“Initiate video playback,” I said out loud, as per Leah's instruction. I also set the new earpiece that popped out of the console into my left ear. I wondered if she got the engineers to build that compartment specifically for me, or if it was just something that had always been part of the set.

My left eye blinked to black before slowly loading up colours. Gradually, after some static, those flashes of colours sharpened into a clear image.

My grandparents once told me there was a time, before even them, that people would make casts of the faces of the deceased as mementos or portraits. As a child, I would have nightmares of the faces of dead people come alive from these death masks to talk to me. Imaginations were wild back then. In real life however, it hits the heart much harder than the fear of nightmare could, at strings that were not expecting to be tugged.

“John, get the fuck out here!” Amelia screamed into the camera, ruining the heartfelt moment again. Her face settled dead centre on the screen. “Camera's rolling!” She waited for her brother to reply.

“Wait! I'm stuck!” I heard him scream. “Lindsey! Help!”

I heard Lindsey cursed something off-screen along the lines of “Useless idiot” while Amelia shook her head disappointingly at the camera.

She turned back to face the screen and I realized she was in the chamber. Not with me now, but in a brightly lit, slightly cleaner chamber from decades ago.

“So um...hey old man. Found mom's diary and she said this video thing would work, so I'm hoping it does.” A loud crash came from behind her and she winced in almost physical pain. Recovering after a sigh, she continued, “Anyway, if you're watching this, we're all probably long gone. But we wanted you to know what's been happening with us and some other mushy stuff.”

I pulled out the chair behind the control console, probably the same one Amelia sat in as she made that video and realized that as the video continued to play, my other eye continued to adjust its aperture to cope with the darkness. I wondered if it would be able to see fully in the dark after the video is done playing.

“So first thing first, the bad news.” Of course she would start with the bad news. Amelia might be one of the most negative people I've ever met, or at least the most vulgar. “A few years after you left, details of what The Forum had been doing to the people outside Roagnark hit the public. There's been a rebellion and you know, city wide evacuation and stuff.” She looked towards the door, as if expecting her words to jinx her. She turned back. “So we're here, one last time, in Roagnark, to get Clover and as many civilians as we can out of the city before shit hits the fan.”

Another war. More fighting. A thought crept into the back of my mind. What was the point of my family and friends risking their lives to save the world if everyone just goes back to fighting each other the moment we turned our backs? Joan's effort to stabilize the effect of the Mist was negated by the first war. Our efforts at stopping Jason's E.M.P bomb was overwritten by this new rebellion. I wondered if humanity could only fight.

Amelia continued, “So um...this would probably be the last time we get to see you.” She turned the camera to the Cryo-Tube where I floated peacefully within. “We're leaving you stuff and gear, you know, in case of an emergency. I'll uh...let John explain all that.” She nodded off screen and got off the chair.

John slotted in, his hair having grown considerably longer since I last saw him, covering his eyes. It was a much rugged look than I remembered, and a new scar ran across his nose. “Hey grandfather. So good news first before I tell you about our little gift for you.” Of course, the opposite of his sister. Positive John. “Well, me and Lindsey are engaged.” The news brought a grin across my face. It was weird, finally being able to feel the pull of my facial muscle. “And I'm sure Milly's too embarrassed to tell you this, but she and Clover are married now. It's been kind of long distance. She's really happy we're getting Clover out of Roagnark today.” The grin got wider, and I felt my eyes trying to tear up, but the implants prevented any real crying from taking place.

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Amelia shouted, “Hey! I was going to tell him that!”

“No you weren't!” John shouted back. “You were going to stammer and drag and act like a tough little girl.”

“Don't make me shoot you!”

He returned his attention to the camera. “Anyway, Clover's doing some maintenance work on the Cryo-Tube right now, but she's afraid the machine might not last, even with her repairs, so we're leaving you a package behind the tube.” He turned the camera to the machine again. This time, Clover popped her head out from behind it and waved to me, pointing to a hard cased container behind. John turned the camera back to him. “I told her not to worry, but she just rambled on, as usual. Just in case she's right though, we've got a back-up plan for you in case we can't get to you in time. Or, you know, we're too old or dead,” he ended grimly.

