Gabatrix: the Forgotten
Copyright© 2026 by CMed TheUniverseofCMed
Chapter 7: The Last Sunset
Science Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 7: The Last Sunset - Set after the events of Gabatrix: The Batrice Crisis, humanity launches an expedition to establish contact with the unknown alien race known as the Venermax. However, Doctor Theron, the lead scientist behind the mission, has vanished. It will be up to the Doctor and his friends to solve the mysteries laid forth as Theron tries not to perish in hell itself. Story contains: Sci-fi, Future, Drama, Survival, Action, Light Horror/Psychological Thriller, Human/Alien(s), M/F, Sex, Love, Interspecies
Caution: This Science Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Fiction Mystery Science Fiction Aliens Space
The familiar darkness again. Theron shifted as he rested against the sandy surface beneath him. His eyes opened as he saw nothing but the trailing blaze of fireflies around him.
The same dream again ... but with variations of a theme.
“Hello?” he called out.
He realized that he was in pants only, bare-chested. The sense of cold could be felt, but it wasn’t aggravating either. He climbed onto his knees and looked at everything around him.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Shhh...,” a somewhat feminine voice could be heard near the man. “It’ll be alright, my love...”
“My love?” he asked.
“Yes ... don’t give up ... whatever you do, don’t give up...”
“Huh? What? I don’t understand...”
Before Theron could say anything, a large, almost webbed hand reached out and grabbed the man’s left arm. All he could feel was the touch. It caused him to recoil in surprise. For an instant, the hand that felt him consisted of three very long fingers, much larger than any human hand. It was warm and very malleable. At the end of each tip was a soft claw where the fingertips were supposed to be. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before.
“Terry?” Gemma’s voice could be heard.
Instantly, Theron woke up. His eyes opened wide as the light of the room pierced his eyes. The hand he felt was from the young teenager who was touching his arm.
“Ack!” Theron remarked as he quickly stirred and recoiled in his bed.
Reality immediately set in. It had been another good year, reaching 2140 AD. The world continued to shift in its new age of post-apocalyptic proportions. There were more dead than living, and the living were finding themselves more confined to the domes. Anything else was simply bearing it out in some hope that things would get better.
However, Theron was more used to it than ever. If anything, both he and Gemma seemed to have handled it well, for the most part. It was the same room the two had been in since they moved in.
Gemma was standing by his bed. She was in her nightgown. Being near the age of 13, the early signs of her teenage years were setting in. She was taller as her puberty was kicking in. Her chest was poking out slightly as she was wearing a small bra under her clothing.
Theron lightly brushed aside the hand that felt his arm as he moved himself into a seating position in the bed. Gemma remained as she was. The hint of concern could be seen in her face.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Gemma said, her voice still carrying the sound of innocence while being slightly grainy in the process. “You were ... tossing and turning hard. I heard you whispering several times.”
“No,” Theron replied. “It’s alright.”
“Same dream again?”
“Dream? I don’t know if I would say that.”
He looked over at her bed. There was the hint of a red stain on her bedsheet. A part of him knew what was going on. He was reluctant to look down at her waist.
“You’re bleeding?” he asked her.
“I don’t really know what’s happening.”
“Yes, you do. You’re bleeding down there, aren’t you?”
She nodded her head, almost as if she seemed embarrassed to admit it.
“Did the school ever teach you anything?” he asked her. “About what’s happening?”
“ ... Yes ... my first period. I’m sorry,” she said.
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s natural. You’re just slowly becoming an adult.”
She looked at the bed. “It’s so strange, Terry. I know my mom would be here to help me, but I have you, instead.”
“Yeah ... I wish you had a woman to help you out through all this. I don’t have to worry about it, but it happens with all women, Gemma.”
“It’s more than that,” she said as she sat down in the bed next to him. “It’s so strange for me. I like being short ... you’re ... shrinking...”
Theron looked at himself. Another year of survival in the dome had done wonders for his body as well. He was stronger now. He carried more muscle tone in his arms and feet. Even with the hint of scars that perforated various portions of his body, including the hint of being poisoned, he was relatively healthy. Even his hair was still intact. The same could be said of Gemma, who still retained her blonde hair.
