Joshua's Ultimate Choice

Joshua sat in his cell. The warden had already come by to retrieve his belongings. He knew he was going to lose the items, but he couldn't bear to part with them. They were the last things he had left of his family and his home. And now they were gone, just like everything else. In a few moments, the guards would lead him out of this hellhole, and he would be executed. His body would be tossed into a mass grave and never recovered. That's how the government did it these days. It was too expensive to bury or cremate bodies anymore, so they were just disposed of as garbage.

The door opened and two guards entered. It was time. As they led him out, Joshua passed himself in the hallway mirror for one final look at himself. He saw a tired face, with sunken eyes and thin lips where there used to be cheekbones. His hair was no longer black, but a dull grey. He started having hair loss problems years ago; probably due to stress, but he blamed it on the destruction of the environment outside of Atlasthe last city on Earthand exposure to all the chemicals used in the production process of his do-it-yourself solar panels he installed in his house years ago as an act of rebellion against the government.

The guards led him down a flight of stairs and out onto a small platform where the executioner stood waiting beside a large device that looked like an electric chair with robotic arms instead of leather straps. "This is your last chance to speak," said one of the guards as he turned Joshua around and grabbed his arms behind his back, placing them in shackles that were attached to a long pole that reached from floor to ceiling so that Joshua could not reach any part of it with his hands or feet even if he tried to jump up or kick out at it.

"I've said everything I have to say over the last few years," replied Joshua as one guard held him still while another tightened down the shackles until they bit into his wrists and ankles, leaving marks from where blood trailed down from. "You can kill me if you want, but I'll still be right." With that, a steel gate descended between him and the executioner who took hold of a lever and pulled it down slowly while an assistant flipped open a panel on top of the machine and inserted what looked like a pair of headphones into two slots labeled "brain" on each side of its headrest, then closed it again before pulling on another lever next to it which caused thick metal bands around each armrest to rapidly extend towards Joshua's arms and legs until they locked tightly around them with a loud clang as all four ends locked together forming an X shape with hooks that pierced through flesh and bone, firmly holding them in place without breaking anything vital so that there was no chance at escape once they were locked down properly.

The government’s priorities have been questioned by many citizens, who argue that spending on defense and surveillance has ballooned while more basic needs, such as clean drinking water, have been largely ignored. Furthermore, the decline in population outside of Atlas—which has fallen by 80% over the past decade—raises questions about the long-term sustainability of the nation and its policies. Despite these criticisms, supporters of the regime maintain that the strict measures imposed are necessary for security and order. As Joshua faces his final moments, he reflects on these issues and the uncertain future for humanity—if there is one at all. His laughter grows increasingly maniacal, a dark humor taking hold as he ponders the absurdity of it all.