Clover jumped into the shot, which was impossibly fast, given her previous position. Talking over John, and seemingly, even me, she said, “Here's the backup. In case anything should happen, we've left tools and wirings inside the emergency box. Just follow the instructions I've included there and wire up the main console to the original Cryo-Tube. You know, the one that's in front of the Forum Warehouse? Apparently, that one is still fully functioning. There's also cryogenic fluids inside the Warehouse itself. It's all in the instruction manual, so seriously, just follow that.”

Seeing everyone else gathered, Amelia and Lindsey jumped in, relegating John to a tiny corner at the bottom of the screen. Lindsey exclaimed, “Hey Milton! So as long as nothing happens to that statue Cryo-Tube, it should work fine, since the domes are all sealed.”

Amelia noted, “Hey, the camera's running out of battery.”

John exclaimed, “Didn't you charge it before we left home?”

“I told you, the charger's shot.”

“You shot the charger?”

“No! I'm just saying it's not working.”

Everyone turned to me, and after looking dumbstruck for a few seconds, all smiled to the camera.

“Don't fucking forget us, old man!”

“Bye Milton!”

“I'm bidding you farewell.”

“Have a good one at the end of the world, grandpa.”

The image suddenly blacked out as the battery died on cue. My left eye blinded by the darkened video playback software, I relied solely on the sight of my right to guide me. I followed the instructions of my grandchildren and headed around the Cryo-Tube. Right at the spot where Clover once stood was the supply box. I unclipped the metal strap that had rusted somewhat and opened it. Inside were two wires, coiled half a meter wide and as tall as the box, which was the height of my knuckle to my elbow. Unravelled, they could probably stretch for a mile each.

There were also some supplies. A few cans of food, a flask of water, a toolbox, an instruction manual as Clover had stated, and an industrial crank torch with a shoulder strap.

A loading bar appeared in my left eye and I assumed it was preparing the next video file. I separated all the supplies, and with my mechanical arm, began cranking the torch.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot up my elbow and I let out a curse through gritted teeth. I nearly passed out from the pain, the sting continuing even after the initial jab had subsided.

“Shit...” I was drooling a little from the pain and spat out a mouthful of saliva. “Mist Poisoning....” I deduced.

It had been awhile since I had thought of my condition. Mostly because of the lack of physical feelings, I had partially forgotten about it. But my previous worry was validated again when another round of pain erupted from my legs. I crumpled to the ground, bent over and spitting out groans. Then, the pain took a turn and rocketed up my spine.

My wretched screams echoed through the empty chamber for what felt like hours. By the time the pain subsided, I was sweating, my entire body aching in pain, and I once again lost feeling in my left arm. Lying sprawled across the floor, facing the ceiling, I took quick, pained breaths as I tried to calm myself down and to mentally will the pain away.

Then, colour flooded my left eye as the video began, and a different kind of pain, equally gut wrenching, gripped at my heart and pulled with the force of an elephant running from a mouse.

“Hey dad,” my daughter, Leila, all grown up, greeted me through the screen. I wondered which point of her life she was talking from until she said, “So um...mom's gone. Yeah...” I noticed her eyes red from crying. She was recording from the days after Joan passed away.

“The city got quite restless since mom passed away, so I'm not sure if this will be the last time we get to speak. You haven't met my husband yet, have you? Or maybe you will? In the future? Of all people, we should know more than anyone else how uncertain the future is,” she sighed, her eyes glittering as she recalled the past. “But yeah, my husband. Leonard Newton Smith. I think you would like him. And um...” she seemed to be trying to find words to say, but started tearing up again, no doubt thinking of her mother. It seemed she was at her limit, grieving for Joan and speaking to a frozen me. “I love you dad. And I miss you. And I hope one day our family can have some sort of happy ending, to make all this worthwhile.”

She reached for the camera and with a flick, the image disappeared from view.

“No...” I subconsciously let out, not wanting to lose sight of my beloved daughter.

I sat back up, the pain having subsided tremendously, aided by the soothing experience of hearing from my daughter again. I still could not feel my left arm, though it continued to move fine. I took a deep breath as another loading bar came into view. I looked to the container of wires, got to my feet, and prepared myself for survival. I had to get to the next Cryo-Tube before the day was up or the Mist Poisoning would kill me. After travelling all this way, with all that my family has sacrificed, I refused to keel over and die.