“I don’t know about that,” Theron happily commented. “I gained more mass. You’re just getting taller.”
She smiled. “Cells ... building on cells,” she commented. “Body drips blood...”
It was a weird comment, but Theron nodded. “Yep, part of the process of getting older ... and for me, part of the process of going out and doing everything for the colony.”
Gemma reached her arm and cradled the man’s arm. “I’m scared,” she said. “I want to do more, like you.”
“You are, Gemma. You’re getting educated, learn about life with what’s left of mankind.”
“I see so much suffering, though. I have hair, but others don’t. I have two arms and two legs, but others might not. They ... replace it with fake hair ... fake arms ... fake legs ... fake everything.”
“Augments are a man’s best friend.”
“Huh?”
“Artificial ligaments ... organs. We’ve been replacing them for a long time, even now more than ever.”
“Because people lose the real thing?”
“Yep.”
“I heard about using ... robots ... small robots to help us.”
Theron nodded. “Yep, nanites. I’ve heard about it too. We’ve been using it more and more, and now it might help us out even further. The nanites can be used to clean out the toxins from the orange muck.”
“Putting machines in our bodies?”
“Yeah ... the only problem is that they need a means to rapidly build them for use. Even augments are becoming difficult to make. But, as the dome cities keep building, so is the means to produce them.”
She looked at her arm. “I hope that doesn’t happen to me. But, the nanites ... we use them, right?”
“They can be used to cure against diseases, clean harmful ailments that get into our system. Medically speaking, they’re quite efficient.”
“Will it be enough to stop the Orange Muck?”
Theron thought about it, but he ultimately had no answer.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “But, it’s better than nothing.”
“Are the nanites bad?”
Theron shook his head. “Not really.”
“They don’t think for themselves?”
“They’re not meant to. They have basic programming. Advanced AIs have been banned for a while. Even the robots we use are basic. They’re not meant to think for themselves.”
“Because they might hurt us?”
“Yeah ... they might.” He lightly put her arm away from his. “Well ... we need to get ready for the day. You’re in your first period. We need to get you cleaned up and see if we can find pads for you ... assuming they have any.”
“Should I be afraid of having periods?” she asked.
He paused as he scratched the back of his neck. “Why are you asking me for?” He sighed. “I feel like saying no, but men don’t have periods. I can’t give you a whole amount of advice. We can head over to medical, but I’m pretty sure the nurses would say the same thing I’m saying now. It’s just a matter of not ... leaving a mess everywhere.”
Gemma nodded her head. Theron stood up and offered his hand for her to get up. She began to head over to a towel as she looked nervously at the man.
“Just ... do your best, Gemma,” Theron said. “Don’t be embarrassed about it.” He turned his head around to look away from her. His next step was to get a shirt to put on. Getting dressed for the day was going to be easier due to the schedule.
“At least today is Sunday,” he said, putting his shirt on. “Should be less busy than usual.”
“We’re heading to a ... party?” she asked.
“A festival ... First annual survivor festival. Didn’t think they would do it, but they decided to do it anyway.”
“We’re still going anyway, right?”
“Yes ... after we get done with more survivor training with Calum.”
“Ok...,” she began to cough a little bit.
Theron thought about it as he kept his eyes away from Gemma, knowing that she was changing her clothes.
The idea of the festival was something for the whole colony. Other dome settlements were also considering it. The muck rains would come and go, but never reach the level they initially struck two years ago. The last couple of months had been clean, with the air toxicity levels reaching near zero. Much as he remembered the prior year, people were venturing outside the buildings with little to no protective garments or suits. Even masks were left behind as well. A part of Theron hoped that this was a trend, that nature was trying to find a way to heal itself, rather than rain death upon everyone.
“Gemma, you ready?” he asked her, keeping his eyes on the corner of the room.
“Yes,” she said.
He turned to look at her. She was dressed in her familiar pink and black dress. She even spun around a little bit to let the dress flare in the air a bit.
The man gave an affirmative nod to her.
It had been well over a few hours. Theron stood not far from Gemma. The look of physical fatigue was evident in their eyes.
