"Be fruitful and multiply."
-Genesis 1:28
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Gaia, Novosibirsk ("New Siberia"). June 22nd 2038. 0700 hours.
Douyasha stirred in her sleep as a cold draft crept through the cracks of her prefabricated wooden home. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she remained motionless, her body heavy with fatigue. The blanket wrapped around her provided some warmth, but not nearly enough to banish the ever-present chill. With a sigh, she reached under her pillow, retrieving her scratched but functional cellphone. Its screen illuminated the small, cabin-like room, casting a faint glow on the frosted window.
The clock read 7:00 AM, yet the world outside her window remained as dark as midnight. She sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and pulled herself to her feet, her thick woolen socks muffling her steps. Peering out the window, she was greeted by the familiar sight of the storm. Snow swirled violently in the endless blizzard, and the howling winds rattled the wooden walls of their home. It had been this way since the day they arrived on Gaia-Novosibirsk, or "New Siberia," as her parents called it, was less a settlement and more a frozen prison.
The house, built with prefabricated wooden panels shipped through the portal, was cozy in its design, blending a rustic warmth with the harsh reality of their environment. Thick rugs covered the floors, and a small, ever-burning fireplace cast flickering shadows across the walls. Yet despite their efforts to make it feel like home, the biting cold seeped into every corner.
Douyasha sighed deeply. Compared to their old home in Nizhny Tagil, this place felt like a cruel joke. The excitement she had felt months ago, when her mother, Yeva, told her their family had been selected as part of the first wave of colonists, had long since evaporated. She still remembered how her parents had spoken of adventure and new beginnings, but Gaia's frozen wasteland offered little of either.
The moment Douyasha stepped through the portal, she had been struck by the sheer cold. The air was sharper than any winter she had experienced on Earth, and the unrelenting darkness gave her an immediate sense of unease. Scientists theorize that the strange climate on Northern Gaia is caused by the planet's unusual axial tilt. This causes the planet to experience permanent winter and little to no sunlight reaching the surface in certain regions.
This perpetual darkness rendered agriculture impossible. The colonists relied heavily on rations shipped from Earth, but with growing numbers of settlers, supplies ran out quickly. Desperation and hunger bred violence as communities fractured and scattered into isolated enclaves. Douyasha's family had found themselves in one such community, a settlement of 120 people, eking out a fragile existence in the snowbound wasteland.
Their settlement was fortunate, if one could call it that. Beneath the ice, they had discovered reserves of coal, which provided heat and electricity. The central generator ran continuously, powering homes and keeping water pipes from freezing. Even so, the cold was ever-present. Douyasha wore layer upon layer of clothing, but she could still feel the chill prickling her skin.
The hardships didn't end with the cold. A few days ago, the community's water pump had broken, killing the fragile hydroponic crops that had been their lifeline. Food and water were rationed to the bare minimum. Showers were a distant luxury, and meals consisted of dehydrated rations soaked in melted snow.
Her father, Mikhailovich, and her mother, had left days ago in search of food. Douyasha had pleaded with them not to go, terrified that they wouldn't return. The wasteland was an endless expanse of snow and ice, devoid of life-at least, that was what everyone believed.
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Project Gaia : The arrival of humanity
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