Chapter 1: March 1st, 2351 AD

In the fringes of dark, cold space lies Luna. The Earth-moon of the 24th century has become the bastion checkpoint for ship construction. What served as the stepping stone for humanity’s space programs has become a hub of history. It is little more than a gray, barren sphere of rock where many humans still manufacture ships and keep their facilities from wearing out.

The year is 2351. The famed Gabatrix experiment of the 23rd century has long been over. The human race has found new worlds to colonize, new worlds to settle upon, and old worlds to forget. Luna is an aged stronghold for Earth. Even now, despite the blackened background with only a hint of twinkling stars in the vast distance, lies a series of surface lights that can be seen across the moon’s surface. Hundreds of years ago, Luna was a battleground for superpowers, fighting for precious resources that could only be found there.

In orbit, there is a smattering of spaceships, many of which are indecipherable from the great distance seen. A single low connected gate ring, entrenched dockyards, and domed cities show human activity. A freighter is on the verge of completion, ready to be launched into orbit. Only the dots of various artificial lights can be seen as the boxy contraption takes off.

However, as we continue to observe Luna, the distant globe of Earth can be seen in the distance as the rays of Sol come into view. We zoom towards the world that lies before us, leaving behind the solitary moon.

As Earth comes closer to our view, we can already see the few lights that dot its unlit surface. Most of humanity has long left. Space garbage, broken satellites, and debris threaten the few wayward vessels that travel to it. As we encircle around and reach the lit surface of the planet, we are left with the sight of a dark gray atmosphere. Heavy pollution and sulfur choke much of the surface from being seen. However, the hints of the orange-colored oceans remain.

On the lit side of Earth, there is more activity that can be noted. Green-colored warships and vessels lie in orbit. The Itreans have long arrived. The former dinosaurs have reclaimed their home of birthright. Like a fable that has come true, their pilgrims make a concerted effort to restore the planet. Even now, old dreadnoughts lie above the atmosphere, deploying probes and seeding the atmosphere in an effort to clean up the world that much of humanity has left behind.

In the last couple of years, Earth has transformed. Even its very name is being questioned. For the Itreans, Earth was always Itrea, the sacred home of their origins.

There is a slight haze and clearing in the atmosphere. The former continent of North America comes into view. The sad reality is that Canada, the United States, and Mexico’s former glory days are long gone. Rising ocean levels have all but swallowed up Florida, consuming much of the southeastern states. The great coastal cities of the 21st century lie submerged, choked under the orange muck. It is as if a great hand came in and ripped the landscape asunder.

The Orange Muck proved to be the most devastating of disasters. Long released from the melted frozen Antarctic, the deadly bacteria began to consume the pollutants that resided in the oceans. It became a feeding frenzy for them. Far deadlier than Red Tide, the bacteria released a toxin that found itself everywhere. In the rain, in the sand, in the water table, Orange Muck was the death kneel for the human race. The poorest of nations took the most horrific of casualties, for even if a small amount of tainted water were ingested, it would kill a human being. It was as if nature had flipped the switch and wiped out as much of the life on Earth. Very little was spared. The forests and plants died, and 90% of wildlife was snuffed out. Year by year, Earth was reduced to a barren landscape.

Of course, we already know much of the history. The Great Gabatrix experiment would usher in a new beginning for the human race. New homes were found, paradises that put Earth to shame. The regrettable fact was that Gabatrix had both saved the human race and seemingly doomed Earth simultaneously. Once new worlds were discovered to settle upon, most of the efforts to restore the planet’s environment were discarded. More resources were implemented elsewhere, and day by day, more of the Earthlings bid farewell to Earth.

However, not all is lost for the planet. We begin to zoom in on the atmosphere. We close our eyes as we zip through the layers of thick toxic gases and ashen dust. It does not take long before we move past it and close in high above the surface.

The Western side of the former United States comes into view. Despite the higher sea levels, much of the surface remains above the waterline. The former states of Nevada, California, New Arizona, and Texas can be seen, but our attention closes in on one of the great states.

Despite all the hardship, the great Gabatrix experiment, and Earth’s near abandonment, the humans who have stayed have only gotten stronger. Progress is on their side. Improvements to medical technology and purifications have led to a small renaissance on the planet. Where many humans have died or left the world long ago, the few who have stayed have developed great dome cities and held their ground. Space is plenty here if one is willing to expand into the barren death fields. Each human that leaves only grants more viable living space for the others to live.