Being outside, both had a rather pleasant but melancholic view of the scenery, at least with how the day was proceeding. With the exception of basic civilian clothing, there was no need for protective gear, as the air was fair for everyone.
Outside the dome, the environment was mostly reduced to brown ash and dust. The former plains of the state had been eroded and destroyed by the muck rains. The gray clouds were intermittent as the polluted atmosphere remained. Even the distant hillsides seemed to be foreign, placed like they weren’t supposed to exist. The dome itself grew larger as construction continued, along with other structures being built next to it. However, much of it had been reduced in time. Even the construction materials being ferried in were drastically cut down.
Much of the population had left to attend the early beginning festivities of the great upcoming festival. Theron could see the array of individuals, tens of thousands, who were out playing in the great distance. A part of Theron was interested in being out there with the crowds, but much of his well-being seemed focused on Calum.
Calum, meanwhile, had done his part for the day, teaching Theron and a few others basic survival training. However, even that seemed disrupted due to the day’s events. He knew the hardened individual was not far, watching him and Gemma relaxing for a bit.
“It’s pretty,” Gemma remarked, looking at the illuminated cloud cover.
“The clouds?” Theron replied.
“Yes.”
“Even though we’ve never been able to see the blue-lit skies?”
“Yeah.”
“Why do you feel that way?”
“Because...,” she remarked. “I know it could be worse...”
“ ... I suppose you’re right.”
Theron could hear Gemma coughing again. It was mild, but present. The sound of a hard phlegm could be heard as the man looked at her.
“You ok?” he quietly asked her. “You were running pretty hard today.”
“Yeah...” She replied. “I’m ok.”
“Hey, Theron,” Calum called out to him, not far from him.
“Yeah?” he replied, turning to face him.
“Let’s have a talk...”
“Sure. Gemma, you mind if you wait here for a few minutes?”
“It’s ok,” she replied.
Theron turned to look back at Calum as the two stepped aside to put some distance between them and Gemma. The young teen remained focused, looking at the clouds.
The environment had not been kind to Calum. His hair was gone, and his left hand was replaced with a metal skeletonized augment. Even his voice carried a harsher tone. Theron knew what had happened to him, but Calum was resilient. Despite what had happened, he remained firm. The only thing that seemed to slow him down was an annoying cough.
“Both of you did ok,” Calum said.
“Yeah, lots of digging,” Theron replied. “Thanks for giving us another one of your instructive courses in survival.”
“You might need to take her to medical, though.”
“Huh?” he replied.
“There’s ... something going around in the domes ... I think I have it ... she might have it.”
“What is it? Is it contagious?”
“Don’t know,” Calum sighed. “No doubt there’s new shit getting around all the time ... our systems are weakened down. It doesn’t take much for something to...” He coughed a little bit away from Theron. “It might be nothing, but I already know I’m not going to that festival.”
Theron sighed as well. “I admit. I’m not a fan of the idea, either. We ended up finding that stockpile of beef in that scavenging run around two weeks ago, and now they want to go and eat it all up instead of preserving it.”
The man thought about it. Found in a meat-packing plant near the edge of Gillette was a warehouse operating on the last vestiges of its emergency power generator. After breaking the locks on the refrigerator units, a large surplus of beef and pork was secured. The mayor, appeased, decided to “reward” the occupants of the dome and even look at it as something of a trade to the other nearby dome settlements.
“They’re fools...,” Calum remarked. “Entire cities are in shambles. Our fresh water supply is dangerously low, and now they throw a party with our dwindling resources. Even the US government can’t keep funneling help to here anymore. I look at these survival classes and can tell that the people have less interest in them now than ever before. I don’t even know why I continue with them.”
“Couldn’t it be argued that we really don’t need the domes? Not to be the devil’s advocate on this, but the Orange Muck has been dissipating in some areas. We get seasons with clean water. People have even been abandoning the domes to reclaim their homes again. Some places around the world are a complete shithole, but not here.”
“‘Some areas?’” Calum almost chuckled with a wheeze in his breath. “Does this place look like we can settle in? Look at the land. Everything’s fucking dead. You can’t farm this land; only the recycling units of the domes can properly handle it, and even they are taxed to their limits. Meanwhile, our oceans are a pasty orange, and fish stocks are reduced to 1%.”
