I become instantly aware upon my awakening from what possibly could have been my tomb; this immediately fills me with relief. The HUD on my cryo-chamber informs me that it has been just over 105 years since this particular Ark's submersion. The nanotrites that were injected into my circulatory system slowly restore my vitals to optimum condition; the feeling is comparable to waking up after a long nap, as the hatch releases and the hydraulics on the door hiss as it opens. The equipment that runs and monitors the systems have been destroyed. Whether this is from the passage of time, the Apophis impact, or the Ark's reemergence, I do not know.
Some of the systems are still online, informing me that the Ark has indeed emerged, and that I have not woken prematurely in an Ark still buried hundreds of feet underground. The outdoor monitors take and analyze samples of the air and soil, quickly determining that it is safe to leave the Ark.
Taking a more critical look around, I begin to realize how lucky I truly am. This is based not only on observations of the equipment, but the other Ark CrewMembers. Simply put, the other crew members have begun to decay. Their features are skeletal, what little skin remains has taken on a gray hue and is pulled tight over the bones in the areas still covered. Briefly I wonder if I looked to be in a similar condition before the nanotrites restored me; if there is a chance they too will awaken. A bitter laugh escapes; I know that something went wrong and that they will not awaken; survival was not guaranteed when we accepted this mission.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I find myself standing in front of the central computer. I start the diagnostics program and auto-repair; however, based on my observations, I know that it will require months to determine what has and what went wrong, as well as repairing those systems that can be. There is one last program to open; it is the last transmission the Ark received before the Apophis impact. I open it and groan at the irony. What was once a cliché in save-the-world-from-the-apocalypse movies from a time long passed is now the last message before the human race was devastated. In it, the President of the United States informs us that we, the Ark survivors are the last hope of mankind, and he wishes us Godspeed; likely an encouragement to work for a better future.
Probing the database further, I come across some disturbing information. Shortly prior to burial, the Artificial Intelligence (A.I.) was ordered to alter the date of emergence. It is impossible to tell who gave these orders, but whoever was had all the authorization codes to ensure the change happened. This means it was someone with a higher rank and access to more information than I do. Even as Ark Leader, I do not know the codes to make any massive changes. This combined with the knowledge that this is one of the few Arks where the CrewMembers are all combat personnel is a cause for worry. It seems as if someone wanted us out of the way. Hopefully this is the paranoia of a new situation and environment affecting me; however, I have not survived this long without considering all possible angles.
Stepping back from the computer, I take stock of the few weapons that were stored prior to the Ark burial. All of them have rusted and crumbled into innumerable pieces. I run through some stretches to limber up; this is followed by a few stances of the martial arts forms I picked up during my Navy SEAL training. I can feel my muscles loosen and coil as I move; it is a heady feeling that reminds me of my pre-mission preparatory routine. The physical exercises help sharpen my mind and senses allowing for preparation for what may happen.
As I approach the door leading to the outside world, I harden my gaze. If there is something that desires to harm me, I am as prepared as I can be to face whatever may happen. Reaching for the panel that will release the locks and open the doors, I hesitate. Suddenly, my preparation is not enough and my mind begins to wander.
Am I ready to face this new world? Am I capable of doing what is necessary to ensure a better future? What would those that I left behind to perish in the great calamity think of me now? These are the thoughts that plague my mind. Slowly, my training and preparation reasserts itself, and I re-attain a state of calm. I realize that regardless of these questions I am here now, and that I must do what I must while still following the ideals of Honor, Courage, and Commitment that defined my military career and life. I open the door and it glides open with a gust of air; I am temporarily blinded by the sunlight that filters in.
As I blink away the spots that filled my vision, I take in my surroundings. What was once a luscious landscape, has transformed into a desolate wasteland. Mountains surround me, stretching to the heavens. Looking out, I see that the Ark is perched upon a precipice. I cautiously walk to edge of one of the numerous metal walkways; they have begun to rust and some of the moorings into the cliffside appear loose. Glancing down, I observe what appears to be a small lake with an unknown machine in it. On the far side of the bowl, there are the remnants of some colossal building that is slowly collapsing into the ravine below. I do an about face, and begin trudging towards the only opening that I can access. Spanning the small opening is a natural rock bridge approximately fifteen (15) meters above my head. The ground is littered with several large boulders that I must navigate past in order to truly exit the area of my emergence.