You entered a subway car, not so full. You sat down on an empty seat and sighed. As you glanced at the opposite side of the seats, a wonted man caught your attention. He lethargically stared at his phone that sat on his stomach. His neck seemed dangerously crooked, and his back was severely bent, but his posture didn’t seem to bother him, as if he was born like that. You instantly cringed your face as your closed eyes engrave the moment you see the man. 

In 2042, you were in the subways of New Manhattan to get back to work after working home for a week. New York had a massive remodeling after the government realized the region was slowly wearing down. City roads were full of filth; unsanitary public facilities naturally deterred people from visiting unless it was for work; chaotic traffic repelled people. Manhattan, especially, needed improvement. The state executed the URP, or Ultimate Remodeling Plan, to revive the city like it was thirty years ago. The government contributed to upgrading panels, introducing air ventilation, and installing electric airbuses. They overhauled any facilities that could taint the new reputation Manhattan was aiming for. Benches were those white, futuristic colors mingled with blue LED light, traffic lights were modernized holograms, and General Police Robots (GPR) were on duty for the safety and enhanced city experience. Pitch black asphalt was replaced with a thin layer of solar panels, which supposedly cost a lot thirty years ago, so it was hard to implement it then. The subways were down for a week, which wasn’t unbearable because you could work online, but you missed the sound of the people reverberating the Earth, which excited you. When you first took the new subway, people seemed delighted by the aggressive government’s plan to revitalize Manhattan, and you couldn’t hide your smile as well. The screeching wheels were replaced with silent magnetic fields and the rusty silver subway cars, which were hard to tell their color from decades of corrosion, were classy black carbon fiber. You are astounded by the incredible transformation but also wondered those who cherish the antiquity of the city. It was a rare and transformative occasion. 

Not able to conceal the excitement, you walked into your office to start a fresh morning. You were an intern, just coming out of college, for statistical analysis in basketball operations. You enjoyed your job as an intern and were eager to learn. Society was ahead of you, and life was just getting started. Just when you were about to get a cup of coffee from the office kitchenette, you heard your co-workers making a noise full of disgust. You naturally headed to the hundred-inch TV that stood its place for decades where your co-workers were gathering. The news displayed a graphic image of a man in his 40s with a crooked back, except it was severe; he was facing down as if he was bowing. It was a shocking occasion, and you wondered what could have caused this to happen to the hapless man. There was a question on the headline of the news channel. It quoted, “Is this the new Covid-19?” The horrors of a pandemic from twenty years ago slightly grazed your memories as a doctor on the case explained. The CDC discovered the first case months ago before more people started to have symptoms, such as severely crooked spines, inoperable bent necks, and critical bowel obstructions. Doctors and pharmaceutical companies began to scrutinize what could have been causing such dreadful symptoms. As of now, five thousand people have died due to the unknown disease. Doctors called this disease C-100. “C” stood for crooked, and “100” meant a hundred pounds. The crooked back was as if a hundred pounds was sitting on the man’s neck, bending his spine downward, and the patient never lasted more than 100 excruciating days. 

You went back to your home, awestruck. You let your body free to the soft sentiment of the couch and opened a new tab on your MacBook, which looked different because it updated without your permission. You felt frustration, but mild anxiety soon overwhelmed your composure. Was C-100 a fiasco to worry about? You didn’t know. It certainly seemed like it since thousands have died. The google search came up in about a hundredth of a second, which surprised you. You didn’t realize technology was advanced enough to collect 2 billion data in about a hundredth of a second. Google pulled up an epidemic warning along with the name you saw in the news: C-100. You browsed through articles and news, but nothing else was more informative than the video on Youtube. The video seemed like it was recorded on a phone since the recorder was severely trembling. 

There was a man in the video who seemed like the husband of the recorder. In the kitchen, he was getting a toast from the toaster on a sunny morning and conversing with his wife. It was hard to hear the conversation, but it was his wife encouraging him to have a successful interview this afternoon for his new job. Their conversation did not seem serious until the man’s eyes were slowly turning red. He sharply halted his conversation and coughed as hard as he could as if a marble clogged his esophagus. His face turned pale. He seized with red bubbles leaking out of his mouth. Suddenly the man’s back snapped with a distinct sound and bent forward. The wife shrieked, and the man screeched out of agonizing pain. The video was too graphic to be online, you thought, but more importantly, it appalled you to your most surreptitious insecurities. Your instinct told you to believe that the video is computer-generated, but that doubt disappeared as you saw a CNN comment that doctors are examining this video as views were skyrocketing every second.  

