Blake opened his eyes when the VR capsule automatically removed his helmet. Then the wires, tubes, and sensors disconnected from his body one by one. The warm blue fluorescent lighting of the small diode lamps inside gradually became brighter, so as not to injure the eyes. A pleasant female voice started the countdown and after three seconds the door opened and he went outside into his room. Like an astronaut from a spaceship. There were only underpants on his body, his back was scarred, blind in one eye, and the other was azure-blue, having absorbed the pain of the past, he was white as a corpse. The hair was long, greasy. Muscles covered the sinewy body, palms in calluses. And there was a scar in the lower right abdominal cavity.

Through the thin curtains, the white rays of the sun at sunset made their way into the room. Yellow sidelights lit up on the walls. A table, chairs, a bed - all this was hiding behind the wall and moved out on command. The exception was a bookcase, old as this world, made of expensive mahogany. It'd been two hundred years since humanity had produced such things. On the central shelf, Blake picked up a photograph showing the moment of his graduation from the military academy. It showed him and his father, both holding rifles, smiles on their faces. There was also a dusty image of his mother, but he did not even look in its direction. The shelves above and below were full of books on weapons and military subjects.

Blake returned the photo to its place, stood in the center of the room as if rooted to the spot, and turned over and over the phrase "my things are not to blame for my death." His hands were so eager to break something, throw it at the wall. He sat down on a fluffy carpet made of artificial sheep wool and screamed and bent in a prayer pose and clenched his hands into fists and only half an hour later he reached the living room and activated a DNA-locked computer looking like a portable hologram with the function of expanding and decreasing the screen size and went to the game website and clicked on the player rating tab and found himself in the 53rd place.

Blake pre-arranged a premium subscription for himself for a whole year. One of the many useful functions provided an opportunity for players to be reborn not after seven days, but 24 hours after death. He also received discounts in the in-game store, special orders, his safety, a warehouse, and additional sets of military ammunition, including a "Ghillie" camouflage.

The living room space was empty, there was practically nothing there, except for buttons on the walls, columns, and door jambs, and white neon lights located on the ceiling. It's like being in purgatory after hell. Blake went to the far corner and entered an eight-digit PIN code on the dashboard. The mechanism started to work, the top panel of the wall moved forward a couple of centimeters and dropped down, and after it opened a safe filled with weapons appeared. Blake took out the Barrett M107A1 and slung it over his shoulder and took an electronic cigarette of the Eco smoke SYL model with a huge 100ml tank, pressed the close button and went to a small box next to it, and took out tobacco liquid using the purest genetically modified marijuana without carcinogens, flavors, toxins and so on, the brand "Antiontichi" (or AOC). He smoked.

"Smoking is bad for your health," a voice echoed throughout the apartment.

"And you're bad for my mental health, but I'm still using you anyway," Blake replied in a low voice with a slight note of hoarseness.

"Tomorrow you have an appointment with a veterans' aid group."

"Tell Lorrie to fuck off."

"I'm not programmed for such actions. If you want to cancel an appointment, contact the supervisor yourself. However, I must remind you that group meetings help cope with post-traumatic syndrome. There you will find people close to you in spirit and…"

"That's enough," Blake interrupted the AI.

In the kitchen, there were two white sofas made of artificial white nubuck around the table. An electronic clock with today's date 24.08.2311 was ticking on the lintel. Two small boxes with the name EF-312 stood in the corner of the room and were illuminated by herbal-green light. Next to them was a refrigerator and an AB-100 garbage-burning. Blake went to the wall behind the sofa and caught himself thinking how his hands were still shaking with anger. He looked at his palms and felt a sense of detachment towards his body. Fear enveloped his consciousness. Blake staggered and almost fell. He mumbled and tried to say something, but the speech turned out to be incoherent. The smart house was saying something, but its voice seemed distant and muffled. Everything happened as if in a dream. After ten minutes, the terrible condition stopped. Blake crawled to the couch. The armrest rose and a glass of water and pills came out of it, which made their way through the internal system of the house through special pipes from the bathtub to the living room.

"Do not neglect the pills."

"Yeah."

He put two capsules in his mouth, washed down with a lot of water and turned on the TV located along the entire wall and put the AOC next to him, and took a drag and the small built-in vape speaker emitted a barely audible crackle of smoldering ashes. Artificial, but still nice. He held the SYL forward and watched the remaining steam rise from the mouthpiece upwards. The news began on the first federal channel. In the background of the video sequence, a female voice talked about the events which happened seven years ago. When the Earth Alliance attacked the planet to get a new kind of energy resource, but they faced serious resistance and war broke out. Humans seized more and more territories every day, captives were sent to prisons or correctional labor. So much time has passed since the day a person gained consciousness, and his methods have not changed, as have the laws of war. The wrinkled face of the president appeared on the screen, he began to talk about plans, about the future, about innovations and new changes, in the end, he recalled the tragic history of the 22nd century and ended with the thought "do not forget your ancestors."

Blake went to the far wall with the SYL in his mouth, pulled two small cubes out of the refrigerator, the size of two nails, on which it said "Burger classic" and "Herbal tea". He put them in the first EF-312 box and waited a couple of minutes. Rallies of people began to be broadcast on TV, chanting about the rights of the whole universe, how hostages should not be used as slaves, how the government had forgotten the word diplomacy. The leaders of the movement reminded the whole world that the perpetrators of these inhumane actions have not been brought to justice, although everyone knows who they are. Today, was exactly five years since the creatures from the planet NSR-318556A decided to destroy themselves and their homeland. The prisoners of war also disappeared. And we were alone in the universe again.