Tick trudged along the cracked road. Its metal footsteps echoed against walls swallowed by ivy. Dust drifted through its sensors. The silence pressed so hard it hummed. Every doorway stood empty.
Tick paused at a slab of shattered concrete. A hair-thin green shoot pushed upward from the darkness. One jointed finger hovered near it, trembling. The breeze made Tick's whole chassis shiver. It wrapped its arms around the sprout like a shield.
For days Tick carried water in its dented tank, pouring each drop with careful precision. The sprout grew taller and broader. Its gears ground at the effort. Tick wiped oil from its faceplate.
Thunder split the sky. Green shoots everywhere bowed as a storm tore down hard. Rain pummeled the earth. Tick heard the wind screaming through the broken windows.
Tick dropped flat across the sprout. Rain hammered its back. Wind tugged at its limbs, holding the soil in place. When the storm ran out of breath, Tick rolled off in pieces, rusted joints aching.
A flash of gold caught Tick's eye. Where there was a green shoot, there was now a small flower. Tick stared at it with unblinking lenses. Dew rolled off one corner.
Tick let out a soft whirring hum that sounded like laughter. It sat beside the flower, one hand resting gently in the warm soil.
Bees arrived from nowhere and landed on golden petals. The world was still full of silence, but Tick didn't walk away anymore.
Tick watched the bees circle the bloom. Its hand rested in the soil. The flower leaned toward Tick's warm chest plate.
Tick leaned back. The world was still quiet, but it didn't feel empty anymore. The flower and the robot sat together in the green silence.