Chapter 20 - Chapter Twenty

The city stood complete—a shining testament to what could be achieved when vision met precision. It had risen in mere months, assembled by millions of Kevin's enhanced Gen‑3 Synths, each outfitted with Aperture-grade sandevistans and cybernetic efficiency. Now, the metropolis was empty of human life, yet alive with purpose: teachers pacing through classrooms, doctors administering empty wards, firefighters drumming in quiet stations, police patrolling clean, neon-trimmed boulevards, and sanitation crews polishing sidewalks that had never been walked upon—all of this performed by Synths awaiting the day real citizens arrived. Its architecture was a harmony of Googie's optimistic curves, the sleek minimalism of Frutiger Aero, the density of Night City without the grime, and Art Deco's bold geometry—a skyline that whispered promise rather than oppression. Beyond the urban core, Kevin's modified G.E.C.K. had coaxed the desert into an ecosystem: grasslands blending into forests, crystal-clear rivers, and wildlife scattered throughout—dogs trotting through alleyways, deer grazing at tree lines, cats and rats darting in shadows, and flocks of birds circling rooftops—each creature synthetic, designed to act, age, eat, and reproduce like their real-world counterparts, yet safely immune to the plagues that once ravaged human populations. That immunity was key—because Night City and other Californian settlements had enacted the Avian Extermination Act of 2063, wiping out all birds within 18 miles after deadly zoonotic outbreaks driven by avian vectors; it was illegal to have or feed birds, and most real wildlife had been systematically eliminated . In Kevin's city, however, that law didn't apply—the synthetic wildlife brought back life without threats, and eventually, people would grow accustomed to birds again, seeing them as symbols of recovery rather than danger. A select few were spy variants—Gen‑3 crows and small mammals outfitted with micro-cameras—hovering discreetly in parks and forests to safeguard blind spots without invading private spaces. Angela watched a synthetic crow glide above a landscaped plaza and asked if bringing birds back might unsettle people trained to hate them; Kevin only said, "They'll learn slowly that wings can mean safety." The city itself was hidden—built far from Night City without roads leading to it—its existence known only to Kevin, Angela, and the Synths keeping it ready. And as Kevin and Angela walked its silent streets—parks glistening with purified water, schools waiting with empty desks, broad avenues glowing under soft lights—Kevin said, "When people are ready to believe change is real, this place will be there," and Angela, watching the synthetic deer wander by, knew something rare had been built: not just a city, but a possibility.