The date is 16.3.2066
Commander Incarceratus made his way to the assigned post.
The morning streets were already alive. People walking, hurrying and vehicles humming. As he passed down a narrow alley, a beggar reached both his hands out.
"You got any change to spare, young man?"
The Commander slowed down, pulled out his wallet, and put a few coins into the man's open hand.
"Thank you, young man…"
The Commander nodded and offered a small smile before continuing on his way.
***
He swiped his keycard through the sensor. The doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the command room.
"Good morning, Commander~!"
The gentle and warm voice belonged to his co-worker, Commander Jeanne Ancora. She hurried over, her sparkling blue eyes lighting up as she beamed at him.
"How did you sleep? I slept really well today!"
"That's good news for all of us," the Commander responds. "We know how you are without your beauty sleep."
Soft laughter came from staff members, with some even affirming the statement.
Jeanne placed a hand on her hip and pouts. "Hey, I just don't function on little sleep ok? And without my beauty rest, I wouldn't be this charming, right?"
She steps back, rejoining the staff members.
The doors open again.
A tall woman enters, slender and poised, her black hair falling over her shoulders. Golden eyes sweep across the room.
"Good morning, everyone. How is everyone doing?"
Warm greetings followed as she exchanged brief words with the staff and Jeanne before stopping in front of the Commander.
"Good morning, handsome," she said, giving him a playful wink. "You look like you could use a coffee."
"Morning, Stella," he replied somewhat friendly. "I've already had two… I think."
Commander Stella Astrum was as respected as she was confident. Where Jeanne's strength came from compassion and tactical medical experience, Stella's influence stemmed from logistics and political maneuvering.
The Commander, compared to these two, was still new. He had only one year in command while both women already had three.
"I'll be in my office," he said. "I need to look over some.. maybe a lot… of reports."
He left the command room and entered his office: a spotless white space, dominated by a desk buried under documents.
"Alright, let's see what kind of disasters you've got for me today," he muttered.
***
The world was in chaos.
The political left and the political right had grown increasingly radical. Poverty had reached record highs and crime followed close behind. The police struggled to maintain order and low wages made corruption easy, almost inevitable.
Media outlets fueled division, strife and war, keeping the population distracted while the powerful amassed even greater wealth. Politicians and elites hid behind polished smiles, their hands deep in criminal syndicates and shady businesses. Any attempt to expose them vanished beneath money, violence, threats and manipulating media.
***
Hours later, the Commander leaned back in his chair and stretched.
"Time to go home," he sighed.
knock knock
"Come in."
Jeanne peeked through the door. "Commander, wanna go home together? Filian's waiting for us."
"Yeah," he said, while standing up from his chair. "Let's go."
***
Outside, as they walked down the steps, a young girl came sprinting toward them, waving wildly.
"Jeanne!"
"Filian!"
She leapt into Jeanne's arms.
"And Mister's here too!" Filian giggled, rushing over to the Commander.
"Hey," he said gently. "How was school?"
"Boring… All the girls play without me." Her shoulders slumped.
Jeanne pulled her into a hug. "Don't worry. Your sister and Mister will play with you tonight, okay?"
Filian brightened up almost instantly. "Okay!"
On the way home, they pass a familiar figure.
"Spare some change?" the beggar asks, then looks up. He recognizes the Commander. "Oh! It's you, young man."
He glanced at Jeanne and Filian. "Such a beautiful wife and daughter."
The Commander chuckled. "Co-worker and her sister. But here, get yourself something warm alright?"
"Thank you kind sir… and God bless you."
***
Jeanne's home was a modern white building, two stories tall with a balcony overlooking the street.
"Stay for dinner?" she asked.
"I'll pass tonight," he said apologetically. "Still have leftovers from yesterday."
"Oh, tomorrow then. No excuses tomorrow tho." Jeanne said dotingly.
"Deal."
"Bye-bye, Mister!" Filian waved enthusiastically.
"Be a good girl and listen to your sister alright?" he replied.
"Good night, Commander," Jeanne says with a warm smile.
***
His own apartment was quiet. Sometimes maybe a bit too quiet.
He reheated Jeanne's food and gobbled it down.
"This is really good," he muttered.
The Commander had no family. His memories began at age ten, waking in a hospital bed, doctors speaking of brain surgery. He remembers nothing before that.
He shook the thoughts away. "No point worrying about a past I can't remember. It's getting late anyway I should hit the sack."
***
Fire engulfed the city.
Screams tore through the air as meteors rained from the sky, obliterating buildings on impact. Heat scorched his skin. The stench of burning flesh filled his nostrils. Smoke fills his lungs and he starts coughing.
He tries to run away. He can't. He's locked in place and forced to witness corpses turn to ash, children cry and people burn.
Through the chaos, he sees something: Jeanne running toward him, Filian in her arms. A sense of relief came over him. But only short lived. He hears a thundering sound and looks up.
A meteor fell.
Exactly at the spot where those two were running.
With a loud crunch both of them disappear under the boulder.
They were gone.
Reduced to a pile of flesh.
A blood puddle starts to form under the rock, flowing out calmly with all the time in the world.
He wants to scream, to cry. He tries again and again. However, no sound and no tears.
***
He jolted awake, gasping. Sweat soaked his sheets.
"Just a dream," he whispered. "Just a dream…"
As he calmed himself, he lay down again.
Suddenly light flared outside his window.
A distant impact shook the ground.
Shouting echoed through the night.
The Commander rushed to the window.
Far away, something burned.