Elias was a Watchman in Sector 7. His job was simple: patrol the perimeter of the Great Wall that separated the City of Light from the desolate Badlands, and report any breaches or anomalies.
For twenty years, he had seen nothing but dust and the occasional mutated jackal. The City thrived, safe within its automated defenses. The job was boring, essential, and entirely uneventful.
One night, his thermal sensors picked up a heat signature. Not animal, not machine. Human.
He went to the perimeter edge, weapon drawn. A boy, maybe ten years old, was struggling in the dusty sand of the Badlands, exhausted and starving, looking up at the impossible height of the wall.
Protocol dictated immediate apprehension and processing in the Outer Courts, where he would be deported back into the Badlands. No one from outside was allowed in. Ever.
Elias looked at the small, desperate face. He looked back at the cold, automated lights of the City of Light that valued security over humanity.
He disabled his camera feed for ten seconds. He lowered a small service ladder, just big enough for a child to scramble up.
"Quickly," he whispered, a transgression that could cost him his life.
The boy scrambled over the top. Elias sealed the ladder access and rebooted his camera feed, the data corrupted by the 'glitch'.
He pointed the boy toward the nearest residential sector entrance. "Go. Don't look back. You belong here now."
Elias returned to his post, his heart hammering in his chest. For the first time in twenty years, his watch wasn't boring. He had made a breach in the system, a single act of kindness that might cost him everything, but felt more vital than any protocol.
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