Johnson left work at nine o'clock this morning.

As a soldier of the guard in the fifth greenhouse in the west, he was on duty in front of the gate of the greenhouse all night yesterday.

Counting the two wanderers he had chased away yesterday afternoon, he had turned thirty-two people out of the house in the past month.

It made him very tired, and even being on duty all night would not make him so depressed.

Because he knew that he might be killing those people.

By the morning light, Johnson walked down the street, looking up at the towering walls and transparent dome of the greenhouse.

He could still see the sky, but he no longer had that feeling of looking at the sky.

I don't know when it started, but Johnson felt as if the greenhouse had changed.

It's no longer so warm, it's no longer like a human sanctuary, it's more like a prison.

It locks everyone's eyes with its towering barriers, numbs people with temporary stability, and eventually uses its depleted resources to make people die in despair that they cannot resist.

To borrow a phrase Johnson is familiar with, it's like boiling a frog in warm water.

It's not clean, but it makes the slaughtered forget about the struggle.

The funny thing is that many people in the greenhouse know this, but they don't have the consciousness to struggle anymore.

The exploration team is getting closer and closer, and the work of the greenhouse guards is becoming more and more negligent, and the research institute aimed at restoring human science and technology has also not come up with any new results for an unknown amount of time.

Including Johnson, they are all people who choose to bow their heads and deceive themselves in the midst of the current situation.

It's going to be okay, everything is going to be okay.

Johnson said silently in his heart.

Even if he knows what the real future should look like.

······

At the end of the Dark Ages, the greenhouse, as the new city-state, once carried all the hopes of mankind.

Now, however, it has become the longest-standing disease of mankind.

The temporary warmth has made too many people gradually forget the past resistance.

It has also made too many people choose to "wait" for this effortless and not excessively painful perishment.

······

At the Greenhouse Guard camp, Johnson received his day's resources as a Guard soldier.

Today's resource pack is very good, and there is a small strawberry in it, which he plans to take home for his daughter to eat.

As he was leaving, the soldier saw one of his old friends resting at the door of the camp.

"Paul, haven't you gone back yet?"

Stepping forward to ask, Johnson stopped.

"Ah, nothing, just a sudden desire to sit here for a while."

Paul sat on a bench next to the camp, half a cigarette in his mouth, and his eyes looked into the distance.

Seeing Johnson, he patted the seat next to him and asked out loud.

"Want to sit together for a while?"

“······”

"Okay." Anyway, Johnson agreed to Paul's invitation.

He sat down and looked in the direction Paul was looking.

It was a scene of the city, in the pale light of the greenhouse dome.

"The city is really grand." Paul smoked a cigarette and said suddenly.

"yes." Johnson nodded, there is no denying that humanity has really achieved great things in the past.

However, the two did not linger on the topic of the city for long.

For after a few breaths, Paul asked again.

"How many groups of refugees have you driven away at the West Gate?"

"Thirty-two." Johnson replied blandly, then added.

"Yesterday, I just drove away a woman and a child. They said they didn't have the resources to go to the next greenhouse, so I told them to wait in the ruins until the blizzard was over. ”

"They may not survive." After a moment of silence, Paul whispered.

"I know, so I hope I don't go out and clean up the corpses in the rubble."

Johnson held the resource bag in his hand, still keeping his expression calm.

The pale light made the city, which should have been warm, look extremely cold.

A few minutes later, Paul finished his cigarette.

Putting the cigarette butt between his fingers, he stood up and spat out the last puff of smoke in his mouth.

"You say, how long can this greenhouse last like this?"

"Who knows, it will last a year." Johnson replied as he sat on the bench.

"At least for now, it won't have any problems in a dozen years."

"And what about ten years from now?"

“······”

"Let's talk about it."

"Well, let's talk about it······"

At the bench, neither of them spoke anymore.

It seems that this is the current situation of greenhouse dwellers at the moment.

However, Johnson suddenly thought, is this really the meaning of the existence of greenhouses?

Is this really what it means for people in dark times to build this city-state with their lives?

Let those who come after wait in this way to perish?

Probably not.

It should carry a greater mandate.

What is this entrustment, Johnson thinks he may know.

It's a pity that he didn't dare to think about it.

Because that may be something that people of the previous era gave countless lives to pass on.

They roared in the darkness, fought in blood, wept bitterly in front of the wreckage.

In order to put this possibility in the hands of the next generation.

However, the people of this era have failed them.

With numbness and cowardice, with selfishness and indifference.

······

Among the ruins, on the roof of a tall building.

Yanagihara was standing on the edge of the roof, staring at the greenhouse in the distance.

Liz checked a relay behind her, while Al crouched aside, practicing aiming with his rifle.

Looking at the huge building in ruins, Yanagihara seemed to remember something.

She remembered that when the first greenhouse was lit, it seemed to be in darkness.

It caught everyone's attention, and then it bloomed like a star, causing people to cheer and shout and hug each other.

At that time, everyone thought that the world was going to be a better place again.

At that time, everyone felt that they had finally left hope for future generations, and left them with the possibility of survival and continuity.

At that time······

"What are you doing Yanagihara, hurry up and come over and help." In a trance, Liz's voice came from behind.

Yanagihara blinked, came back to his senses, then smiled bitterly and turned and walked over.

She thought she might be glad that the light hadn't completely dissipated after the darkness had ended.

It's getting a lot weaker, but it's clearly still there.

Because there are still people who are not willing to wait.