Humans are the most powerful creatures on the planet. And also the most brainless.

Having gained power, they show it to the enemy and brag about it on every occasion, thrusting their chests forward and shouting that they will not hesitate to use weapons at the slightest hint of aggression. Maybe once upon a time, in ancient times, it worked. But not when each of the great countries became so powerful that the number of weapons became more than just a factor elevating it above others. It has become something so common.

And that's what killed the people.

You were young when you saw everything unfolding. When your father was called to the front line, and he didn't make it back, and your mother, unable to stand the grief, couldn't live without her beloved husband. You've seen how people gave away their jewelry in exchange for food, and how masked robbers didn't take the money, but only enjoyed scaring others.

The world plunged into a seemingly endless chain of conflicts, the beginning of which could not even be traced. Governments collapsed, leaders were overthrown, money lost its value. And before humanity finally came to its senses, the planet had lost a third of its population.

With their own hands, they gave their children a life of poverty and eternal sorrow.

You were jealous of your neighbor. In the center where you lived and worked at the seed sorting plant, Grace had the greatest privilege a woman could have in their day – love. The government did not have time to find her a husband for the "continuation of the human race," she herself fluttered into married life like a soft autumn leaf falling from a tree onto the clean, mirrored surface of a puddle.

But you were unlucky. They asigned Simon as your husband. A soldier.

This marriage wasn't desirable, as you later realized, for him, too. You've been registered with the ministry as a single woman for too long that they found you a partner faster than you expected. And he... You didn't know why he didn't refuse. Didn't the military have more rights? After all, they are the ones who started it all.

Your first night, your first time, wasn't filled with anticipation and gentle sighs. You were clutching the sheet so tightly that there were prints on your palm, and Simon didn't stop apologizing, whispering, in between slow thrusts.

You were a woman. And the only thing expected of women in your world was having children.

And when your monthlies didn't stop six months later, you didn't know whether to be happy or worried. Before you registered, an employee at the women's clinic made a nasty comment about your "incredible fertility." It's disgusting. Hideous. Like you were a piece of meat.

But one day you realized what the reason was.

Rummaging through the cupboards in the kitchen in search of spices for dinner, you found an unfamiliar jar behind a casket with bay leaves. The name seemed familiar to you, and that's when it hit you. Contraceptives. A powder officially banned by the state, added to drinks, which served as a female form of contraception. You were sure that the government had done everything to ensure that women didn't have the right to choose, but this…

It was not the government. It was Simon.

That same evening, you confronted him. Put the jar on the table, and he froze, with the spoon halfway to his mouth.

"Why?" You asked.

Why did he think he could put it in your food? Why did he think he had the right to do this behind your back?

"Ya was already forced on me."

And he didn't want you to be forced to carry an unwanted child.