Soon, trustworthy news sources published several articles. The articles claimed that doctors have found out that evolution led to this phenomenon. As computers, laptops, phones, and tablets became inseparable since the first uprising of the iPhone, people naturally bent their necks due to heavy heads. Injurious habits like working in front of computers for hours and being on phones during travels damaged the cervical vertebrae and spine for good. It was nearly impossible to fix the way it was medically since the bones weakened through decades of evolution. Physical therapy was futile, and there was nothing doctors could do but to alert people, to minimize technology usage, and straighten their postures as much as possible. A spine reinforcement with titanium was proposed but was soon rejected since the patient could die on the table from hours of surgery. The articles described that the neck and spine snapped as the disease spread through the spinal vertebrae. The corrosive cells that have developed through decades of deleterious postures continue to aggregate through mitosis. The ill-fluid, which contains the malicious cells, travels through the blood vein and sickens the whole body. After the snap, both arms would hang hopelessly, and the patient would experience shortness of breath. Patients would lose control over the back and cannot unbend it. Effects of claustrophobia kick in as unfathomable pressure compress the lungs. It is said to be as if you were stifled in a plastic bag. This whole process would happen within a minute. However, some patients experienced instant death due to irregular blood flow or severed nerves. At least this way, it was quick and merciful. In fact, for every C-100 patient, the first thing the hospital asks, mandated by the CDC, is if the patient wants to sign a DNR (do not resuscitate) form. Resuscitating may keep the patient alive for a few more days, but symptoms will continue to exacerbate, ultimately experiencing more pain. There were rare, bizarre symptoms and effects such as drooling burgundy blood horrendously out of the eyes and ears from abnormal blood flow or experiencing osteoporosis where bones are severely debilitated to the point of being incapable of activities. Too much to handle, you stop reading the article. You didn’t fully comprehend the medical aspects of this dreadful disease, but you did know that it was incurable and could happen to any of us at any time. It was a ticking time bomb.

You called your parents to ensure that they know about C-100. They were aware when you called them and were worried more for you than themselves. You told them they shouldn’t worry because older people, whose bones deteriorated for a longer time, were more vulnerable to C-100. C-100 was not a contagious virus but more of a phenomenon that just happens to trigger in 2042. Ten days after the official news reported the cases publicly, all C-100 patients died. The death rate of C-100 was a hundred percent, the most lethal in human history. Ranging from towns in rural areas to the United Nations Headquarters, people panicked and weren’t prepared for such a catastrophe. Your life was just getting better, you thought. Many people started to take precautionary actions in an attempt to survive. There were three actions the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) proposed to the public. The website’s link was sent to every citizen via messages with a “Global Pandemic” alert. The website had a relatively simple precautionary actions list: 

Avoid sitting down on chairs or bending for more than thirty minutes. This is mainly towards those forty or over since thoracic curves would be severely impaired. 
Avoid any strenuous activities that can impair your vertebrae. The activities include but are not limited to extreme sports, extensive labor, and stretching. 
Try to keep a linear posture at all times. Lean against the wall to maintain a linear posture. There should be a gap between the wall and your lumbar spine. 
There was also a section that had the number of cases displayed, updated every minute, along with visuals of what it looks like to have this irreversible disease. The CDC thought it would encourage people to be more self-aware. However, people found these three measures cumbersome and unnecessary since it was painful to unbend the warped backs. When you tried to lean against the wall, the pain was expected as you cautioned not to exaggerate your straight posture because C-100 might kick in at any time. That was the moment when you were appalled by how humans slowly normalized crookedness and didn’t mention straightening postures. You wondered when did humanity maintain such detrimental postures until the point it evolved to be life-threatening. 

The C-100 situation aggravated exponentially. The number of people with C-100 grew as the death rate remained a hundred percent. You were tentative about every movement you made because your spine or neck could snap any time, and you didn’t want to die. The horrors of the effects like paralysis or drooling blood haunted you even after days. However, despite the chaos, you continued to work at your office in New York. The company invested assets for the workers’ welfare and added an innovative fringe benefit. There was a new hospital in the building that all employees, including interns, could use whenever they felt the need. The adapted hospital bestowed an hour’s worth of rehabilitation for C-100 prevention that, according to your co-workers, worked, or at least gave a placebo effect. You were satisfied with the rehabilitation program and continued to feel energetic until a nurse told you that you might want to check with a general hospital rather than a clinic. You asked the nurse why he recommended you to do so, and he told you that you might have slight C-100 symptoms. 

You called the Bullet, a personalized airbus that was possibly the fastest transportation available in New York on your phone. You set the destination to New York general hospital, where most C-100 patients resided as their day on Earth shortened. The Bullet app asked if you wanted a bed Bullet for C-100 patients, and you didn’t even know that existed. With the bed option, you could lay down, and the Bullet would automatically adjust the speed to limit motion. You could’ve died if it wasn’t for the app. As you arrived near the hospital, the scenery proved your doubts wrong. The building was erected in the bottom of NoHo and reflected the shiny sun. The majestic building that stood tall made you twist your body and get a better look at it. The Bullet immediately detected your posture and rang a loud alarm. Alerted, you quickly lay down and waited patiently until your destination. As you entered the hospital in your Bullet, you were scanned by a body X-Ray and a scanner machine that looked like a long, dim tunnel. A voice told you to hold still for the scanner to scan your whole body. Ten seconds later, it informed you that you have C-100 and asked you to wait until a doctor arrives. Having time to mourn was an extravagance in the hospital since so many people are diagnosed, and trauma doctors simply didn’t have enough time. You were shocked that this is how you are going to end, but the hospital told you that you might have about 120 days to live. Many thoughts ran through your head. How did the hospital scan you and detect you have C-100? Where is the doctor to diagnose your disease? Does your family know? Are you really going to die in 120 days? Sweat was dripping from your chin, and drenched was your shirt. You could feel your pupils expanding. As you continued to panic, a voice from the scanner ceiling told that your symptoms were not as severe as other cases, but they could exacerbate quickly. 

