She watched with a sense of peacefulness as the great cats ran along the bottom of a rocky canyon, their red fur a vibrant contrast to the barren landscape.
As soon as the eldest of the three came to the end of the box canyon, he cleared the wall in a few quick bounds.
Reaching the top, he called out to her and all life, in a voice full of the joy of the living and the sorrow of those who remember.
Below the cats was a scene of peace: a city covered in life and full of green. Similar to, but very different from when this city had been been full of life and powered by ruinous green.
Pain shot through one of Gaia's old wounds, awakening her from her dream. She was tired, covered in scars and wounds that refused to heal. A dream is all it had been and all it would ever be.
To be without pain, at peace. If only such a dream could be real.
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