We created our civilization from mile-high steel cities and micron biocomputers. No trees grew out of bare ground, and every pet and livestock were bred captive in laboratories. Each drop of our blood was contaminated with robots that engineered our metabolisms and regulated our hormones, commanding our thoughts and feelings. We faced seemingly insurmountable challenges, but we resolved them, generation by generation.
It took years, but we melted down the steel beams and panels until only dirt remained. As we did this, rain would come and we were not protected. We built huts from the artificial trees as the dirt replenished into soil and grass grew again. As we departed from electricity, our bodies fell ill, and we bled out the machines while facing dangers we’ve never encountered. Slowly, animals traveled back as weeds and bushes sprouted. Insects resurfaced after centuries of silent absence.
We finally freed ourselves when the last neon spotlight went dark. Then we found a beautiful resolution. The night sky became visible as the lights died off, and we first saw the moon, and then we saw stars. You were born under the first of those stars we found, son, and that is why you are named Polaris.