Transplant Horror: Human Organs Up for Sale: Inside the Human Organ Black Market

I never asked for immortality. I only wanted to heal.
In 2065, the world had become a single heartbeat, thumping under the iron rule of the Supreme Leader-an autocrat who called himself the Architect. He promised salvation from Permafrost X, from famine, from war. All I saw was a nightmare.

Under One World Government, every man, woman, and child was forced to accept the Implant: a subdermal chip fused to your identity, your medical history, your very worth. No Implant meant you were "unregistered"-no food, no shelter, no compassion. Worse still, the Architect's decree was absolute: harvest the bodies of the unregistered. Sell their organs to the privileged. Replace your soul with a serial number, or die.

I refused. I tore off my registration bands and vanished into the city's underbelly, hunted by the Architect's enforcers-by thought police droids and predator drones that swept the streets like locusts. Every night I lived on borrowed time, every breath a gamble. Until a rumor reached me: a Portal-an ancient tear in spacetime hidden beneath the ruins of the Old Hospital. It would send me back to the late 2040s, before the Implant, before the Architect's rise.

I risked everything for that Portal. I stepped through and tumbled into darkness. When I woke, the world was different-strange, early digital, rife with possibilities. A hologram flickered before me: Dr. K. W. Blake, one of the architects of tomorrow's horrors. She beckoned me closer and spoke in distorted static.

"Come," she whispered. "See what they did to us."

And so began my journey into the black market of human organs-the underworld that would one day seed the Architect's empire of eternal servitude.