The air inside Point Veert had changed.
It wasn't obvious at first — a faint sweetness that clung to the corridors, a misty shimmer that seemed to hang near the light fixtures. The students called it the bloom scent, claiming it came from the greenhouse nearby. But Ethan Callahan knew better.
He sat beside Seth in the dorm common room, papers spread across the table — botany notes, pollen sample slides, and their half-written research draft. Outside, the mountain wind carried a red dusk glow through the window screens.
"Ethan," Seth murmured, leaning forward. "Do you smell that again?"
Ethan nodded. "It's stronger tonight."
Seth rubbed his temples. His vision had started to blur lately — not completely, just edges of things, especially under moonlight. "I thought it was just the plants," he said quietly. "But it's… alive. I can hear it sometimes. Like the pollen's whispering."
Ethan's gaze lifted toward the vents near the ceiling. "You're not imagining it."
He pointed at a sealed jar on the table — a sample of the red dust collected from the lecture hall vents earlier that day. Under the lamp's light, the powder flickered faintly, breathing in rhythm with them.
"Jesus," Seth muttered. "That's not normal air circulation."
"No," Ethan said. "It's being released deliberately. A pattern every few hours — and only during night lectures."
Seth frowned. "But why?"
Before Ethan could answer, a sharp chime interrupted them — the dorm announcement system."Attention all exchange scholars. Tonight's practical session will be held in the Northern Greenhouse. Attendance is mandatory."
Seth stared at the speaker, jaw tightening. "Mandatory?"
Ethan's pulse quickened. "It's almost midnight."
The Northern Greenhouse stood at the edge of the forest, its glass walls glowing faint red in the dark. Rows of exotic flora pulsed under bioluminescent mist, and in the center, a massive flower — the Blood Lily hybrid — stood taller than a person.
Professor Fargrave's voice carried from near the plant, calm and rehearsed. "Welcome, students. Tonight, we will observe the physiological synchronization between flora and human cognition."
Ethan exchanged a glance with Seth.
"Cognition?" Seth whispered. "He's using people as test subjects."
The professor gestured for the group to form a circle around the flower. "Breathe deeply," he instructed. "The plant's aura synchronizes with your pulse. Do not resist it."
Ethan's mind raced. Aura synchronization… more like neurological infection.
The petals unfurled, releasing a wave of sweet, heavy air. Within seconds, several students' eyes dilated — blank and glassy. Their breathing synchronized, slow and mechanical.
Seth grabbed Ethan's arm. "It's the pollen," he hissed. "It's entering through respiration."
Fargrave's tone softened. "Don't fight it, Mr. Donovan. You'll see beauty."
Seth's vision blurred — the petals twisting, transforming into faces — dozens of them, each whispering his name. He gritted his teeth, veins under his eyes darkening.
"Ethan," he gasped, "I can hear them again."
Ethan's mind flashed to Jeena's warnings, her words echoing from their last call: "Trust the forest, not the people."
He reached into his jacket and crushed the small vial Jeena had given him months ago — a neutralizing compound she said might "break memory links."
The sharp scent of iodine filled the air. Seth stumbled back, coughing, the whispers fading to a dull hum.
Fargrave turned sharply, eyes narrowing. "Interference?"
Ethan stepped forward. "You're poisoning your students!"
Fargrave smiled faintly, unbothered. "Poison, Mr. Callahan? No. Evolution."
He gestured to the students, now standing perfectly still, eyes glowing faint red. "They've touched purity. They've breathed the world's first thinking flower."
The room temperature dropped. Seth's hands trembled — not from fear, but the curse that ran through him like a second pulse. His teeth clenched, and for a moment, his reflection in the glass flickered — his eyes gold, veins faintly glowing under the skin.
"Ethan," he whispered, "if I lose control—"
"You won't."
Ethan's gaze darted to the emergency sprinkler valve. He lunged forward, slammed the lever down — jets of sterile water erupted from the ceiling, soaking the pollen into the soil. The glow dimmed, the hypnotic haze breaking.
Several students collapsed, gasping, consciousness returning.
Fargrave's calm cracked for the first time. "You fool! Do you know what you've—"
Ethan's fist connected with the professor's jaw, cutting him off mid-sentence. Fargrave fell, dazed, blood trickling from his lip.
Seth stumbled beside him, coughing violently but grinning faintly. "That's… one way to end class."
But the ground beneath them pulsed again — faint tremors, like something moving under the roots. The hybrid's petals began to twitch, curling inward, drawing the soaked pollen back into itself.
Ethan grabbed Seth. "It's not dying."
"Then what's it doing?"
The flower convulsed — a wet, organic snap echoed through the greenhouse. One of the vines lashed out, slamming into a wall. A red mist sprayed from its core.
Seth's eyes widened. "It's evolving."
They ran — out through the side door as alarms blared. Behind them, the greenhouse lights flickered red, then black.
Outside, under the moonlight, the air was cold again — but the scent still lingered faintly, following them like breath on the back of their necks.
Seth leaned against the railing, catching his breath. "We can't stay here, Ethan."
Ethan nodded, looking up at the mountain. "Then we find where it's rooted."
Seth frowned. "You think the plant's base isn't here?"
"No," Ethan said, his eyes narrowing toward the dark ridge beyond the forest. "I think Point Veert's built on it."
Seth's gaze hardened. "You mean the college?"
"Yeah," Ethan murmured. "This place isn't teaching us about the Blood Lily."He looked back at the glowing horizon, the faint red mist curling into the sky."It is the Blood Lily."