The towering smokestacks of the sulfate combustion plant pierced the sky, emitting thick, billowing smoke as usual. The red warning light at its top flashed, reflecting alongside the sparse stars on the transparent dome, creating several bright spots.

Rumor has it that once Gaia-forming is complete, the curtain dome will come down, and we'll be able to gaze at the night sky directly from the surface of the red planet. Of course, by then, it won't be a red planet anymore, and besides, I won't live that long.

After years of debate, a referendum overwhelmingly decided to proceed with the irreversible Gaia-forming project, permanently transforming Ares into what people envisioned. Well, at least what most people envisioned.

"Sorry!" The sudden noise snapped me out of my thoughts. A tall moose entered the elevator, his massive antlers clashing with those of several red deer, producing a series of clattering sounds. As he hastily turned to apologize, more collisions ensued, and I could feel the air pressure from his antlers brushing past mine.

Silent reproach filled the space, and the embarrassed moose's ear tips turned a deep red. The situation grew unbearably awkward when the elevator issued an overload warning. He could only apologize again and exit the elevator.

"Big species should be more considerate and not inconvenience others!"

"Yeah, what's he thinking, squeezing into a crowded elevator?"

"Honestly, more and more people are losing their manners these days."

Murmurs of discontent rippled through the enclosed space. I rubbed the spot on my forehead where I had been pushed against the handrail by the red deer in front of me, then turned my gaze back to the giant smokestack beyond the dome.

What would the stars look like without the high-polymer barrier of the dome?



This area had sparser crowds and a more relaxed pace, but it was still crowded enough that if you didn't keep up, you'd get trampled.

As if compensating for the streetlights that had been out for who knows how many years, vibrant neon signs flickered intermittently, adding a touch of tackiness to the already cheap atmosphere.

Bars, nightclubs, hotels. Every sizable city had a place like this—the dark side of the world—where those who could afford it revealed their true selves and indulged in all the needs not acknowledged by surface society.

Love retailers, dressed in bright and avant-garde outfits, leaned against graffiti-covered walls, extending subtle yet clear invitations to passersby. According to some agreement involving too much violence, different species of thugs stood at major street corners, each wearing similar black leather jackets, selling undoubtedly suspect wares—from joy, sorrow, or numbness to family heirlooms pawned in times of crisis—all at a bargain, no deception involved. Meanwhile, in the alleys where even the neon lights couldn't reach, various liquids—possibly red, white, or yellow—splashed against the mottled walls, covering previous sticky stains.

My destination was much simpler, and technically speaking, this colorful street scene wasn't my world; we just shared a similar habitat. But isn't that the definition of fellow creatures?

As I walked, I noticed something off—people were carefully avoiding a small area, as if deliberately steering clear of something—a european fallow deer lay on the street, belly down, eyes partially closed and unfocused, with his tongue hanging out. Passersby maintained a respectful distance, passing by as if some invisible barrier kept them away.

It was interesting to see that even in this haven of magnified desires, the marks of societal norms were still evident on our souls.

They say herbivores are like this, not wanting to stand out because it makes them more noticeable. Just last month, a red deer collapsed in the Central station hall and was left there until it started to rot before the management cleaned it up.

I hesitated for a few seconds, sighed, and pulled out my personal terminal to notify the medical unit. But I knew that public emergency services often refused to enter this area—"brought it on themselves," I imagine they justified.

I glanced back at the european fallow deer on the ground, wondering if I should do more. Before I could reach any conclusion, the crowd behind me pushed me forward, and the deer vanished from my sight.

I sighed again, shook my head, and admitted that I couldn't do anything for the deer. There was no point in being hypocritical and looking for trouble. After all, I didn't want to get myself into more trouble.