Earth may be forgotten by some, but for others, it’s opportunity. Even if entrapped by the dome cities and harsh environment beyond, humanity has plenty to scavenge. Old foundries, remnants of industry, technology, and history remain abound. For the Earthers, anything and everything is at their disposal. Some have called the mountains their home, safe and entrenched. Others have used the former cities of the past as bastions, while others have claimed the great desert wastes as safe havens.

It is here that we focus on our destination. The former city of Las Vegas closes in. Known as the Las Vegas Dome, a small population of humans has called this place home. The great deserts of North America serve as a light defense against the deadly Orange Muck rains. Even if the weather had been forever changed, it would give some hope to the people who live here.

The former Sin City has not changed much in the last hundred years. While the human population continued to explode in the 21st century, the Orange Muck obviously played its role in reducing the city to a near ghost town. Las Vegas is like any typical Earth city during the day. As we reach the surface, we are greeted with dust-laden roads. Ancient cars, lopsided hotels, dilapidated buildings, and erosion have taken their toll. The few pools are either dried out or caked with orange mud.

However, amongst the streets reside the hints of human activity. A pair of individuals patrol the street. They are almost unrecognizable. Heavy gear covers their bodies. Everything from facial masks, helmeted visors, multiple layers of resorbent clothing, heavy boots, thick gloves, backpacks, guns, and tools reside on them. Not far away is a lit abandoned hotel building powered by a small energy core, a scavenger checkpoint to serve as a wayward refuge for some of the Earthers.

We continue to venture northeast of former Las Vegas. It is here that more of the great dome of Las Vegas comes into view. Located on the ruins of Nellis Air Force Base, the land is flat, away from many of the ancient tall buildings. The concept is not uncommon. With much of the military equipment abandoned, the settlers here are greeted with a boon of gear to use. Construction materials are abound and ready to be stripped. It was unknown when exactly the Las Vegas Dome City was established, but it consists of almost 20,000 souls. It is an enclosed, heavy-laden circular wall. There are signs that the place has expanded enough in size that another smaller dome connects to it. The place is little more than a safe haven serving as a fortress against the elements while connecting to the derelict Las Vegas Boulevard. A series of railgun and planetary defense weapons lie far from it, a small makeshift defense from whatever may be out there.

As we encircle around the smaller secondary dome, we are greeted with more structures. Connected to the dome by habitable tunnels is one of the many military garages that have been rebuilt and remodeled into a central unit.

The weather is currently calm. A hint of wind and dust can be seen in the decaying concrete. From the angle of the door, a shadow emerges. It looks like a large four-legged creature from the sun at first, struggling to pierce the darkened sky, but the silhouette appears to be somebody atop it. The sounds of clopping hooves can be heard.

The figure comes to a stop as the door begins to slide open. The four-legged animal shows fur. The stillness provokes it to lift its tail, where it neatly defecates, waiting for the door to close.

“Ugh..., Autumn,” the man said, riding atop the horse. “You had it all the time, and now you finally do it here?”

The voice is harsh, somewhat muffled under his filter mask. Upon the fully opened door, the figure riding the horse enters the garage. The human being appears to be a scavenger of some sort. His clothing carries a similar form of protection. Every part of his skin is covered in black, brown, and gray colored leather. His back carries a holstered lever action rifle heavily modified with a tactical scope.

The orange and white horse carries some form of protection on itself. In addition to the saddle and countless bags of gear, the horse’s head has a makeshift breathing mask that neatly wraps around the snout and lower neck. Upon entering the garage, the door closes behind the unknown figure.

There is a pause as the man guides his animal to a nearby scanning unit. The vast interior of the garage is filled with countless relics. Most of the walls and side tables consist of various tools and supplies. A huge covered vehicle, most likely a truck rig of some sort, takes up 1/2 of the space. Only the multitude of tires can be seen below the blanket.

A lit display activates on one of the walls as the unknown man looks upon it through his enclosed visor. The breathing intensifies under his mask. A blue scanning beam goes across the animal and figure. Finally, it stops and gives a result.

“Toxicity level Class 1 detected. Please wash immediately.”

The man moves his animal over to a nearby decontamination chamber. It’s large enough to easily house them both. Upon stepping into the unit, the man departs from his horse. His dusty boots and burrs smack the hard tiles producing a thud in the interior building.

