A Future Unseen

For years, they wandered. Scavengers, remnants of a shattered nation, drifting from ruin to ruin, searching for anything that could keep them alive a little longer. They walked the broken highways, through the skeletal remains of cities swallowed by nature, past the rusting carcasses of machines that once roared with life. But the world was unkind. Food was scarce. The winters were merciless. One by one, they fell—claimed by hunger, by sickness, by the violence of those just as desperate as them.

Their numbers thinned, their hope stretched thinner still. Some whispered that freedom was just a fantasy, something lost in the ashes of the past. Others refused to let the dream die, though it remained distant—a flickering light on a horizon they might never reach.

They told stories around dying fires, of a time before the war, before the cities crumbled and the streets became hunting grounds. They spoke of justice, of liberty, of a world where they could live without fear. But as the years passed, fewer were left to tell those stories.

The survivors still clung to the dream, even as their bodies grew weak, even as the wind howled through the empty buildings that once held life. Freedom remained just out of reach, a promise whispered in the dark—a future unseen, but one they still longed for.