"I'm... alive! After that accident?"

  Memories from what felt like only yesterday flooded Sam’s mind. He sat there, eyes vacant, unable to process the news the AI had just delivered.

  "I really died, didn't I? This body is artificial? Those memories were just programmed into me? Tell me the truth."

  Sam recalled the sci-fi movies he’d seen. In them, the protagonists died and had their consciousness uploaded into cyborg shells.

  "Your body is entirely of natural biological composition, not artificial," the AI replied.

  "Don't lie. How could a biological body survive this long?" he countered, relying on his own understanding of science.

  "To be precise, at that moment, you were practically dead, Master. Only a flickering spark of hope remained. The Chairwoman decided to use the experimental restoration technology the corporation was developing on you... In other words, this new recovery tech actually succeeded."

  The AI spoke with a hint of excitement, cutting through Sam's train of thought.

  "Succeeded after a thousand years?!"

  He let out a mocking laugh. If that were true, he was nothing more than a successful AnD experiment. He was the evidence—the key to the door of "immortality" that humanity had sought since the dawn of time.

  In Sam’s studies, he knew of many kings, emperors, and scientists who had spent fortunes searching for ways to extend life: Qin Shi Huang, the Egyptian Pharaohs, Alexander the Great, or modern figures like Larry Page, Sergey Brin, Jeff Bezos, and Bryan Johnson.

  "So, Mother succeeded!"

  A sudden wave of joy washed over him; he nearly cheered.

  "It remains a success," the AI interjected, pulling Sam back to a grim reality. "Outside... what is it like? After a thousand years. Does AnD still exist?"

  He asked with a sliver of hope. Sam didn't ask about his mother because he knew Adela Barton couldn't possibly have survived that long. But deep down, he hoped the AI would say something like: "The Chairwoman also entered a stasis pod like you." Then, he would have something to live for.

  "About that... I do not have sufficient data regarding the current world. All my information ends at the moment the 'Digital Life 1' vessel was deployed to the ocean floor."

  "The 'Digital Life 1'?" Sam asked, surprised.

  "This very place. It is an underwater station deployed to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean following the 3i/Atlas event."

  "The 3i/Atlas event?"

  Sam nearly screamed. His brain was flooded with information about the interstellar object that the whole world had been buzzing about before his accident. Sam's disaster had happened precisely because he was distracted, reading the data on 3i/Atlas his mother had sent.

  "Quick, tell me about 3i/Atlas!" he demanded urgently.

  "On September 24, 2025, the interstellar object 3i/Atlas collided with Earth in the outskirts of Paris, France, causing an explosion equivalent to 1,500 megatons of TNT."

  "1,500 megatons... that city shouldn't even exist anymore!" Sam imagined the sheer scale of destruction in horror.

  "Correct. Paris was wiped off the map, though the French government had evacuated the population beforehand, so human casualties were limited."

  At that moment, an old memory resurfaced. Sam cried out, "3i/Atlas... it was a spacecraft, not an asteroid!"

  The AI went silent for a moment before answering: "Precisely. It was a spacecraft not of human origin."

  "It crashed into Earth instead of landing. Was there no one piloting it?"

  "According to my records, it was a 'dead' ship, but..." the AI hesitated.

  "But what?" Sam’s curiosity was laced with dread.

  "After the collision, an alien virus was released from the crash site, triggering a global catastrophe."

  Sam went numb. His mind flashed back to the COVID-19 pandemic—a health disaster he could never forget.

  "What kind of virus could cause a global catastrophe?" Sam asked, still imagining people dying of respiratory failure.

  "Patient Zero was a French military scientist. Upon infection, they became frenzied and began biting those around them. Within six months, the virus went global. Those infected lost all consciousness, driven only by the urge to maul any living creature they encountered."

  "Zom... Zombies!?" Sam gasped, goosebumps erupting across his skin. What he thought only existed in movies had become reality.

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  "It is officially designated as 'Extraterrestrial Viral Consciousness Loss Syndrome'," the AI informed him.

  By now, Sam had begun to walk slowly. He felt his muscles recovering at an incredible rate. He wasn't sure if it was due to the machine, but for a normal person, this would have taken months.

  "Tell me more about the virus. How did humanity fight back?"

  "In a short time, the virus spread too fast for a cure. Eventually, they decided to use nuclear weapons to solve the problem once and for all. However..."

  Sam waited in silence. Recognizing the cue, the AI continued:

  "However, nuclear radiation acted as a catalyst, causing the virus to evolve into a much more potent strain. Scientists called it the S-Virus. This upgraded version transformed the 'undead' into creatures resembling a hybrid of a snake and a spider."

  Sam’s face turned pale; he trembled, nearly collapsing.

  "So humanity... was wiped out?" Sam stammered, picturing a wasteland overrun by bloodthirsty mutations.

  "That... I do not know. When AnD activated the 'Humanity Guardian' program, I was implanted into you and sent to the ocean floor. Since then, I have received no further updates and entered 'Standby' mode. I was reactivated when you woke up."

  "What is the 'Humanity Guardian' program?" Sam frowned. He felt like he had heard that name somewhere before, but the memory was hazy.

  "It was a program researched for years by AnD and the governments of major powers. It would never have been activated if not for this global disaster."

  "Can you be more specific?"

  "Regrettably, my access to AnD’s information systems is incomplete. That is all I know."

