The base’s refectory was a cold, utilitarian space—nothing but brushed metal and robotic servers. It was quiet, almost melancholic, except for one corner where the team sat. They were loud, laughing and talking, but behind every grin lingered a shadow of dread.
Locky, now calmer after the grueling simulation, watched Jack. The kid was eating like a beast, shoveling mouthfuls of protein mash and hydration gel into his mouth as if it were his last meal.
“Hey, Jack,” Locky said, his voice steady but low. “You’re… not worried about us leaving? You’re sixteen. If even I’m feeling the weight of this at twenty, I’d imagine you are too.”
Jack swallowed and paused for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was low and slightly raspy.
“Of course I am,” Jack replied. “I’m leaving my dad, my sister… everything. I’m doing this to find a new home for them. For all of us. Even if I have to die for it.”
He offered a faint smile, stirring the remains of the mash on his tray.
“But yeah… it’s a lot of pressure. Being humanity’s last hope.”
Locky smiled faintly and tapped Jack’s shoulder before returning to his own meal.
One by one, the team finished eating. They stood, stretching their tired muscles. Their smiles faded, replaced by neutral, guarded expressions. The fragile humanity of the lunchroom was slowly giving way to the cold discipline of the mission.
Zenny—fully recovered from the training session—looked at each of them in turn.
“Very well,” the General said. “To the locker rooms. Suit up. It’s time to say goodbye to the old Earth.”
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In the locker room, they donned their specialized space suits, each one tailored to its user’s combat style.
Locky’s suit was sleek and lightweight, made from a flexible stainless-fiber mesh that provided protection without restricting movement. The oxygen cylinder on his back was the only real weight he felt. Every suit featured a retractable helmet and an emergency oxygen supply stored in a side pouch.
Once ready, they marched toward their vessel.
It wasn’t a conventional rocket. Instead, it was a massive ion-thruster ship powered by a complex blend of chemical and biological fuels. Its wide, geometric frame was forged from a specialized alloy—futuristic, sharp, and imposing. At the top of the hull, a bold number was engraved:
7
Before boarding, Zenny stopped at the top of the ramp and turned to face them.
“We are the last,” he said, his deep voice echoing through the hangar. “We are the hope. The future of humanity rests on our shoulders alone.”
He paused, looking at each member of the team.
“Even with this fear… this dread… being called the elite means we are capable of seeing this through. Omega Team, this is our chance to show mankind that hope still exists.”
He struck his chest firmly.
“Goodbye, Earth.”
Then he turned and disappeared into the ship.
One by one, the others followed, their determination slowly returning.
But just before Locky could step onto the ramp, Alice grabbed his arm and turned him around.
She cupped his face and kissed him.
It was warm, desperate—a kiss filled with a thousand unspoken words.
When they finally pulled apart, she looked straight into his eyes.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you too,” Locky replied.
Alice stepped inside the ship, and Locky followed. But just before crossing the threshold, he stopped and looked back one last time.
He took a deep, shaky breath.
“Goodbye,” he murmured softly to the only home he had ever known.
Then he stepped inside.
A heavy hiss of steam and hydraulic pressure signaled the sealing of the airlock. The doors slammed shut.
Inside the massive dome, the ship slowly tilted upward, its nose pointing toward the infinite sky. The hangar ceiling began to retract, revealing the pale, dying atmosphere above.
Maintenance drones and human technicians scrambled back, clearing the area as the great machines of the SFS-N prepared for the final burn.
