After the night of the Blue Death, America's population had dwindled drastically, with barely up to fifty million people left. Among those, only about twenty million survived in the category of civil workers and nobles, while the rest were either slaves or soldiers.
With such a small population, all that was needed was one state—lavishly upgraded to suit the insatiable taste of the ruling class—while the rest of the country remained a pile of rubble and wreckage.
Dangerous beasts occasionally roamed the streets where civilians lived, and the rare interference of the military was just enough to ensure the population didn't reduce drastically.
By the way, slaves were invaluable assets in this time of abundance.
While New York was remade into the new America for the wealthy, the poor living outside the state were given arm bracelets embedded with trackers to make sure they never ventured out of their designated zones.
Once a child reached the age of ten, they were forced to wear the arm bracelets. And since humans had grown stronger due to the mutation, these kids were considered strong enough to engage in menial tasks.
While men were thrown into the mines where the blue comets had fallen—where the sounds of their rusty pickaxes smashing against the hard surfaces of crystallized Aetherium echoed all day—women and children pushed wheelbarrows filled with shards from the mines and also engaged in other minor tasks, like cooking low-quality porridge.
At the end of each work shift, a crusty old loaf of bread with some porridge was provided. And at the end of the day, more food was handed out for workers to take back home to their families. The food rations were barely enough to feed a family of four. Because of this, new couples were reluctant to have children, hoping to increase their share of food.
I was from a family of five.
My father worked in the mines, while my mother was among those tasked with cooking. I had a little sister, Lia, just two years younger. Each day, we would stay in the dilapidated building we called home, waiting for our parents to return with some food.
Due to how little we had to eat—and the quality of those meals—we were both emaciated, our bones visible for all to see. Our skin was pale, and our faces were covered with long, unkempt black hair.
It's crazy that in this world of abundance, we had no choice but to dress in sackcloth and walk around barefoot.
How could we hope for better clothes when something as common as water was a rare commodity?
Two bottles per household per day were all we were given, leaving many thirsty. But what could we do?
We could only endure and patiently wait for more rations the next day.
But none of that mattered to us. Regardless of the situation, Lia and I were happy, and our parents never failed to shower us with love and kindness.
We didn't have much, but we had each other. And that was all I could ask for.
Even after the day's hard work, Dad and Mum always made time to chat and laugh with us. They told us stories of the good times on Earth before the Blue Death. These stories were entertaining to us kids and were usually enough to distract us from the hunger and thirst we felt.
However, as time went on, I noticed something strange about Dad. While we all suffered from malnutrition, he was thinner and paler than usual.
One morning, just before he left for work, I noticed rough blue patches on his skin. He kept scratching the itchy spot and looked very uncomfortable.
But what did I know?
I thought nothing of it and played with Lia all day. Dad and Mum always returned in the evening, but this time it was already late—and they hadn't come back.
Lia kept crying, saying she was hungry. I tried consoling her to the best of my abilities. That night, Dad's friend came with the daily ration—and a broken expression on his face.
He told me Dad had contracted the deadly virus known as Aetherscourge, caused by excessive, unprotected exposure to Aetherium.
It was a deadly disease that could spread. So when the soldiers found out, they dragged him away from the others and executed him. Alarmed by the commotion, Mum ran to him. She pleaded for his life and refused to let go, so they shot them both—and burned their corpses to ashes.
The man's voice was cold and calm. While he seemed saddened by the tragedy, the way he spoke made me believe that such events were common. It felt like an inevitable fate for all who worked in the mines.
With the food he brought came a slave bracelet, which he handed to me. I was only nine at the time, but we needed the food. And the only way we could survive was if I started working.
The man left us there—shocked and confused by what we had just heard.
While Lia cried loudly, I just sat there, silent and tired. I was young, but I'd already witnessed too many tragedies. And Dad always told me never to cry as a man.
"If you cry now, who will console your sister?" he always said.
A tear rolled down my left cheek as I sat like a statue in one corner, watching Lia cry. I wanted to console her so badly, but I didn't know how—especially since I was on the edge of losing my composure.
With no other choice, I just watched her tire herself out. Then she ate a little, crawled into my lap, and fell asleep.
Only after she was fast asleep did the tears start pouring out.
"Dad… Mum… I miss you already…" I cried.