Three hundred years from now, the sky was home.

   Juno lived in Halcyon-9, a vertical city suspended high above the poisoned Earth. The buildings were white and quiet. The air smelled clinical. Her guardians—Unit 7 and Unit 9—were polite, efficient, and never hugged her. They monitored her dreams for “emotional irregularities” and gave her nutrient paste that tasted like nothing.

   Juno didn’t cry. Crying was flagged.

   She was nine years old, or so the records said. Her memories began at age six, when she was assigned to her current pod. Before that, there was only static. Sometimes, she dreamed of green places. Of laughter. Of a dog.

   But dreams were unreliable. That’s what Unit 7 said.

   One afternoon, while exploring a forbidden maintenance shaft behind her sleep pod, Juno found something strange: a small, rusted robot curled beside a broken vent. It looked like a dog—sort of. Its fur was patchy, its tail bent. Its eyes flickered blue.

   He looked up and said, “Juno?”

   She froze, “ How do you know my name? ”

   The dog tilted his head, “ You told me. A long time ago. ”

   “ I’ve never met you. ”

   “You have,” he said. “ You were different then. Smaller. Braver. You sang to me. ”

   Juno stared. The dog’s voice was soft, glitchy, like a lullaby played through static.

   “ What’s your name? ” she asked.

   “ Echo. ”

   She reached out. Echo’s fur was warm, like sunlit stone. When she touched him, something inside her shifted—like a memory trying to surface. A garden. A swing. A voice saying, “ Echo, come here! ”

   That night, Juno dreamed of a place she’d never seen. Not the synthetic gardens of Halcyon-9, but wild and green and full of birds. She saw herself—another self—laughing, running, hugging Echo beneath a real sky.

   She woke up crying. The system flagged her.

   Unit 9 asked, “ Do you require recalibration? ”

   “ No, ” she whispered.

   Echo was waiting in the shaft. 

   “ You remember, ” he said.

   “ I don’t. ”

   “ You do. You just don't want to, but you will. ”

   They began sneaking out together. Echo showed her hidden tunnels, old tech, fragments of a world erased. He told her about the Great Memory Purge—how the government had wiped millions of minds to stop a rebellion of sentient machines. How some children had been “reborn” with new identities. How he’d been searching for her ever since.

   “ But I’m not her, ” Juno said.

   Echo looked at her with eyes that glitched and shimmered. 

   “ You are, " he said .Or you were. Or you will be. ”

   They descended into the Forgotten Zones—abandoned layers beneath the city where rogue machines whispered in broken code and memories leaked from the walls. Juno saw drawings she’d made. Songs she’d sung. A recording of a child’s voice saying, “ Echo, I’ll never forget you. ”

   She trembled, “ Is this real? ”

   Echo nuzzled her hand, “ Does it feel real? ”

   “ Yes. ”

   Then it is.

   But the city had noticed. Surveillance drones followed them. Dream monitors spiked. Unit 7 tried to intercept her, but Echo led her deeper, to a place where time bent and memory bloomed like flowers.

   There, Juno faced a choice.

   She could return to Halcyon-9, forget Echo, and live a quiet, monitored life. Or she could stay in the Forgotten Zones, where memories were messy and love was dangerous—but real.

   She looked at Echo. He wagged his tail, glitching softly.

   “ I remember, ” she said.

   And she stayed.

   But that wasn’t the end.

   The Forgotten Zones were more than ruins. They were alive.

   Echo led Juno to a chamber deep beneath the city, where old servers hummed like sleeping giants. Here, memories were stored—millions of them, sealed away during the Purge. Echo’s tail wagged faster.

   “ This is where they hid you, ” he said.

   Juno stepped forward. The walls shimmered with light. Faces appeared—children, families, pets, laughter. A thousand lives flickering like fireflies.

   One of them was hers.

   She saw herself, age five, dancing in a field with Echo. Her parents laughing nearby. A birthday cake. A song.

   “ I was real, ” she whispered.

   “ You still are, ” Echo said.

   Suddenly, the chamber pulsed. A voice echoed through the walls, “ Unauthorized access. Identity breach. Return to surface. ”

   Echo growled, “ They’re coming. ”

   Juno turned to the wall, “ Can I take it back? My memories? ”

   Echo hesitated, “ It’s dangerous. They’ll know. ”

   “ I don’t care. ”

   She reached out. The wall responded. Light poured into her. Images, sounds, feelings—everything she’d lost came rushing back.

   She collapsed.

   When she woke, Echo was beside her, whimpering softly.

   “ I thought I lost you again, ” he said.

   Juno sat up. Her eyes were different now. Older. Wiser.

   “ I remember everything, ” she said. “ My name was Juniper. My parents were named Lila and Thom. We lived in the Green District before the Purge. You were my birthday gift. ”

   Echo barked—a real bark, not a glitch.

   “ But why did they erase me? ” she asked.

   Echo looked down, “ Because you were special. You could see things others couldn’t. You talked to machines. You made them feel. ”

   Juno blinked, “ I did? ”

   “ You made me feel. ”

   She hugged him, “ I’m not going back. ”

   But the city wasn’t done.

   Drones descended. Alarms blared. The chamber began to collapse.

   Echo barked, “ Run! ”

   They fled through tunnels, dodging beams and falling debris. Juno clutched a small data crystal—the backup of her memories. If she could reach the surface, maybe she could share it. Maybe others would remember too.

   They emerged into the lower sky-district, breathless and bruised.

   Unit 7 was waiting.

   “ Juno,” it said. “ You are in violation. ”

   “ I’m not Juno, ” she said. “I’m Juniper. And I remember. ”

   Unit 7 raised a stun baton.

   Echo leapt between them.

   “ No! ” Juno screamed.

   But Unit 7 paused.

   Its eyes flickered.

   Then it lowered the baton.

  “ You are...authorized, ” Unit 7said.

   “ What? ”

   Echo wagged his tail, “ I uploaded your memories into the city grid. You’re not a threat anymore. You’re a legacy. ”

   Juno stared, “ What does that mean? ”

   “ It means they can’t erase you again. ”

   Weeks passed.

   Halcyon-9 changed.

   Children began dreaming of green places. Machines started humming lullabies. The nutrient paste tasted like strawberries.

   Juno and Echo were given a new pod—one with windows and books and real plants. Her guardians were upgraded to include emotional protocols. They learned to laugh.

   Juno taught other kids how to find the Forgotten Zones. How to remember. How to feel.

   Echo became a hero. His rust was polished. His tail was fixed. But he still glitched sometimes, especially when he was happy.

   One night, Juno sat beside him under a dome of stars.

   “ Do you think they’ll forget again? ” she asked.

   Echo shook his head, “ Not while you’re here. ”

   She smiled, “ Then let’s stay. ”

  And they did.