A soft breeze stirred the sunflower fields, making the hem of Qin's magnolia-white dress flutter gently. She lifted her gaze to the sky, but the doomsday comet was still nowhere to be seen.
Far above, a rocket trail marked the path of the last humans, already departed from Earth. Yet Qin, along with the other 100,000 souls, had chosen to remain—waiting with the planet as it drifted toward its final days.
"When I was 8, I used to think that living on Mars would be the most extraordinary thing in the world. The brightest minds, humanity's most advanced technologies—everything I'd ever dreamed of would be there. Becoming a respectable scientist on the Martian colony was my childhood fantasy, the one thing I held onto."
Still unwilling to bow her head, Qin spoke softly to the boy sitting beside her, his glasses catching the faint sunlight. The delicate fragrance of jasmine lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of sunflowers around them. It was a small, unexpected gift in the vastness of the field—those few jasmine flowers, quietly blooming amidst the golden sea of petals.
"You never told me that before," the boy said, adjusting his glasses with a quiet uncertainty.
"But everything changed the first time I went to the space station. It was on my 12th birthday. Before that, I'd imagined a thousand times in my mind what the universe would look like—how beautiful, how spectacular it must be. But it wasn't. All I saw was the vast emptiness, with only the giant planet beneath me remaining real. Everything else was just darkness."
Ten years ago, scientists first detected the comet that would eventually bring an end to Earth. But thanks to the rapid advancements in rocket reusability, the World Government was given enough time to evacuate humanity to Mars, ensuring that the civilization could be preserved.
According to the calculations, when Mars reached its perigee—its closest point to Earth every 26 months—the World Government would need to launch their colossal spacecrafts at least 20,000 times a day, each flight carrying 1,250 passengers. After a brief refueling period at enormous space stations in orbit, the fleet, heavy with the hopes of humanity, would set off for Mars. In the end, it was indeed possible to relocate all 8 billion people from this dying planet to the red one.
This would later come to be known as "The Exodus Plan."
"I think it's time for supper. Want to join me at the restaurant?" The boy glanced at his watch and, with a quiet invitation, asked.
"I'd love to, Han." Qin nodded, her smile warm.
In the small town where Qin and Han lived, there was only one restaurant. After the Exodus, rather than crowding into the cities, most of the remaining people had chosen to settle in these small towns. The towering buildings, once symbols of progress, had become unsafe without regular maintenance.
Qin and Han walked into the restaurant.
It was 6 o'clock, and the restaurant was already alive with the hum of people from all corners of the town. Despite having visited this place over a thousand times, Han was still struck by its exotic charm. The light-brown wallpaper, adorned with delicate iris flower patterns, seemed to glow in the soft candlelight that flickered on the mahogany counter. This was also where he had first met Qin—seven years ago, at a welcome dinner organized by the local space launch center. Their parents, both employees there, had introduced their families that evening.
Han studied Qin for a moment, but nothing about her suggested she was the mischievous girl he remembered. With her enigmatic smile, she seemed more like a poised young lady than a 17-year-old high school student.
"One family meal, please," Qin said to the waiter as she sat down.
"I'll have the same," Han added, following her lead.
The family meal was simple yet delicious—scrambled eggs with beef and rice, a dish that had no hint of Western influence, just pure Chinese flavor.
"I haven't heard from you since the accident. What was it like?" Han asked, his gaze fixed on the bright eyes across from him.
"Nothing out of the ordinary, I suppose," Qin replied casually.
Han raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding, right? You're nothing like the person I knew seven years ago."
Qin smiled back, but didn't respond. After a moment of staring out the window, she turned back to him and asked softly, "Why did you choose to stay?"
Caught off guard by the question, Han hesitated. "Well, I don't like Mars. I'd rather stay on a planet I know, even if it's dying, than live out my life on a barren world."
"Even when this planet's days are numbered?" Qin pressed, her voice calm. "What do you think about death?"
"I think I'll face it when the time comes," Han said, trying to sound confident.
Qin's gaze sharpened. "You're afraid. Your voice gave you away."
Han reluctantly admitted that Qin was right. The truth behind his decision wasn't so simple. Very few people could face death with calm acceptance, and Han clearly wasn't one of them. He longed to leave this planet. He wanted to survive. He could endure the harsh conditions of the Martian Colony...
If only the accident had never happened.
Accidents were a common risk in the grueling process of developing and testing the massive rockets. In 2073, three years after the comet had been detected, disaster struck at a local space launch center. A static firing test went catastrophically wrong, resulting in a massive explosion that claimed the lives of many workers and engineers—including the lives of both Qin's and Han's parents.
That nightmarish afternoon, Han could see nothing amidst the wreckage that might have identified his parents, except for his father's brain-computer. After entering the password, the knowledge it contained completely altered Han's perspective on the Exodus Plan.
"The super-heavy rocket and spacecraft are indeed capable of sending people to Mars, that's true. But they lied to the public about the transfer window. They claimed it was 90 days every 26 months. In reality, it was only 30 days. The world's elites had long since reserved the best flights for themselves and their families. The survival rate for those who booked other flights was less than 10%. Most people only got a fleeting glimpse of hope, doomed to endure a much longer, more perilous journey than the upper class."
Han paused a moment after he stopped recalling. "I don't want to die pointlessly and alone in this cold, empty universe. If I have to choose how I die, I want it to be in the embrace of blooming spring flowers under a bright, azure sky." He leaned forward, his gaze fixed on her. "Now it's your turn. Why do you choose to stay?" Han studied her face, but found no answer in her expression.
"You're not the only one who knows the truth about the Exodus Plan. My parents were rocket engineers, just like yours," Qin finally replied.
She finished her meal quickly, then stood to leave, offering Han a brief farewell. The stars had already begun to crowd the sky, serene and mysterious.