Dystopian Space Survival

They told us survival was instinct. That we'd adapt to anything if it meant one

more breath. But they never warned us about the weight. Not the gravity...

...the weight of remembering a world you can never touch again. Every step out

here is a silent battle against despair. The vast emptiness mirrors the void

inside. Resources dwindle. Every signal from home is a ghost of hope,

fading with each passing cycle. This isn't just about breathing. It's about finding

a reason to keep fighting. When all seems lost, you find a

flicker, a memory, a promise. That's what fuels the journey.