You felt pressure towards your chest. After the entrance scan, it seemed like you were moved to an intensive care unit. There were oxygen-emitting units and loads of other patient beds. Everything happened in a blink, so you needed time to realize what was happening. Above your bed was an X-Ray scan that showed that one of your back’s spinal cords seemed eccentrically protruded. One of the doctors approached you, introducing his name. He told you that you have a common C-100 spinal symptom. All C-100 early-stage patients have a protruded spinal vertebra on their back, which was a signal. The doctor asked you whether you want extensive medical care, which you only get with a DNR signed, or return home and enjoy the rest of your life until you die. As the doctor finished his words, you hastily asked when a cure will be developed, and the answer that came back to you made you more desolate. 

Enjoy the rest of your life until you die. What he said gave you a fresh realization of what being truly free felt like. No responsibilities or struggle in life for sustainment, just you and your conscious wondering how space was created or the purpose of humanity. You remembered how you always wanted to visit Waikiki beach. This composed hope emerged deep down from your bucket list and inspired you to reject the intensive care as you shed a tear. Sunbathing under the sun with a peaceful azure sea layered in front of your eyes would not disappoint you from choosing to die of C-100. There, the golden sand gently embraces your toes as you feel the tickling hotness of the gleaming sun. The Hawaiian tropical drink is an exclusive delight that becomes a nice topping on top of your bliss. You told the doctor that you would enjoy the rest of your 120 days on Earth at Waikiki beach. Then, the emotionless doctor accompanied you to the hospital exit after making you sign all the necessary hospital forms. As you exit the hospital, you FullTimed your family. FullTime allowed you to holographically call someone and talk to them as if they are right next to you. Your mom hugged you as if you were a kid and all you could do was hug back. You could tell all the emotions running within just by hugging your mom. That is just how it worked, even through holograms. They knew that you contracted C-100 and wanted to make the most out of your time. After booking a flight to Hawaii, you meet your family at the airport, thrilled to see you after being separated for months. 

There was not much more you had other than family. They were all you had. At Waikiki, all you wanted to do was to sunbathe and appreciate the beauty of mother nature. The plane seats were dangerously vertical, so you tried to lower it as much as you can. While lowering the seat, you suddenly felt acute pain in your back and shortness of breath. You panicked as you felt pain you never felt before, but after inhaling an inhaler from the doctor, your pain faded momentarily. After hours, you finally arrived at the beach with your family. The airport, the hotel check-ins, the tropical palm trees, and the air of freedom all welcomed you for your final days. The beach, or any vacation spots in the world, was vacant as C-100 intensified worldwide. People were occupied with work; they never really cared to come to beaches. Hawaii didn’t really seem like Hawaii without its people, but the scenery and vibes were still there. Your family enjoyed the days off and were preparing last words, making the most out of the remaining time. 

You were one with the beach for about 100 days now. The sunlight shimmered down on you as waves lapping on the shore soothed your ears. There was nothing better than living right next to the beach. You were despondent that you had twenty days left to live, which was displayed on your inhaler. The inhaler had your days left and pain level displayed every time you breathed into it. Usually red, which indicated the worst pain level, today, your inhaler indicated green. Green was only when the pain was a level of three out of ten. Surprised, you contacted your doctor, but he didn’t pick up the phone. You told your family about this, but they thought it was the inhaler that was malfunctioning. You were supposed to feel acute pain in your back every once an hour, but the frequency decreased day after day. The symptoms diminishing were very subtle. That was utter ridiculousness, you thought, because there was no cure, but you also wondered what your life would be like if you were getting better. Is everything going to be “normal?” Back to your tedious intern days? You didn’t experience any severe crookedness or blood drooling out of your eyes. You called your doctor again to check on you remotely. He picked up this time and did a remote analysis. The doctor diagnosed that C-100 in your body was significantly reduced and that this is breaking news. You and your family rushed to the closest hospital in Hawaii, where your doctor sent your previous scans. 

As your family implored you to be safe, your case was rapidly reported to the chief of the hospital, then to CDC. This all happened in less than a minute. You went through precise scans that were free of charge, funded by the government and CDC for C-100 research. You were subjected as the first person ever to self-heal from C-100. Your phone vigorously buzzed as notifications piled up. You haven’t gotten that many notifications since high school. All of your friends texted you that your name was on the news. It was rapidly spread throughout the world as another doctor approached you, asking you if you were sunbathing for the past month. You indeed affirmed that you sunbathed by the Waikiki beach for the past hundred days. Then, dozens of research teams who rushed from the hospital entrance came by your side and ardently screamed at you. The same hundred-inch TV from your office displayed you on your bed in the hospital. You looked at yourself, looking at yourself, on the TV, wishing you could just live the rest of your life at the beach.