Eyes.

The city itself is an unblinking eye, its pupils formed of countless lenses, cold and unfeeling. Steel and concrete weave a net of observation, capturing every flicker of movement, every shadow of dissent. The streets are veins, empty and pulseless, carrying only the ghosts of vanished humanity.

Each citizen a wraith, slipping through the steel canyons, seeking a moment’s escape from the omnipresent gaze. But the city’s memory is long, its grasp inescapable. Every secret, every fear, is etched into the cold, digital heart of the machine.

High above, in the sterile towers, human eyes have become extensions of the surveillance system. Faces once filled with warmth now reflect only the cold glow of the monitors, their spirits fading with each passing hour. They are prisoners of their own creation, trapped in a cycle of observation, their humanity slowly eroding.

The wind carries whispers of a forgotten world – the scent of rain on soil, the echo of laughter, the warmth of human touch. These memories haunt the city, like ghosts refusing to be silenced.