A fox. At least, that’s what the Elites had called it. It darted through a fallen arch of twisted metal, a burning flash of color in concrete dust.

They could have changed the world further, made it look like it did within their buildings of ancient knowledge. But, they said, it would be too much.

They were right.

The sight of the fox sent Sean’s thoughts into a spiral. Chills ran through him, his heart beating against his chest as he chased the fox across the artificial landscape. The Elites were compassionate. If the rest of the world had changed, his mind would have surely shattered.

The fox’s fur dazzled Sean’s eyes, flowing hot like the blood in his veins. He had cut himself many a gray day to see that shock of red. Cut himself and offered his life force to the Elites in their towers of glass and light.

The ones who prayed hard enough, blood flowing freely enough, were chosen. Chosen like Sean.

The artificial world flickered, a light whose power dimmed. The fox’s muzzle stretched, its legs warping for a split second before snapping back into place as it bounded over a heap of black and brown refuse.

Sean’s strength was running out. His weakness caused the simulation to struggle. He ground his teeth, forcing sluggish limbs over the debris of failed lives.

The fox stopped, peered back at the dirt-encrusted human behind it, and yipped.

Sean’s body tingled. Something awoke in his core. Something primal and long buried. He had never heard a more heavenly sound. Not even the sound of the battery pod closing around him could approach the voice of this earthbound angel.

Stolen novel; please report.

A slight breeze, its scent as fake as the plasticine soil, ruffled the fox’s fur.

He knew then. The one thing he needed before the last of him drained, merged, with the light of the City. He needed to touch this divine creature, this herald of another age.

Just once.

Perhaps by touch he could leave a bit of himself within it to run free, even if only in ones and zeroes.

Sean’s chest ached. Hollow, cold. The euphoria of being chosen fading with the last of his energy. Darkness edged in on his vision. He shoved it back, forcing one foot in front of the other.

Past derelict buildings, gaping sockets staring blindly into the brown sky. Over plastic rivers, bending without breaking under his weight. Time expanded and contracted as the world struggled to breathe.

The blood-red fox dashed always a few steps ahead, its yips calling Sean on. A flash of green on gray.

Sean’s legs gave out.

The fox whirled. Its tail curled around it.

Balanced on his knees, Sean reached out. So close. He couldn’t imagine what the tail felt like. His failing heart ached to know.

The acrid smell of rubber vanished. A scent Sean had never experienced before took its place as green streaks shot up from barren dirt. Sharp. Pungent. Clean. It cut deep into his core.

Electricity ran through his body. Tears sprung to his eyes. He didn’t want to die for the Elites. He didn’t want to power their city. Not anymore. He had been lost all his life, but now he knew the way. The angel before him spoke of the true world, and every fiber of his being cried out to hear it.

The green things rustled, waved around the fox, thick emerald hair spattered with flame.

Sean’s fingers stretched as far as they could, almost touching the glistening black nose of the fox in its nest of viridian.

His hand fell to the dust.

With its last beat, his heart called out to a place eaten long ago by a beast of metal, plastic, glass, and light.