Theron couldn’t argue with all the facts presented. Billions were dead, and the cities were reduced to husks. This didn’t even include the casualties; the population in the dome was indulging itself, and even Theron could see it. The man could only look at the distant festivities that were gathering.
“We’re expected to have another wave of fresh water rains, though,” Theron commented.
“That muck is getting into the deep water reservoirs,” Calum remarked. “It’s in Earth’s roots. The people just don’t see it anymore. They keep thinking they get a few months off and start to relax before the process starts over again. They all start to relax ... become too comfortable with their own fates ... keep thinking that their technology is going to save them when it won’t.”
The man thought about it. “What about Waterville, DC? I keep hearing more and more about it ... that some of the people from the domes are trying to make way to it there. Even Elicio and his wife moved there, along with half of the salvaging teams we had.”
“Our new capital?...,” Calum coughed. “Strength in numbers ... Lesser fools instead of the ones that remain. Let them run to there to seek refuge ... the population declines here ... more resources for us to live a little longer.”
Theron was not as pragmatic as Calum, but still agreed with him strongly on some issues. There was something deeply eerie about the idea of going to this festival, as if its purpose was different from what was intended.
“The mayor is trying to appease his voters, ain’t he?” Theron commented.
“You think?” Calum mocked him. “People are leaving ... people are dying ... people think everything is going to get better ... I can at least say that the muckmen are gone. People see them less and less as they starve out.”
“Another reason for the people to leave, too. I don’t know ... I’m not leaving this dome. The domes are the only thing preserving us ... a fallback idea if things return to absolute shit again ... even if that fails as well...”
There was something frightening to Theron with the idea of having vast settlements in the middle of nowhere. The dome settlements were strategically placed apart in various areas throughout the US, almost as if they were giant experiments in survival. Two years of this, while the vast cities imploded on themselves. Meanwhile, the eastern US cities started banding together. The last survivors all headed to Waterville to create some sort of survivalist utopia. The writing was on the wall. The domes of the western North American continent were slowly losing their importance. The US government, like the world’s other surviving governments, was dwindling in its finances as economies slowly collapsed. The grim reality holding out was the fact that there were fewer mouths to feed as the countless others lay dead throughout the cities and the countryside.
In the end, there was no turning back...
“And it’s why I keep doing this,” Calum commented. “Today ... we’ll finish up with more firearms training ... make sure that ‘shotgun butter finger’ of a teen of yours can actually handle guns for her size...”
“Heh...,” Theron commented. “I told you that story once, and you never drop it.”
“I don’t have to. She keeps doing it ... but, we’ll find the right gun for her to handle, though...”
“ ... Thanks ... But I think we’re going to call it a day with the course training. Gemma needs to be tended to.”
Calum was cold, but gave a solemn nod. “ ... Good idea...”
It had been a couple of hours. Theron was in the local infirmary. The dome’s medical station was vast, always expanding while constantly overwhelmed.
It consisted of several rooms, sometimes with lines of people either sitting and waiting to be treated or standing to get help. It operated like any other hospital, albeit in a busy intersection of the dome’s vast central courtyard. Regardless, it did consist of the early 22nd-century medical equipment that humanity’s technology could provide.
Theron stood not far from a basic replication unit, capable of creating the basic augments needed for the population. Everything from a rotted-out eye, a lung, a kidney, could be replaced, assuming the body wasn’t too sickly or altered beyond recognition. A medical lab was also in a nearby room, constantly trying to provide research to counter the dangerous effects of the orange muck’s contamination.
Thankfully, the festival did have one positive outcome. The medical infirmary was less busy than it was. Medical staff were still on duty as the people had vacated outside. There was far less of a line, and it was much quicker to get the help needed.
Both Theron and Gemma were separated. A nurse was already tending to the young teenager as Theron was led to another room. A basic robot opened the door and pointed its metallic hand to the nearby seats of the small room. It was a very well-lit white room with a desk and a few chairs. A basic computer resided on the desk, and little else.
