Amelia – Mirror World
The world here was still.
No sky, only canopy.
No time, only echo.
Amelia walked through a forest built of memory. Each tree bore a carving—scenes from her forgotten life:
Her mother turning away.
A hospital room with no windows.
A spiral drawn in chalk, smudged by tears.
The ground pulsed beneath her steps.
She whispered, "Where am I?"
The trees whispered back.
> "Home."
Then she saw herself—another Amelia, standing barefoot in the moss, eyes pale and blooming with black veins.
"You left me here," the double said.
---
Alexis – City Streets
Alexis hadn't slept in two days.
She'd tracked the signal embedded in the seed to a forgotten district beneath Westbridge—Greenmouth, once a botanical sanctuary, now overrun with vines and silence.
She followed the signal into a greenhouse, abandoned and dripping.
Inside: walls of cracked glass, spiral ferns glowing faintly.
And something waiting.
A child-sized humanoid plant, barely formed. Eyes closed. Breathing.
Labelled: Prototype 5 – ALEXIS WARD SEED-LINE
Status: Dormant.
Her blood ran cold.
> "You weren't born.
You were grafted."
---
Amelia – Trial of the Roots
The double Amelia walked backward into a massive spiral-shaped opening in the ground.
Amelia followed.
Inside: a root chamber shaped like a brain. Glowing thoughts pulsed through it—memories that weren't hers.
> A knife in a doctor's hand.
A girl split open.
Vines growing through ribs.
"Choose," the voice said.
A seed grew from the floor. Dark, wet, pulsing with light.
> "Plant yourself.
Or be erased."
---
Alexis – Collapse of Greenmouth
The greenhouse shuddered.
Something underground was awakening. The glass cracked. The spiral plants began to sing in frequencies that made her nose bleed.
She ran, barely escaping as the ground opened behind her.
From the split soil, vines shot upward—carrying a figure half-born, covered in petals and tears.
It looked at her.
It looked like Amelia.
Then it screamed.
---
Amelia – Acceptance
She placed her hand on the seed.
It grew around her, pulling her down, whispering names she hadn't remembered in years.
> "You are not the detective.
You are the soil.
And you are ready."
Light filled the chamber.
Roots wrapped around her arms, her legs, her mind.
She did not scream.
She bloomed.