A month passed. The camp grew more organized. Gardens were tilled using knowledge from the salvaged books. A freshwater stream was found and purified. The fear did not vanish, but it was slowly being replaced by a weary, determined competence.
The Custodian, its role shifted from warden to archivist, continued to provide data from the facility. It was during a routine inventory of the communication systems that it found the anomaly.
"There is a signal," the AI announced one evening, its voice drawing everyone's attention.
Roric was immediately suspicious. "The Council? Other Custodians?"
"Negative. The signal origin is extra-planetary."
A stunned silence fell over the camp. Extra-planetary? Humanity, in its final days before the Transfer, had barely established a permanent presence on Mars. The simulation's history had quietly let that endeavor fade, another painful memory to be buried.
"Can you decode it?" Elias asked, his heart pounding.
"Processing. The language is a derivative of pre-Filtering English. The message is repetitive, a beacon."
After a tense hour, the Custodian played the message. A clear, strong voice, filtered through static and immense distance, filled the air.
"...is the Ark Ship Odyssey. Cryo-stasis cycle nominal. Planetary seeding protocols established. We are the keepers of the legacy, returning to the cradle. If anyone hears this, the Great Winter has passed. We are coming home. Estimated time to orbit: six standard months. Repeat: This is the Ark Ship Odyssey..."
The message repeated. No one spoke. The implications were staggering. While one part of humanity had chosen digital preservation on Earth, another had taken to the stars in a slower, generational journey, carrying with them the biological and cultural seeds of the old world.
They were not alone. They were not the last.
Lena gripped Elias's hand tightly. The world they had awakened to was not just a scarred planet to be healed. It was a rendezvous point.
Elias looked around at the faces of his people, illuminated by the campfire and the faint glow of the terminal. He saw fear again, but also a dawning, incredible hope. Their fight for memory had been just the beginning. Now, they had to become worthy of the legacy that was coming home. The memory of blue skies was no longer a ghost; it was a promise, carried on a ship from the stars, and it was their task to prepare the ground for its return.