When humanity ventures into space—to Mars, its moons, and the asteroid belt—a new gold rush ignites. Investors worldwide channel their capital in pursuit of wealth, constructing factories, ships, and extracting resources. Mars, once a barren and desolate planet, transforms into a thriving colony. Massive factories process asteroids, extracting rare elements, and the complex synthesis of materials becomes the foundation of the entire economic life. Now, Mars and its surroundings are referred to as the Outer Belt of Civilization.

  But all this comes at a cost. Mars' economy consumes resources on a massive scale, and one of the main ones is ergon, a synthetic material produced by the Mercury Corporation in orbit around the Sun. Ergon becomes not just a source of energy—it becomes the pulse of the entire civilization, its lifeblood. Just a few grams of this substance can power entire cities, and its shortage can become a source of conflict and manipulation.

  Mars itself, with its green meadows, clear lakes, and majestic mountains, appears as an oasis amidst the red desert. But this is merely an illusion, created to soothe colonists weary from sleepless work shifts. Outside the presidential offices' windows stretch not picturesque landscapes, but lifeless wastelands. This serves as a reminder that all this beauty is just a facade, concealing the true nature of Mars, where every day is a struggle for resources, and the ruthless politics of corporations have long dictated their terms.

  President Marcus stands by the panoramic window, enjoying a view crafted by artificial intelligence. The system paints idealized landscapes before him, as if attempting to conceal the cracks of reality. He knows it's all unreal. He knows that behind the illusion lies only emptiness, yet, for a moment, he allows himself to believe in this world. He catches himself feeling warmth, which isn't truly there, and the scent of grass, which has never existed here. His fingers touch the cool glass, and he realizes that these are merely echoes of Earth, echoes of a life he can no longer reclaim.

  The flexible, almost living illusion before his eyes is like a breath, capable of calming the nervous system. Artificial intelligence draws harmony, creating a world where he and his people can feel part of something grand. But Marcus, like everyone on this planet, harbors a secret. The hologram is just a cover. He's accustomed to it. Sometimes he thinks that without these illusions, his psyche wouldn't withstand this place, this endless expanse filled with emptiness, pulling away everything he once knew. All these years on Mars have been a race for survival, where each morning is a battle against the inevitable.

  At this moment, by the window, Marcus almost feels his heart beating in unison with that silent, frozen world he sees but can never touch. He can't tear his gaze away from the view, as if he knows: these illusions are the only thing keeping him alive.

  Again, as always in such moments, he senses something greater and more important. He looks at the horizons of this new world, created by artificial intelligence, and feels a slight chill on his skin, as if this illusion seeks to deceive him. He closes his eyes, trying to reclaim even a small part of reality, and when he opens them, the illusion still exists before him. But now it seems empty, like life itself.

  "Ani, the agent, has arrived with a report," the secretary's voice comes from the desk speaker, slightly trembling, as if tension fills the air.

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  "Let her in," Marcus replies, not taking his eyes off the holographic map, where data on the current situation loops repeatedly. He presses the communication button, but his face remains serious, as always when it comes to important matters.

  A girl enters the office, wearing a form-fitting metallic-colored suit, its sheen reflecting the dim light. Her every movement is precise, like that of an experienced soldier, and her voice sounds steady, though her eyes reveal an unimaginable excitement, barely restrained enthusiasm.

  "Mr. President," she begins, suppressing a smile that only slightly touches the corners of her lips. "Our scientists and engineers have created a prototype of nanoparticles; they rapidly replicate within an infected organism. The particles can alter an android's consciousness, redirecting its reactions and forcing it to execute programmed behaviors. Once the task is complete, the nanoparticles self-destruct, leaving no trace. We've conducted successful prototype tests."

  Marcus turns to her, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk, reflecting the confidence that comes with good news. He slowly rubs his hands together, engrossed in his thoughts, like a predator ready to deliver a decisive blow.

  "Excellent news," he says, almost with pleasure. "All project participants should be rewarded. This will serve as good motivation for continued work."

  "It will be done, Mr. President," Ani nods briefly, and her eyes, though cold, still reveal a spark of pride in the operation's success.

  But then her expression becomes more serious, and she pauses, as if realizing the importance of the next message.

  "There's one more piece of news," she continues, stepping forward, as if preparing Marcus for the crucial part of the report. "We've reached an agreement with an Earth mercenary. He's ready to accept the assignment. The time until the diplomats' meeting is almost up. To successfully execute your plan, we need to initiate the operation now. We're awaiting your order."

  Marcus listens to her silently, his gaze becoming more cautious, almost evaluative, like someone deciding the fate not only of his empire but also the planet's future.

  He slowly turns to her, his face showing only a slight shadow of doubt, but only for a moment. His entire demeanor exudes confidence, his voice becoming deep and firm, like a hammer striking an anvil.

  "Excellent," he says, and a barely noticeable smirk appears on his lips, as if he's just solved a complex puzzle.

  He looks at her with a long, penetrating gaze, assessing not only her words but also her, knowing that each of her gestures hides unseen strength.

  "I order the operation to commence," he finally declares, with clear determination in his voice, prompting her to straighten up.

  "Yes, Mr. President," she responds, restrained, but her voice now carries not only emphasized military discipline but also a certain excitement about the upcoming event.

  Marcus turns back to the window, his gaze lost in the illusory landscape that once brought him comfort. Now, with each glance, he feels increasingly detached from the world he's striving so hard to preserve. He needs change, a new order, even if it means taking risks.

  "All this is for the living..." his voice sounds almost like a mantra, filling the space he immerses himself in.

  "For the living..." Ani echoes, her words, as always, precise and clear, but now they carry something deeper, like a promise she made to herself and the president.

  She exits the room with a swift step, and despite her confidence, a barely perceptible hint of anxiety lingers in her movements—as if she senses the weight of what has just been decided and realizes that this decision can no longer be undone.