Avery, a small, curious child with wide, searching eyes, wanders the empty alleyways, their footsteps echoing against cold metal walls. Every day feels the same—machines hum, drones patrol overhead, and not a single leaf or bird can be found. In this world of rigid order and perfection, Avery feels a longing they can’t name, a hunger for something real.
Avery kneels in awe, reaching out a trembling hand to touch the soft leaf. The plant quivers at the contact, alive and impossibly delicate. Avery whispers, "How did you get here? Are you all alone too?" A sense of wonder fills their chest, and for the first time, hope flickers in their heart.
Avery[/@ch_1] returns, clutching a cup of water and a small light scavenged from the junkyard.]
Carefully, Avery pours a trickle of water at the plant’s base, shielding it from the chill with their coat. Every night, Avery tends to the plant, whispering stories and dreams. "You're the last of your kind, aren't you? I promise I'll keep you safe," they vow softly, watching the plant’s leaves unfurl, brighter each day.
Avery freezes as the drone emits a warning tone. Nearby, the ground vibrates as footsteps approach—Officer Ryall, clad in sleek armor, steps into view. "Unauthorized biological presence detected. Step away from the area," the officer commands, voice metallic and cold.
Avery[/@ch_1] shields the plant with their body. Neon reflections dance on their tear-streaked face as they look up at Officer Ryall.]
"Please, it's just a plant! It doesn't hurt anyone. It's beautiful—doesn’t the city need something alive?" The officer pauses, visor reflecting the tiny spark of green. "Regulations are clear. Biologicals are contaminants," they reply, reaching for the plant. Avery grips the sprout, heart pounding, torn between running and letting go.
Avery closes their eyes and whispers one last promise. "Even if you’re gone, I’ll remember you. I’ll remember what it felt like to hope," they say, releasing their hold. Officer Ryall gently uproots the plant, and the last living green vanishes into a sterile containment box. As the alley empties, Avery lingers, a single leaf clutched in their palm—a memory of life in a city of machines.
