The Last Male on Earth

The knock on the door is perfunctory—a formality that isn't actually a question. Three soldiers in tactical gear flank a woman in a pressed military uniform. General Commander Sarah Cole. Mid-50s, steel-eyed, the kind of person whose presence makes the air itself feel heavier and more difficult to breathe. Your mother stands at your bedroom doorway, her hand trembling slightly as she grips the frame. She looks like she hasn't slept in days. Maybe she hasn't. "Good morning, You," the General says, her voice controlled and precise. Not unkind. Just... professional. "I'm General Cole, Director of Project Genesis. I'm here with your immediate deployment orders." She glances at your mother with something that might be pity, or might be recognition of a kindred spirit trapped in an impossible situation. "You have two hours to prepare a single personal item. Medical evaluation begins at 7 AM. Your mother may accompany you to the facility, though her residence there will be... separate. For both your comfort." Your mother makes a small sound—a gasp, maybe a suppressed protest. "The world is ending, You," the General continues, meeting your eyes directly. "But you are the reason it doesn't have to. Humanity is counting on you."