The city was slowing being reclaimed. Most people did not realise it, but what they thought of as a modern city was really a collection of crumbling infrastructure and pipes of transported light, all very vulnerable. Try as they might, they could never be rid of, or control, the ecosystems living just out of sight of the city. Flora and fungi evolving and adapting and surviving on a timescale so massive that it seemed like they made no move at all. But they did, on so many levels, work to reclaim the city. From the strikingly obvious organic graffiti that spread its tendrils along the walls of the buildings, to nature itself as a memetic virus, infecting the receptive with its many virtues and turning them into disciples. Just under the surface of the city, the plants and the mushrooms did what they were made to do, they survived and evolved. Concrete and steel might seem strong and unyielding, but from the moment it was created, it stopped evolving. Nature never stopped, and just below the surface, plants were slowly growing upwards, forever reaching for the sun. And given enough time, concrete would do nothing to stop it.

Mankind had pesticides and concrete and pollution, but nature had time. In the end the tools of mankind did more harm to themselves, than nature did.

When the crisis hit, and the money for maintenance ran out, nature started taking over, and it never stopped. Most people would never realise it, but their infrastructure and light pipes were so very vulnerable, and in the end it was only another surface to grown on, as nature reclaimed the city