19th February, Stellar Year 2924
Capaldi
Dylan parked his car beneath the towering crimson bark of the Red Trunk forest and stepped out into the amber-tinged twilight. The forest always felt older than memory, as though it had watched empires rise and fold back into dust.
By the time he reached the glass-paneled greenhouse of Old Shen, the last of the sun's rays had turned the curved roof into a prism of fading gold.
It had been a relentless day. Errands, obligations, voices demanding answers. Yet the moment he stepped inside the greenhouse, the world softened. The air carried the scent of damp soil and night-blooming floras.
The plants stood in elegant rows, some glowing faintly with bioluminescent veins, others whispering as their leaves brushed together. Dylan often felt that this place was less a greenhouse and more a cathedral of living things.
Old Shen's voice drifted through the warm air, steady and resonant.
"The land of the Blue Planet," he said,
