Scene: The City That Grew Too Big
The hum in the earth intensified as the Eiffel Tower loomed above them, its steel frame groaning as though awakening from a long slumber. More structures followed—ancient ruins, modern skyscrapers, world-famous landmarks—all rising from the depths.
Ivy Mae gripped Jas’s arm. “This isn’t right. These places… they don’t belong here.”
Roman scanned the shifting landscape, his brow furrowed. “They’re relics. Pieces of history someone tried to bury.”
As the tremors subsided, a new structure began to emerge—smaller than the others, but eerily familiar. At first, it looked like an old neighborhood, the kind with tree-lined streets and corner shops. Ivy Mae squinted at a faded sign:
“Historic Vancouver Exhibit – The City That Grew Too Big.”
She felt her stomach tighten. The storefronts looked like ones she had passed a hundred times. A café with a bike rack out front, a bookstore, a dimly lit bar. And just beyond them, the white domed roof of the Vancouver Museum.
Jas took a step forward. “Wait a second… this is Kitsilano.”
But something was off. The shops looked too perfect, like a frozen version of a time that had already passed. As they walked through, the streetlights flickered, and the city around them began to shift. The cozy neighborhood started to dissolve—replaced by towering glass skyscrapers. The streets stretched upward, buildings swallowing the sky.
The sign changed. “Welcome to Future Vancouver – A Vision of Progress.”
Ivy Mae turned in a slow circle. “They turned the past into a museum. And then they erased it.”
Then, a soft flickering light caught her eye. An old information kiosk stood at the center of what used to be a park, its screen cracked but still faintly glowing. She hesitated, then reached out and tapped it.
The screen buzzed to life, and a figure materialized—a flickering hologram of a woman, dressed in faded jeans and a well-worn jacket. Her voice was familiar, though Ivy Mae couldn’t place it at first.
"I thought I knew this city," the hologram said, her voice layered with nostalgia and quiet grief. "But it was never really ours to keep. The land remembers more than the towers let on."
Jas took a sharp breath. “Ivy… she looks like you.”
The hologram turned, her gaze locking onto Ivy Mae. “You remind me of someone. Maybe we’re family.”
A chill ran through Ivy Mae. “Who are you?”
"Someone who lived here once. Twenty-five years in Kitsilano, watching it change. Watching everything get bought and sold—until there wasn’t room left for people like me." The hologram glanced up at the skyscrapers surrounding them. "This isn’t the first time it happened. Before me, it was the people of Sen̓áḵw.”
The screen behind the hologram shifted, showing a different Vancouver—one Ivy Mae had never seen before. A thriving village on the shores of False Creek. Smoke from longhouses curling into the sky. Children running along the beach.
Then fire. Then steamships. Then the forced removal.
“The Squamish people lived here long before it was called Vancouver,” the hologram continued. “They survived the Great Fire. Their women took to the water in canoes, singing and drumming, saving people trapped onshore. But when the city rebuilt, there wasn’t room for them anymore. They were pushed out, their homes burned, their land stolen. Even when they fought for it back, it was only a fraction of what they had.”
The screen flickered again—now showing the present-day Sen̓áḵw development. The glass towers rising, the promises of progress.
Ivy Mae swallowed hard. “But they got some of it back.”
The hologram nodded. “Some. But at what cost? When you’ve been denied something for so long, and they finally give a piece of it back, what choice do you have? You take what you can. You build what you can. But it’s never the same.”
The weight of it settled on Ivy Mae’s shoulders. She had always known cities changed. But she had never thought about who got left behind when they did.
The hologram flickered again, her image growing faint. “The land remembers,” she repeated softly. “And so should you.”
Then, with a final hum, the screen powered down. The hologram was gone.
Roman exhaled. “Well. That was… a lot.”
Jas shook their head. “I don’t think this is just a museum. I think it’s a warning.”
Ivy Mae looked around, at the towers, the landmarks, the city that had been buried and brought back. And for the first time, she wasn’t sure which version of Vancouver was real anymore.