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The Gardener of Slow Light

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Mira decided the plants must be sick or confused, nothing more. She turned to fix them, to twist the vines back toward Veil's red glow. But the moment her fingers touched a leaf, the whole vine pulled away from her hand, leaning harder into the dark. Mira jerked back. Plants don't move like that. Not on their own.

Mira backed away and watched, holding very still. Slowly, every vine in the greenhouse stretched the same direction, like a crowd turning to look at a door. At the far end of the room, a thin beam of pale light was leaking in through a vent that should have been sealed. The plants weren't sick. They were pointing at the way out.

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Mira followed the pale beam to the vent and pulled the cover off. Cool air rushed out, and with it came a swarm of tiny glowing seeds, floating like fireflies. They drifted past her and settled on the soil, sprouting instantly into silver shoots. The garden was planting itself, and Mira just laughed, watching new life appear from nothing.

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