Theron had a seat in this room. He waited patiently for less than a minute before the door opened again. He turned to see who had entered.
It was a doctor named Hartwin, a man Theron had met before. The pale-faced individual carried an artificial eye with a carefully crafted red optical lens that recreated a human eye. His large beard and shaggy hair, along with his white medical robe, were his well-renowned traits.
“Theron, it’s good to see you,” Hartwin said in his light but coarse voice.
“Likewise,” Theron replied, shaking the man’s hand, and wondering what was going on. The doctor went and had a seat behind his desk. “Ummm...,” Theron said, pointing at the door. “I came here just to bring Gemma in for a checkup.”
“I know, Theron,” Hartman replied. “I know...”
“So ... is Gemma going to be alright?”
“Yes, she has the early symptoms of what we’re calling Maldred Disease. Some are calling it ‘Muck Throat.’ It’s an infection that broke out in the neighboring dome a week ago and spread to here.”
“Crap ... how bad is it?”
The doctor shook his head. “It depends. We do know it’s contagious, but the results aren’t life-threatening. Some patients exhibit mild coughing, congestion, and feeling weak. Others are exhibiting more flu-like symptoms. We’ve been able to combat it with simple medication so far, which we’re giving to you and Gemma.”
“To me? I don’t feel sick.”
Hartmin shook his head. “Right now, you don’t, but we’re not taking any chances. I’m more afraid that this virus can mutate. The muck rains have killed off large portions of the diseases, but it’s also creating a few new ones in its wake. As you’re probably aware, with clean water becoming a dilemma for this dome, our body’s immune system is weakened ... but, you’ll both be fine.”
“At least she’ll be alright. Mine has been caught early in advance. What about the festival? Won’t the infection spread?”
“We already tried to warn the mayor to cancel it, but he’s adamant ... ignoring us. He doesn’t consider it a threat since the symptoms are usually light. Unfortunately, we’ll be looking into isolating both of you from the mainstream public. I’m sorry if you had plans to attend it.”
“Ehh ... I know Gemma was looking forward to it, but I’m not too concerned about it. Hoping to have some of that beef though before everyone eats it all up.”
“Likewise. I put in the order myself, but I know my medical teams will get ignored.”
“Gemma’s period has just started. Is there anything I need to know about for her when it comes to the Orange Muck?”
“Yes. Her having a period is a good thing for her case. However, there have been others who aren’t so lucky. Some women’s reproductive abilities have taken permanent damage due to the muck toxins that get into their system. A few of them will never be able to conceive again.”
“But, Gemma ... will she?”
The doctor nodded. “Assuming she can continue to get more clean water, clean food, I would say ... likely. We, like the other populations, have been putting resources into augmentations that can enhance conception ... possibly a more easily mass-produced enhancement unit to help out in gestation. Even if we might not have it now, she’ll have it in her lifetime.”
Theron thought about it and seemed confused. “Wait...,” he said. “Was it necessary to separate me and Gemma? A lot of this could have been discussed with her present. Some of this is just natural discussions to have with a girl her age.”
“Actually, there was a reason why we had you separated. It wasn’t dealing with her. It was dealing with you.”
“Huh?”
“Since you came here, there’s a separate issue to discuss.”
“And ... What is it?”
The doctor tapped a few buttons on his computer keyboard. A projected image appeared to be visible to Theron. It was a deep, enhanced X-ray image of his head, showing a series of multi-layers that spanned into a 3D image.
“Do you remember that ACT scan you had a week ago?” Hartmin asked him.
“Yeah,” Theron replied, feeling the minor sense of dread in his stomach. “I was ... complaining about headaches and felt like having the same dream over and over again. You recommended I get a quick scan.”
“Well...,” the doctor tapped a few buttons as the scan highlighted a portion of his brain. “Theron, I regret to inform you that you have the early stages of ‘Nihil’s Syndrome... ‘“
It took a few seconds before the very thought of it sank into Theron’s soul. He took a deep breath before shaking his head. His adrenaline picked up, his heart skipping a beat.
“No...,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said.
