In the clearing, light hums through HUDs as Okumean children gather, their eyes wide with wonder. Artisans shape sacred wood into wings, homes, and skybridges — each carved line a memory passed hand to hand. Their fingers trace air currents as an elder speaks, not of machines but of birds — kin to the forest, keepers of the wind. He shows them how to read the air, how to fly not above the forest, but with it. Flight, they learn, is not escape. It is return. ⸻ #Afrofuturism #AtlasStudioHQ #Okumea