Kente

Episode 1: The Scavenger's AwakeningKente awoke with a start, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The city's cacophony was a distant hum, filtering through the thin walls of his makeshift shelter. He was drenched in sweat, his heart pounding like a trapped bird. The dream, as vivid as reality, was still etched on his mind.He saw himself as a child, a small figure lost in the labyrinthine corridors of the orphanage. The air was thick with the scent of fear and decay. And then there was her, Anya, a wisp of a girl with eyes that held the universe. But the image that haunted him most was the inferno, the orphanage consumed by flames, and Anya standing amidst the ruins, a figure of both terror and power.It was a nightmare he'd had countless times, a constant reminder of the horrors he'd witnessed. He pulled the thin blanket tighter around him, seeking solace in its familiar warmth. The world outside was harsh, but the demons within were even more terrifying.With a heavy sigh, Kente swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Another day, another battle. He had to scavenge, to survive. But the dream, the memory, was a weight on his shoulders, a constant pull towards the unknown.The city was a monstrous beast, and Kente was its most tenacious scavenger. Dawn painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, but for him, it marked the beginning of another arduous day. The world was still asleep, but Kente was already awake, his senses honed to the rhythm of the city's discarded treasures.His domain was a sprawling labyrinth of metal and refuse, a testament to human consumption. He moved with the silent efficiency of a shadow, his eyes scanning the terrain for anything that could be salvaged. A discarded bicycle frame, a broken television, a pile of tangled copper wires—all were potential goldmines in his world.His hands were calloused, a testament to years of labor. Each piece of metal he salvaged was a victory, a small triumph over the city's relentless cycle of consumption and disposal. The weight of his findings grew with each passing hour, a tangible measure of his efforts.By midday, the sun beat down mercilessly. Kente's body ached, but his spirit remained unbroken. He sought refuge in a small, dilapidated shed, a sanctuary amidst the chaos. Inside, he sorted his findings, separating the valuable from the worthless. Copper, aluminum, and steel were his currency, his ticket to survival.With the day waning, Kente made his way to the scrapyard. The owner, a burly man named Rashid, was a familiar figure in Kente's world. A gruff exterior hid a surprisingly fair mind. He inspected Kente's haul with a critical eye, his experienced hands running over the metal."Not bad, kid," Rashid grunted, tossing a bundle of crumpled banknotes at Kente. The money was meager, but it was enough. It was survival.As Kente pocketed the money, he looked up at the sky. The sun was beginning its descent, casting long shadows over the city. Tomorrow was another day, another hunt. But in Kente's heart, a flicker of hope ignited. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was more to life than scavenging.