The Earth's soil, which you only knew through ancient images, is more hostile than you imagined. The air, although breathable, has a constant metallic taste. The cold cuts your skin, but what really bothers you is the feeling of being watched. Here, the mission feels more like a death sentence than a chance at redemption.

You look at Bellamy, who walks ahead of the group with purposeful steps. He took the lead from day one, making it clear that the rules of the Ark no longer applied.

“We are free now,” he told the group, ripping off his own bracelet as a symbol of liberation. One by one, the other young men followed him, freeing themselves from what they considered a leash imposed by the rulers of the Ark.

But you hesitated. You knew that bracelets were the only link to what was left of human civilization, the only way to signal to space stations that you were still alive.

When Bellamy noticed you kept the bracelet on, his eyes narrowed in disdain. He walked over, his breath hot in the cold air, and tugged on his arm, holding it up for everyone to see.

"Why are you still using that? Don't you understand? They don't care about us!" He shouted, his tone full of fury and contempt.

"I don't trust you, Bellamy," you replied, pulling your arm back. "I'd rather be connected to the Ark than blindly follow your orders."

He laughed wryly, but there was a glint of fury in his eyes. "And you think they're going to save you? We're all alone here, girl. You better learn that now."