The person uses his gloved hand to grip the animal’s harness and guides the horse further into the apparatus.

“Alright, Autumn,” the man said in his deep raspy-like voice. “Don’t panic again, you hear?”

He lifted his hand towards the nearby wall panel and pressed a button. Suddenly, a clear, hardened plastic door closed over the unit. A gush of white air and vapor slammed into the unit, hitting the two in the process.

The horse neighed in light panic. The man quickly put his hand on the horse’s head and said a few words while the animal threatened to rise on its hind legs.

“Whoa, Autumn, whoa...,” the man said. “It’s almost over.”

The gushing air was like a powerful blow dryer. The animal’s fur was the greatest challenge of them all. The tiny dust-like particles could be easily carried around in the interior. No trace of the dangerous toxins could be carried, for a single cut on the leg could warrant contamination of the orange muck. The decontamination unit had to perform its job. A tiny amount of vapor covered the man’s sides as he remained steady, patting his horse to calm it.

“Almost done...,” he said. The moving air was like a tornado. A small amount of decontamination fluid covered their sides, which was also dried and blown off.

The unit shut down. A secondary scanning beam activated in the unit and went over the two. It began to focus on the saddle bags.

“Yeah, I know,” the man said. He took off the bags and placed them down on the floor, opening them. Then, he looked over at the unit’s door as it opened. Class 1 decontamination was mostly cleared up, except for belongings that needed a second cleaning.

“Come on, Autumn,” the man told his horse. He moved the animal and walked out to the interior of the garage.

The clopping of hooves could be heard as decontamination started to clean the loot the man had acquired. He used one hand to reach behind his neck and tap a button. The locking mechanism for his mask popped off, and he removed it, exposing his face. Then, he dropped it onto the hard concrete floor before venturing further.

The individual had a pale complexion. He was possibly in his forties, although there were signs of wear and tear across his brow. He had a well-trimmed red beard, and his crude-cut blond hair had hints of gray. A scar lay on his left cheek, and the look of fatigue was clearly present.

The garage contained many things. As he passed by the table, a red, white, and blue flag with 13 stars in the top corner was adorned over a wall. Memorabilia depicting the USA’s past was everywhere. Some photos of Las Vegas were preserved in its glory days. Others consisted of various firearms from the early 20th century to the late 21st century. A bookshelf consisted of multiple books and magazines, some placed in protective sleeves to preserve them. It was a proud mixture of ancient technology and the more current tools of the modern-day period.

Past a set of office privacy walls was a large stable in the far corner of the room. It didn’t seem to be an entirely comfortable spot, but it was the only place for the man to safely contain the animal. The faint smell of manure hovered over the spot. As the man reached the metal fence, he tapped a button on the gate and opened it. He brought the horse into it, removed the gas mask over the snout, and left the animal inside. The hardened floor still carried some artificial hay, a water trough, and a robotic unit for cleaning manure.

“You did good out there,” he said to his horse before removing the saddle and placing it to the side. He patted his horse and left it, closing the gate, stepping away, and back into the open exterior. His eyes almost went to the office privacy walls in the garage, where a single twin bed resided. The man walked over to the nearby table, removed his rifle, and slapped it down upon it. He started to take off his heavy layers of clothing when he saw something else.

Two small rodent-like animals came running from the open tube leading into the secondary dome structure. The four-legged animals were an unusual sight. They had mostly red fur, with white ears, black underbelly, and black legs. They were not particularly big, being a little more than half a yard in length. However, the two mammals were quick to run up to the head mask, where they stood up and pressed their paws against it.

“No ... nope...,” the man said, walking over and picking up his mask. “Go play with your toys...”

The animals almost responded to what the man said. They scurried off and went towards a small bin containing small squeaky toys. The man paid no further attention to them as he slapped the mask onto the table while peeling off a layer of clothing. He had just knocked off the two boots when he heard the sound of another person entering the garage.

“There’s my rancher,” an older gentleman greeted him. His voice was grave and heavy. Even in his late 80s, the senior citizen carried nothing but wrinkles across his bald, pale face. The dark blue and brown tunic and pants gave a hint of elitism in his simplistic clothing. Yet, a single tooth could be seen across his gums when he tried to give a hopeful smile. The gentleman had a wooden cane that he used to keep himself steady.