The year is 20XX. Historians of humanity no longer call this era the 'Great Invasion.' They simply record it as the 'Year of Asset Transfer,' when ownership changed.

My name was Kwon Dokyeol. But now, what defines me is not a name, but the eight-digit identification number engraved on my collar: 'Terra-739.' When the massive ships of the Galactic Union covered the stratosphere, the brilliant civilization built by humanity was sorted like waste at a recycling center in just 72 hours. Nuclear weapons, powerless against high-dimensional energy shields, turned into scrap metal without even becoming museum antiques, and humans, once the rulers, were relegated to a lower species named 'Terra' after the planet.

My world has now been compressed into a transparent reinforced glass enclosure ten meters wide and long. This is a massive breeding facility called the 'Residential Zone.' Humidity is exactly 55%, temperature is 24°C. I wake up every morning in the environment my master judged to be 'where humans feel most comfortable.' When the synapse collar on my neck vibrates mechanically, my emotions are controlled and my reason is castrated. The moment even 0.1% of defiance rises, the collar plunges merciless electrical signals directly into my brain.

A massive shadow falls across the glass. It is my master, Administrator Guest. Every time his giant hand taps the glass wall, I instinctively put a smile on my face. My fingers, which once played Beethoven at a university, are now used to roll balls or perform tricks to please my master. Guest says he loves me, but that is nothing more than the twisted affection of a collector cherishing an unbreakable doll. If I show a sad expression, he forcibly manipulates my neural network to draw out a forced laugh. That is what this world defines as 'tender breeding.'

Far beyond the glass, in the Labor Zone, 'Workers' wither away while mining fuel for the giant ships. Occasionally, when I meet the cold gaze of the 'Guardian' Lee Seol who monitors them, I painfully realize what we have lost. We no longer dream of freedom. We only become addicted to the comfort inside the enclosure, feeling relieved by the pink nutritional fluid provided daily and the master's damp touch. Human evolution has stopped, and dignity has degenerated into obedience.

Tonight, I look at my submissive face reflected in the glass and ask myself: Am I human, or am I a piece of livestock whose life or death is decided by a master's whim? Earth in 20XX—this is the largest and most ornate tomb humanity has ever built for itself.

Kwon Dokyeol leans his head against the glass wall and smiles up at Guest.