G+ Ark [Latest – Choice]

I radio the bridge. No answer. I check crew vitals: all sleeping, deeper than medical induction allows. Too deep.

The door doesn't open. It dissolves. Light spills out—not harsh, but golden-green, the color of spring at double-speed. And inside: no monster. No virus. Just a garden. Vines curling in impossible fractals, flowers that bloom and seed and bloom again in seconds, and at the center, a single fruit that looks like a human heart. g+ ark

I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't. But the hum has become a song now, and the song has a shape—a memory of forests that never existed, of rain that falls upward, of a sky with three suns. I touch the lock. I radio the bridge