City-73 or Area-73, as Avalon renamed it — had a rhythm of its own.A rhythm built from sirens, metal, and exhaustion.
But inside Apartment 404, before dawn cracked the toxic sky, there was something rare:
Quiet.
A thin blue light seeped through the cracked blinds, illuminating the peeling wallpaper and the small kitchen table scarred with years of use. A pot simmered gently on the stove, releasing the faint smell of broth — real broth, not powdered substitute. It filled the room like a memory of a life long gone.
Rey Deskan shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes, hair sticking up like a startled bird.
"Morning, Mom…"
His mother stood by the stove, sleeves rolled up, her hair tied back in a loose knot. She looked older than she really was — years of night shifts at the oxygen plant had carved shadows beneath her eyes. But when she turned to Rey, her exhaustion melted into a soft smile.
"Good morning, sweetheart. Sit. Before it gets cold."
Rey obeyed instantly.He always did.She was the anchor of his small, fragile world.
A steaming bowl was placed in front of him.
"It's the good kind today," she said proudly. "Zen gave me some credits. Said he… uh… did extra work."
Rey's smile dimmed slightly.He wasn't dumb.Zen's extra work always came with bruises.
But his mother gently tapped his bowl. "Eat. Before it cools."
He did — quietly, gratefully. The broth warmed him from the inside, chasing away the metallic taste of the city. His mother sat across from him, silent for a moment, watching him with something between pride and fear.
"Rey… you're growing."She tried to laugh. "Slowly, but still growing."
He giggled. "I water my tree every day. Maybe it helps me grow too."
His mother's gaze softened — painfully so.
"That tree… I don't know how you keep it alive here. Most plants die after a week."
Rey shrugged. "Maybe it likes me."
"Of course it does."
For a moment, the world felt gentle.
Later — on the way to school
The hallway of the complex was dim, lit by flickering bulbs. Grafitti covered the walls — slogans from Eclipse protests mixed with gang tags. A drone hummed overhead, scanning IDs, ignoring Rey because of his school permit, hesitating slightly on his mother before letting her pass.
She squeezed his shoulder. "Don't look at it. Keep walking."
He nodded.
Outside, the street was already alive with noise: steel carts rattling, vendors selling nutrient packs, police mechs towering on corners. Rey walked close to his mother, his small hand clutching hers tightly.
"Mom?" he whispered.
"Yes?"
"Why does everyone say Avalon saved us?"
She hesitated.A dangerous question.
"Because that's what they teach people," she answered gently. "But saving is not the same as controlling."
Rey didn't fully understand, but he felt the weight in her voice.
"Will they ever stop controlling everything?"
She knelt and cupped his cheeks.
"If people stop being afraid," she whispered, "then yes."
Rey thought back to his tree.It grew even in darkness.Maybe people could too.
School
The building was gray concrete, old military architecture repurposed. Kids gathered in clusters — tired, hungry, loud. Some wore torn uniforms, others none. Avalon didn't care about standards here.
Rey placed his hand on his mother's.
"You'll be okay today?"
She kissed his forehead. "Yes. Don't worry about me. Worry about your math test."
He stuck out his tongue. "I hate math."
She laughed — a rare, delicate sound.
"I know. But try."
He hugged her tightly.Longer than usual.Something inside him felt uneasy, though he didn't know why.
When she walked away, Rey watched her go until the crowd swallowed her. Only then did he enter the school.
Classroom
Rey was quiet, the kid who doodled plants in his notebook and avoided trouble. The teacher droned about Avalon's "great reconstruction efforts" after World War III — half propaganda, half erasure of truth.
Rey blinked out the noise and drew his little tree instead.
His friend Mila leaned over. "You and that tree again?"
"It's special," Rey whispered.
She smirked. "Everything's special to you."
He blushed.
After School — Returning Home
Rey climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to see his tree. He unlocked the apartment door and stepped inside—
Silence.
Not the peaceful kind from the morning.A heavy, suffocating silence.
"Mom?"
No answer.
He slipped off his shoes and walked to the small living room. The window rattled from the wind. A bowl still sat in the sink from breakfast. Everything felt frozen.
Rey placed his bag down and moved to the tiny balcony where his tree sat in its clay pot.
But when he reached it, he froze.
A single leaf had fallen.
He knelt and gently touched the soil.
"Were you lonely?" he whispered.
The tree didn't answer, of course, but Rey felt calm again. He watered it carefully, humming softly — a tune his mother used to sing before they both started working too much.
Minutes later, he heard the front door unlock.
"Mom!"
She stepped in, shoulders slumped, uniform dirty with factory dust. She forced a smile.
"Sorry, sweetheart. Long shift."
Rey ran to hug her, burying his face into her jacket despite the chemical smell.
"You're safe," he whispered.
She stiffened — surprised by his intensity — then held him close.
"Yes. I'm here."
She stroked his hair, unconsciously trembling.
If only Rey knew what she had seen that day:
Extra military drones.Avalon inspectors.A sudden lockdown of oxygen shipments.Whispers that the "old war signals" were returning.
But she said none of this.
Children deserved moments of peace.Moments like this.
Dinner
She cooked a simple meal — rice and canned vegetables. Rey talked about school, Mila teasing him, his math test disaster.
"You'll get better," she assured.
"Can I show you my tree? One leaf fell."
She smiled softly. "Show me."
On the balcony, she placed a gentle hand on the sapling.
"It's stronger than it looks."
"So am I," Rey said proudly.
She kissed his forehead. "Yes. You are."
Before Sleep
Rey lay in bed, blanket up to his chin. His mother sat beside him, brushing his hair with her fingers.
"Mom…?" he whispered.
"Yes, love?"
"If something bad happened… you'd tell me, right?"
Her hand froze for a second.
Then she smiled — a painful, brave smile.
"I would never let anything take you away from me."
Rey believed her.
He didn't know that fate, Avalon, and the Genesis Stones had already chosen him long before he was born.
He didn't know this would be the last peaceful night of his childhood.
But for now…
He slept softly.
And outside, in the darkness of Area-73, Avalon drones circled the rooftops — hunting a signal they finally rediscovered