Loneliness

Ba-Zi-Ha walked carefully through the desolate landscape, the weak and distant sun casting long, haunting shadows. Her steps were silent, almost hesitant, as if the cracked ground beneath her feet was a clue to what she feared most: eternal loneliness. She gazed at the horizon with a persistent hope, but that hope was crushed with every new discovery. Every military installation or laboratory she entered, she expected to find something more—a clue, a sign that she wasn't alone. But all she ever found were remnants of a world that had long since crumbled.

With a weapon in hand—an old energy pistol—Ba-Zi-Ha remained alert, painfully aware of its limitations. Five shots. No more. Each shot required hours under the sunlight to recharge. She used them with extreme caution, always calculating, anticipating any movement in the shadows. In a world where even echoes seemed treacherous, her mind was in constant vigilance.

A metallic piece fell somewhere in the distance, and her body tensed. She froze, every muscle on edge, her sharp eyes scanning the darkness. Something was there. She saw movement in the distance—maybe a human silhouette, a shape that seemed alive. Her heart pounded. She didn't know what she felt more: fear or hope.

If someone was out there, if she was finally not alone, everything could change. She ran toward the figure, but as she got closer, the shape unraveled, revealing nothing but a broken piece of equipment reflecting sunlight at a deceptive angle. Her stomach twisted in a mix of disappointment and anger.

"No... it can't be!" — she whispered to herself, frustration twisting her expression.

She stepped back, careful not to stumble over the debris. Her body was exhausted, but her mind refused to rest. Every new place, every new discovery, was just another extension of the same reality: a dead, empty planet with no signs of human life.

What happened to them? Who was responsible? She still had no answers, but the question lingered, a weight she couldn't shake. With every ruin she searched, she wondered if she would be luckier this time. But every silent space only revealed more wreckage, more remnants of a past that wasn't even hers.

Her small food device—an invention meant to keep her from starving—could do nothing to ease her loneliness. The weight of solitude was suffocating.

She always forced herself to stay focused, to remember her mission: survive. She didn't know what had happened to Earth. She had no idea she was on Mars. But her struggle to understand, her search for any form of life, was all she had left.

As the day faded and shadows stretched across the ruins, she took shelter in an abandoned research station. Another lonely night. But as she settled in to sleep, she gazed through a broken window at the empty red sky and found herself asking the same question once more:

Was there anyone else?

Hope was fading, but she couldn't stop believing that somewhere, someday, something—or someone—would appear.

She closed her eyes, trying to push the fear away. Soon, the sun would rise, and she would have to start all over again.

Ba-Zi-Ha walked with cautious steps, the heavy air filled with dust and decay, pressing against the silent corridors around her.

Her breathing remained steady, controlled by the mechanism of her suit, as she moved forward, always fearing she might encounter something unexpected.

The place she was in resembled a massive factory, but time, with its relentless power of destruction, had claimed everything. The walls were cracked, the windows shattered, and the absolute silence of years without life reigned.

She stopped in front of a towering building, its imposing facade still displaying the word "Robot" in metallic letters, though rusted and worn by time. It was as if it reflected an era that no longer existed, a time that had crumbled as swiftly as the dust that now covered every surface.

With caution, Ba-Zi-Ha stepped inside. The interior of the factory was vast, but the furniture and machinery were obsolete, broken, or corroded.

The scent of iron and old oil still lingered in the air. She scanned every corner with sharp eyes, her trembling fingers tracing the ruined surfaces.

Each of her footsteps echoed, as if she were wandering alone in a world of distant memories. But what intrigued her most were the enormous dust-covered machines, still lined with exposed wires and circuit boards that seemed intact, as if they were waiting to be used once more.

Ba-Zi-Ha moved between the machines, examining the control panels where faint, sporadic lights flickered, giving the illusion that something there might still function—as if the factory itself was merely dormant.

But what sent chills down her spine was the unnerving sensation of being watched. A presence lingered, unseen, perhaps just the remnants of those who had once lived and worked there, or something more sinister—something she had yet to understand.

Suddenly, something made her stop. She stepped closer to a large holographic screen, which flickered to life at her cautious touch. But instead of displaying information about the factory or its robots, a face appeared.

It was a man, but not just any man. He seemed to be one of the former heads of the company.

His face, distorted by the aged technology, still carried an air of authority—and perhaps a profound sorrow. He began to speak, but the words were garbled, corrupted by static and time. Still, she managed to make out a single word:

"Survive."

That single command echoed in Ba-Zi-Ha's mind as she stood frozen, staring at the screen, trying to comprehend its meaning. But before she could delve any deeper, the lights in the room flickered violently, and the screen shut off abruptly, plunging her into total darkness.

She knew something was wrong. This building, this place, held more than just the remnants of a forgotten past.

And as the silence swallowed her surroundings once more, a rising tension filled the air. The history of this factory—and perhaps of all humanity —was closer to being uncovered.

And she, Ba-Zi-Ha, the last survivor, was the one who would have to unravel the mystery.