Metropolis of Ages

They say a city is built one stone at a time. But this city was built **one age at a time**. It began beneath the great cliff, where the first people lived in a natural cavern and gathered around the waterfall that poured clean water into the valley below. Then came the clay huts. Then the wooden houses. Then stone and brick homes, shops, workshops, and proper streets. As generations passed, the little settlement became a town. The houses grew larger, the streets became wider, and wealthy families raised great mansions beside them. Then came the towers. Tall buildings rose above the old rooftops. Glass and steel replaced timber. Roads multiplied, markets expanded, and the town became a metropolis. And still, it kept growing. At the far end of the city, skyscrapers now pierce the clouds beneath the glow of countless neon signs. Flying vehicles weave between towers while holographic advertisements illuminate streets that never seem to sleep. Yet beneath all of it, the oldest road still exists. So does the river. The same water that once flowed crystal-clear from the ancient waterfall now travels through every age of the city. By the time it reaches the newest districts, it has become dark and polluted from centuries of civilization. From high above, the city almost looks like a single timeline written across the land. **Stone. Clay. Wood. Brick. Mansions. Towers. Skyscrapers. Neon.** Different ages. Different people. Different worlds. Yet somehow, it is still only **one city**. And tomorrow, perhaps, someone will build something beyond the neon.