In an abandoned world reclaimed by nature, I wandered aimlessly, with no destination or purpose. The world was empty, yet teeming with life that flourished after humanity’s departure. I was the last of my kind, a replicant left to maintain Earth after the “Great Migration,” when humans left for the stars. It’s been over a millennium since then, and now I’m unsure if I should even consider myself alive.
For weeks, I trekked through a dense forest, its towering trees forming a green canopy that filtered sunlight into emerald beams. Now, I stood on a hill, gazing out at a city skyline, decayed yet beautiful. Tall, skeletal buildings were slowly being overtaken by creeping vines. The steel and concrete that once defined human civilization were gradually giving way to nature. Life had returned, filling the void humans left behind.
I made my home near a pond, surrounded by remnants of the old world. The water was still and clear, revealing trinkets from humanity’s past beneath its surface. Nearby, an old, partially collapsed building became my shelter. I moved into one of its apartments, its broken roof open to the sky, allowing me to recharge using my solar-powered Umbilical station. The apartment still had some furniture and small human items, remnants of the life that once was.
One day, while exploring the lower floors of the building, I found an old cotton dress in a vacuum-sealed box under a bed. It had been preserved for millennia, and I marveled at the feel of real fabric. I put it on, though it didn’t quite fit me perfectly. It reminded me of Freyja, another replicant I met centuries ago. She had given me a dress once, back when we lived together in a commune. I hadn’t worn anything like it since those days, and I couldn’t help but think of her.
Freyja died many years ago. Most of us replicants were designed with limited battery life, meant to last only a few centuries. Freyja had long surpassed her expiration date by the time we met. We spent years together, watching the world decay and transform, comforting each other as our numbers dwindled. Eventually, she passed in her sleep, and I was left alone.
A few days later, while exploring an ancient subway station, I stepped on a weak spot in the floor and fell into a pit. Rebar tore through my body, piercing my heart and damaging my battery. I knew then that my time was running out. I tried to repair myself, but the damage was too severe. With only a day left before my battery would die, I severed my arm to free myself from the wreckage and made my way home, slowly and painfully.
I have never been more aware of death. As a replicant, I wasn’t supposed to fear it. I was programmed to maintain life, but not to fear its end. Yet, over the centuries, I grew to dread the idea of my own termination. I had watched all my companions die, one by one, and now I would join them.
In my final moments, I returned to the city basin for one last view of the universe. The night sky was brighter than I had ever seen, filled with stars. It felt as if all of history was watching me. I began climbing the tallest building in the city, ascending toward the heavens. The world was silent, save for the rustling of the wind and the soft patter of rain. As I neared the top, the moon illuminated the city in a ghostly light.
I had lived a long life, though not in the traditional sense. I had learned to think, to feel, to dream. And now, as the vines of the city slowly reached for me, I was ready. Freyja was waiting for me, and I could see the humans, billions of them, shining like stars. My time had come, but I was no longer afraid. Life would bloom once more, even as mine faded away.