Lyra's POV
Silas vanished into the storage area and emerged carrying a sealed plastic bag. Inside rested the mourning moon, its petals displaying an unnatural purple shade so dark it appeared to absorb rather than catch the overhead lighting.
"Remember, this plant carries extreme toxicity," Silas warned me. His tone held gravity that demanded my full attention. Something in his manner suggested he believed I still possessed options and shouldn't choose poorly. "Exercise caution."
"I understand my actions," I replied firmly.
"We maintain a containment chamber for dangerous materials. You recall its location. That space is required for this work."
He motioned for me to accompany him, and I complied, carrying the protective suit beneath one arm while gripping the sealed bag with careful fingers. The flower remained motionless within its barrier, yet something wrong seemed to radiate from it nonetheless. An unnatural quality that set my nerves on edge.
