Her child awaited her at home, too young to understand the burden Zera carried. Food rations were scarce, barely enough to survive. Every day was a battle against hunger and despair. But that was not the case for the Elite, who directed them to attack worlds with compositions similar to their own. The Elite reveled in abundance, while the rest scraped by on crumbs.
As Zera approached Earth, she couldn’t help but notice the planet’s vibrant greens and blues. It looked... alive. Her homeworld, once teeming with life, had long been stripped of its natural beauty. The stark contrast unsettled her. How could a civilization so technologically backward protect and sustain its world so well?
She landed on the outskirts of a residential area. The buildings were modest, surrounded by greenery. As she moved through the streets, her trained eye caught details: simple yet effective technology, cooperation between humans and AI, and most striking of all—smiles. Even the children laughed freely, a sight that seemed almost alien to her.
Inside one of the houses, Zera found what she was looking for. A modest kitchen stocked with food—fresh produce, grains, and unfamiliar packaged items. She began analyzing which foods might be compatible with her physiology, scanning labels and textures with her handheld device.
As she reached for a container, a voice startled her.
“Hello. Can I help you?”
Zera spun around, her hand instinctively going to her sidearm. Instead of a threat, she saw a young child standing in the doorway. Beside the child stood an AI teacher—a sleek, humanoid figure radiating calm authority.
The child’s wide eyes met hers. “You look different. Are you hungry?”
Zera froze. The simplicity of the question disarmed her. She hesitated before nodding.
“Why are you taking our food?” the AI teacher asked, its tone neutral yet inquisitive.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Zera replied, her voice sharper than she intended. “Your world... it has so much. Mine has nothing.”
The child tilted their head. “But why does your world have nothing?”
Zera hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Because those in power take everything. The rest of us fight over scraps.”
The AI’s voice softened. “Here, we believe in equality. Everyone contributes, and everyone receives what they need. It’s not perfect, but it works.”
“But how?” Zera’s voice cracked. “How can a world as small and underdeveloped as yours have more than us? We’re stronger, smarter... more advanced.”
The child stepped forward, holding out a piece of fruit. “Maybe because we care about each other. Do you want some?”
Zera stared at the offering, her hand trembling as she reached out. For the first time, she saw not weakness, but strength in their simplicity. As she took the fruit, she whispered, “Thank you.”
Outside the house, Zera paused to collect her thoughts. The encounter had shaken her. Her entire life had been shaped by a system that thrived on oppression and scarcity. Yet here, on this fragile, lesser planet, she had glimpsed a truth her world had long forgotten. Equality and compassion were not weaknesses; they were the foundation of resilience.
For the first time, Zera wondered if change was possible—not just for her, but for her child and for her people. Fighting Dorg alone would be doomed to failure before she could even voice her dissent. No one would dare support her, even symbolically, if she spoke out against the system. But on this planet, while speaking with the AI teacher, Zera suddenly had an idea—one that just might work.
To be continued...
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