers didn’t have to risk fighting us directly. They only had to wait, and then reap the benefits.
The adults exchanged glances, seeing the same thing in each other’s eyes — eyes like those of wolves.
People are willing to pay any price to survive.
Now
I am the last survivor.
The colonizers have taken me aboard their mothership.
They have no homeland. They merely drift through the Universe, searching for a place to stay awhile. Like locusts, they devour everything in their path before moving on to the next world.
I stand before the Chief Governor as it scrutinizes me, its eyes filled with doubt.
This is the first time they have brought the survivor onto their mothership. I suppose because I am a just harmless child.
“The nanobots never make mistakes. You are indeed the last survivor.” The Governor’s voice is sharp and surprised. “But you are just a weak child. How did you kill everyone else and live to the end?”
I refuse to kneel. Instead, I meet its gaze head-on.
Like all the other colonizers, the Governor resembles a jellyfish, with a small, stunted body. I am only 14 — a mere child — yet I tower above it.
The Governor shrinks into its throne, shifting uncomfortably.
I stand here a slave, a prisoner — yet, somehow, it feels as though I am the one looking down on it.
I say, “We possess a power you cannot comprehend.”
Now
To study my power, they keep me aboard the ship.
But they are lax in guarding me — because I am no threat, because they have won the war with ease and are now busy enjoying the spoils of their victory.
And so, I wander freely around the ship.
At last, I find what I need: a hidden room, large enough to contain a complete set of reproductive equipment.
Sixty days ago
People were willing to pay any price to survive, not through slaughtering one another, but by sacrificing for each other.
After a selection process, millions of test subjects were sent to the lab. There, a DNA sequence was added to their genetic code — one that would be passed down through generations. This sequence contained trillions of strings, representing the genetic code of all humanity.
After the experiment, only 1,000 participants survived. Of those, only 23 showed no rejection of the modification. I was one of those 23.
Day after day, I witnessed people sacrificing themselves — first my grandmother and grandfather, then my father and mother. After that, my teachers, the older students at school, and my friends.