  Sam’s curiosity burned brighter despite the disappointment. Once he could walk normally, he began exploring the Digital Life 1. Though called a "vessel," it was more of an undersea base.

  It didn't take long to scout the entire station. There were five rooms in total. The largest held the restoration machine; the others served as food storage, living quarters, a physical training area, and a personal armory.

  After finding clothes to wear, Sam looked for food. Most of the supplies had rotted away. Only a few jars of sugar, salt, and honey remained edible.

  After a thousand years, only "superfoods" like sugar, salt, and honey could survive. Sam took some honey and sugar, nibbling on them to keep his blood sugar from crashing. He didn't eat much to avoid shocking his system. His main concern was food; water was taken care of by a desalination unit.

  "I need to get out of here. Without food, I’ll only last a few weeks," Sam told the AI.

  "We are currently at a depth of 2,000 meters in the southwest Celtic Sea, approximately 400km from the UK."

  Sam narrowed his eyes. Why so deep? But he immediately realized his mother probably wanted him as safe as possible.

  "Find a way out."

  "Digital Life 1 cannot move on its own; it was designed to wait for external resupply. However, in an emergency, the restoration pod can function as an escape craft."

  Hearing this, Sam scrambled to gather essentials. Along with water, he packed as much weaponry as possible. He didn't know what world awaited him, but he wasn't going to be helpless. He had been trained by elite special forces since childhood; survival was in his blood.

  In the armory, he grabbed two SA80 assault rifles and as much ammunition as he could carry. He also took a sidearm and a Tanto dagger—the kind used by US Special Ops.

  Once packed, he loaded everything into the pod and climbed in. To his right was a red button labeled "Emergency Egress."

  "Anything else? Are we ready?" Sam asked.

  "One moment, Master. I am downloading the latest situation update."

  "Latest update?"

  "Yes. The final information burst released by AnD during their last visit here."

  "It must have been Mother... she came to see me one last time," he whispered, his face darkening with grief. He took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to break down.

  "Download complete. We may depart," the AI announced.

  Sam’s hand hovered over the button. He worried if the escape function still worked after a millennium. If it failed, he would die here.

  Beep.

  The button turned red. With a hiss, the pod's lid sealed shut.

  "Egress sequence initiated. T-minus 10 seconds!" a voice announced. The room bathed in flashing red lights as alarms blared.

  "10... 9... 8... 7... 6..."

  Sam lay tucked in the pod, holding his breath. Old images flashed through his mind.

  "...3... 2... 1... Launch!"

  Sam felt his stomach drop as if entering zero gravity, followed by violent shaking. The pod was jettisoned into the abyss.

  "Depth: 2,060 meters. Commencing ascent," the voice echoed inside the pod.

  Outside was pitch black. The pod’s blinking lights were like a tiny firefly swallowed by the void. Sam felt the slow, steady upward motion. After a few minutes, he let out a sigh of relief.

  It was silent, save for the hum of the pod’s thrusters. Sam closed his eyes, gripping his rifle. His mind was a mess. What kind of world was waiting for him up there?

  He wasn't panicking—his training had prepared him for crises. But he had never been trained for this.

  Suddenly, Sam’s eyes snapped open. He stared through the glass into the dark. A sound made him freeze—a sharp snap, like a dry branch being broken.

  The pod was suddenly flooded with red emergency lights.

  "System failure detected!" "System failure detected!"

  The warnings shrieked.

  Creeeeak... snap!

  Sam turned pale. He looked at the glass viewport. A small crack had appeared.

  "The pod can't take the pressure!" he shouted.

  "Your assessment is correct, Master. Structural aging over time has compromised the hull's integrity."

  "Damn it!" Sam cursed. It was all he could do.

  The crack spread like a spiderweb. Water began to seep in. Instinctively, he tried to cover it with his hand—a futile gesture.

  "I'm going to die here," Sam whispered to himself.

  "Indeed. If the pod implodes, death is certain," the AI confirmed, adding salt to the wound.

  "Shut up! Find a way!" Sam screamed in despair.

  Crack... crack...

  The sounds were constant now. Water began to fill the floor of the pod.

  "Current depth: 1,100 meters. Estimated time to surface: 30 minutes."

  "I’m begging you, just hold on a bit longer," Sam prayed. His mind raced back to his survival training. He could dive to 200 meters without oxygen. If the pod could just reach that depth...

  Time slowed to a crawl. Each crack sounded like a gunshot. The water was now at his knees, slowing the ascent. From the outside, the pod looked like a jellyfish drifting in the deep, struggling upward.

  Creeak... snap... BOOM!

  At 800 meters, the structure gave out. The glass shattered, and the ocean struck Sam like a giant’s fist.

  He realized the disaster had struck. Instinctively, he shielded his head and took one final, massive gulp of the remaining air in the pod. The sea swallowed the craft in an instant.

  Sam felt like his body was being crushed by an immense force, trying to squeeze the air from his lungs and the blood from his veins. He struggled to kick free of the pod as it began its long sink back to the bottom.

  800 meters. Nearly four times the limit of human endurance. At this depth, consciousness fades in seconds. The pressure is a death sentence.

  Surrounded by total darkness, Sam’s mind drifted into a haze. Old memories flickered by like a film strip. His consciousness felt like a light breeze, blowing softly... then drifting away.