“Muck madness...,” Theron didn’t need to look at the scan. He put his hands to his forehead. The doctor seemed to pause for some time as Theron was having to settle himself down.
“How?” he asked the doctor.
“The same question every person asks,” Hartmin explained. “Exposure to the muck’s toxins ... aerial and skin contact ... ingesting even small quantities of it ... continuous exposure over and over again.”
“No...,” Theron stood up and looked away from the doctor, staring into the corner of the room. “I did everything I could to limit exposure to the Orange Muck. People have been exposed to it far more than me. Hell, they lost their hair before the madness ever took them.”
“It’s in the water we drink, Theron. Even the food has it. It’s everywhere, whether we want to believe it or not. No matter what, we all carry its contamination.”
Theron put his hand to his face as the sorrow remained. “I don’t want to become like a muckman ... I fought them ... you’re telling me that I’m going to become one of them?”
“It varies from person to person ... Theron, I wouldn’t stress too much about it.”
“Stress about it?” he turned to look at the doctor. “Doc, you might as well have handed me my death sentence. If word spreads, they’re going to think I’m mad ... going mad. Hell, exile at the very least, or me pleading with them to put a bullet into me before insanity takes full hold.”
The doctor stood up and walked around the desk. “I have to say this to a lot of people. You’re not the only one who has it.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better somehow?”
“No ... it’s life. What matters is that you know you have it ... and that it isn’t over yet.”
“What do you mean? There’s no cure for it, Doctor.”
Hartman shook his head. “If it was over two weeks ago, I would agree, but there’s an early treatment breakthrough for it. The news is over a week old, but Waterville DC has reported the first experimental signs of proper restoration of the human brain attributed to the muck’s damage.”
“There ... so there is a way to resolve it?”
“Yes, but it’s only at the early stages. They still need another 4 months to a year before they can properly implement it on a mass scale.”
Theron sighed, showing a mild hint of relief, while still carrying the anxiety that followed with it.
“How long before I ... before I start to go crazy?” he asked Hartman.
“It varies,” Hartman explained. “Every person is different. Some may never have it. Some have it, takes years, might even be ten years before they succumb to the syndrome. Others, it happens in less than a month, much like what we all saw in the early days of the muck breakout. Sometimes it depends on the exposure. The more it is, the quicker it hastens it. Sometimes it depends on the resiliency of the human brain. Depending on how quickly it spreads, I’d say by estimate, you have less than a few months on average before ... well...”
A race against time ... a ticking time bomb ready to go off. Theron knew that his days were running out. He could be driven mad, a short life to live, as humanity would barely have the means to incarcerate the countless insane and mentally deranged individuals out there. He would just be another victim of the devastating muck that wiped out billions.
“What am I going to tell Gemma?” Theron commented.
“That part I can’t help you with,” Hartman said. “But, I can promise you this. The moment that Waterville, DC sends out the proper treatment method, the sooner you and the others who have it will be treated. It’ll be extensive, I know ... surgery into the deepest regions of the brain, but you’ll be on that list...”
Theron had no choice but to accept reality.
“Ok...,” he said. “So ... what is expected to happen before I start becoming a muckman?”
“The headaches will remain,” the doctor explained. “You might end up more prone to anger. Schizophrenia, hallucinations, irritability, some exhibit twitching or uncontrollable shaking, uncontrollable motor functions. Again, it depends on person to person and how they all react. It may accelerate rapidly, or it might accelerate and slow down drastically over time. There is no perfect answer.”
“ ... Ok...”
Hartman put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Don’t give up. I tell it to every person who has it. I know a few methods that might slow down the degradation. For now, you may need to consider taking it easy when it comes to work ... find ways to keep your mind busy. Worrying about it won’t solve it.”
“In other words ... pray.”
The doctor nodded. Theron didn’t want to hear from it anymore. He had to inform the others ... family, loved ones, whoever needed to be known. It wasn’t exactly the news he ever wanted to hear. The question was how he was going to let everyone know...
“There you are,” a woman’s voice could be heard.
Theron had just finished his meal. The large courtyard of the dome was emptier than usual, with most of the inhabitants outside. The man sat at a familiar table, small enough to have three people at most.