The Last Human on Mars Writes a Blog

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Posted by: Commander Elara Voss

Date: Sol 849

Location: Ares Habitat, Utopia Planitia, Mars

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Hey Earth, if you're still out there…

It’s been 849 sols since I arrived on Mars with Crew Aurora-7.

It’s been 117 sols since I last heard from Mission Control.

And it’s been exactly **3 hours since I realized I’m officially out of peanut butter.**

Life’s rough, huh?

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### 🚀 How I Became the Last Human on Mars

Our mission was simple: colonize Mars, test sustainable systems, and prove humanity could survive beyond Earth. We were seven strong, full of hope, caffeine, and way too many spreadsheets. Things went fine until the storm—**a solar flare that fried comms and half our habitat systems.**

We lost two in the first week.

Three more vanished in the dust while trying to reach the backup comm tower.

My last crewmate, Kai, died on Sol 783. I haven’t moved his favorite hoodie from the chair. Sometimes, I talk to it. Judge me later.

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### 📡 Why Blog?

Because talking to myself out loud was starting to feel like a weird reality show.

Because I don’t know if anyone’s reading this—but it gives me purpose.

Because the thought that someone, someday, might recover this data and *know we were here*… helps.

Also, because apparently the blog auto-uploads whenever the satellite signal flares up. So, if you're getting this: **hello, Earth. I haven’t given up.**

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### 🪐 A Typical Day on a Dead Planet

- **Morning:** Check air filtration. Yell at the AI assistant for burning my synthetic eggs again.

- **Midday:** Inventory rations. Argue with myself over whether ketchup is a soup.

- **Evening:** Watch Earth rise through the east-facing dome. Try not to cry.

Sometimes, I suit up and go for walks across the dunes. Mars is silent. Peaceful. Terrifying. Beautiful. Like walking across a memory of a place you’ve never known.

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### 📬 To the Next Person Who Finds This

If you’re human: welcome. I hope the habitat held up. I hope you brought peanut butter.

If you’re alien: hey, what’s up. Please don’t eat me.

If you’re me—older, somehow rescued—reading this years later on Earth… I hope you remember how strong you were here. How you kept going.

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**Elara out.**

Still breathing. Still blogging.

Because even when the world leaves you behind, sometimes your words echo farther than your voice ever could.

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Let me know if you want this turned into a podcast script, visualized as a journal entry, or expanded into a longer short story!