Through the Distant Universe

Step by step, with the characteristic creak and heavy sigh of the exoskeleton's servos, I descended from the pile of twisted metal that had once been my temporary refuge – the remains of a colossal spaceship that had crashed onto the surface of this cursed planet. Every plate, every protrusion, every shard of metal underfoot told a silent story of violence and destruction, echoing with the faint screams of others. The world stretched before me, as far as the eye could see – an endless, scorched wasteland, strewn with the debris of what had once been a civilization. In the distance, on the horizon, something resembling a city loomed as a barely discernible silhouette – a ghostly promise of something more substantial than this endless dust.

For several hours, I had been pushing my way through what, according to the scarce data from the AI, had once been a suburb. Scattered, uniform ruins. The husks of structures, once probably cozy homes with green lawns and children's laughter, now looked like rotten teeth in a dead maw. They stood close together, as if pressed against each other in a final, futile embrace before inevitable doom. Through shattered windows gaped empty eye sockets, through which a faint, yet persistent, wind whistled. In places, charred car frames lay on their sides, frozen in a chaotic flight that never succeeded. These vehicles, by the way, were wheel-less, suggesting they flew on anti-gravity, gliding above the surface. Now they were just a heap of melted metal, silent witnesses to how the world had collapsed. Everything spoke of suddenness, of people having no chance. No one managed to flee, no one could hide. Death caught everyone at once.

The air here, on the surface, was more acrid than inside the ship's sealed, rusted compartments. It seeped through the filters of my mask, settling on my tongue, leaving an aftertaste of rust and oblivion, scratching my throat. I felt my lungs, already irritated by the poison, react to each breath, burning as if acid were slowly being poured into them. My body was a walking wound, and every element of the environment only aggravated it.

Silence. That was the most terrible thing. Not merely the absence of sound, but an absolute, oppressive stillness, as if the world itself held its breath and waited. It swallowed even the dull thuds of my own steps, turning them into barely audible rustles, into insignificant disturbances in this grand vacuum. Only the rare creak of the exoskeleton, the faint sigh of the life support systems, broke this dead symphony. And in this silence, I began to sense… something.

Sometimes, a shadow flickered at the periphery of my vision – too fast to clearly see, too fleeting to be real. It appeared and vanished like a ghostly echo of long-past events, a play of light and twisted metal in the rays of the dull, eternally overcast sky. The AI, my sole companion and guide, remained silent, registering nothing anomalous. No thermal signatures, no movements, no electromagnetic disturbances. And since the AI was so impassive, I wasn't particularly worried. However, an inexplicable tension still hung in the air, piercing me to the bone, making my instincts scream of danger that had no form but was everywhere. I was certain: something was definitely wrong here.

I walked. Just walked. Onward. Constantly scanning my surroundings, trying to find the source of this unease. The wasteland stretched to the horizon, merging with the grey, lifeless sky, which never cleared, perpetually shrouded in a dense, dirty veil of clouds. Mountains of debris, heaving like scars on the planet's body. Twisted skeletons of structures, jutting from the earth like the broken bones of giants, testifying to a catastrophe of unprecedented scale. Everything around me screamed of death, of a finale that had struck here so suddenly and mercilessly.

And then, amidst this absolute nothingness, I stumbled upon something that stood out, something that pierced the veil of oblivion. A colossal matte-black column, about twenty meters high, proudly rose above the wreckage, like a monument to someone's madness. On its surface, an perfectly symmetrical symbol was carved: a star with rays emanating from it. Even after so many years, it still stood proudly, outliving its creators. Unfortunately, the text that, by all accounts, once surrounded the symbol was impossible to read: in its place yawned a huge, seemingly melted hole. As if someone, in a cruel jest, had decided to erase it, tearing away a piece of history, leaving only this enigmatic symbol.

A little further on, beneath a pile of rusty iron, I noticed a silhouette – small, charred, but recognizable. I approached and, in a couple of minutes, moved aside the pieces of metal, concrete, and dust. It was a toy. A simple figure of a soldier. Dressed in precisely the same uniform as the dead soldiers I had encountered earlier in the ship's wreckage – dark uniform, high boots, a miniature rifle in its plastic hand. Despite everything, the toy was remarkably well-preserved. It looked as if it had been dropped just moments ago, not decades or centuries. Its helmet, though covered in a layer of dust, still held a trace of confidence in tomorrow.

I looked at it for a moment, feeling a strange, inexplicable connection to this silent piece of the past. It seemed this tiny figure was the last fragment of humanity in this dead world. I put it in my backpack, to keep as a memento.

I glanced at the other things that could be seen under the rubble, but found nothing but wreckage and trash. My gaze merely swept over them, lingering for a moment longer than usual. These discoveries were like threads, connecting me to those who had lived here before "the end." They only amplified the oppressive silence, filling it with an unbearable sense of profound, all-consuming loneliness. I was the last human on this dead earth, perhaps the last human anywhere.

But also – a strange, unseen presence. As if the shadows of the dead were watching me, and the dead world – felt my footsteps, responding with phantom sounds and shadows. I was alone, but I felt part of something much larger than just a lost wanderer. Every creak of the exoskeleton, every rustle of wind among the debris seemed not just a sound, but a message addressed only to me.

Gradually, the suburban ruins began to change. The houses grew taller, denser, forming a semblance of streets intertwined with a web of ruined roads. I knew I was approaching what the AI had designated as the "Central Administrative-Residential Sector." Simply put, it was a relatively small city, stretching out in the distance. And there, amidst this concrete sea, even through the veil of dust and dead light, I could make them out – once-majestic skyscrapers. Their sharp, broken peaks pierced the grey sky like jagged blades. Some were pierced through, others – melted beyond recognition, their mirrored facades forever erased. They stood like obelisks, dedicated to a long-departed civilization whose pride had been shattered to dust.

At one point, my scanning system, usually so impartial, issued a barely perceptible warning: "Attention: Anomalous energy signature. Source: unknown. Status: highly unstable. Recommendation: avoid contact."

The signal vanished immediately, as if the system stumbled and decided to remain silent. I froze, listening to my internal sensations. This was not like standard readings from radiation or residual energy. This was… different. I felt a slight tingling on my skin, not pain, but more like the sensation of static electricity in the air. It quickly disappeared, leaving only a faint taste of fear on my tongue.

I looked around, but saw nothing but ruin.

"Are you sure?" I asked into the void, addressing the AI.

Several seconds of silence, which felt like an eternity, passed before the AI responded in its impassive synthetic voice: "Clarify your question."

"But you just detected some anomalous signature," I tried to keep my voice calm, but a sense of exasperation was building.

"Negative. No data is being received. It is most likely that your exhaustion is causing hallucinations. It is recommended to proceed to a major settlement to find supplies and a place to rest."

I was about to object, but a deep cough interrupted me. The AI was right. I desperately needed to find water, or I wouldn't get much further. My body screamed for hydration, and the poison relentlessly devoured me from within. This anomaly could be anything, but right now, it wasn't my primary concern.

I continued to walk, my gaze fixed on the silhouettes of the distant skyscrapers. This was my sole objective, my only compass in this world without bearings. Every step was a struggle. But I wouldn't give up. I couldn't give up. I was the only one left.

Sometimes, I caught myself looking for what could be home. Not even a home, just... a place where I could breathe freely, where there wouldn't be this oppressive silence, these ghostly shadows. But such a place didn't exist. Only debris remained. Remnants. Only death.

Interesting.

Will I ever be able to return home?