For eighty years, Pip meticulously pulled stubborn sprouts from the stone. But Pip had a secret "malfunction." Instead of incinerating the weeds, he moved them. In a forgotten corner of the lower docks, beneath a leaking steam pipe, Pip had built a sanctuary.
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In a city made of brass and steam, there lived a small automaton named Pip. Unlike the massive sentinels that guarded the gates or the sleek couriers that blurred through the streets, Pip was designed for one task: weeding the cracks in the pavement. For eighty years, Pip meticulously pulled stubborn sprouts