[Jessamy's Greenhouse]
The scent of damp earth and blooming flowers fills the air as Jessamy crouches in the soil, her fingers deftly working to prune the delicate vines of a silver ivy sprout. The twin suns of Causarimorvarid cast a golden hue over the garden, illuminating the carefully cultivated rows of alien flora—each plant a piece of the universe, thriving together in a carefully maintained balance.
Or at least, that's how it should be.
A sharp crack echoes through the garden, followed by a rustling far too loud to be the wind. Jessamy stiffens, her eyes darting toward the outer edge of her sanctuary. Where there should be open pathways and organized planting beds, she sees only a wall of tangled vines, thick and gnarled, creeping across the ground at an alarming rate.
She rises slowly, hearts hammering.
That wasn't there yesterday.
She strides forward, reaching out to touch one of the pulsing green tendrils. The moment her fingers brush the surface, a faint hum vibrates through her palm—an unnatural energy signature, wrong in a way she can't quite place. Jessamy frowns, narrowing her eyes. She knows every plant in this garden and every species; it's a carefully curated ecosystem.
These vines? They don't belong.
She grabs her scanner from her apron pocket and flicks it on, watching as the readings scroll rapidly across the screen.
Energy siphoning detected. Root structure expanding at exponential rates. Biotic interference with surrounding flora.
Jessamy's stomach drops.
The plants aren't just spreading. They're feeding—draining the natural energy of her garden like a parasite.
A burst of static crackles through the small comm device in her ear, distorting the usual steady hum of L.A.S.S.'s secure frequency.
Jessamy frowns, tapping the earpiece, "L.A.S.S. Control, this is Jessamy. I'm experiencing some kind of interference. Can you..."
A sudden, high-pitched whine erupts from the device, making her wince. The signal cuts out completely.
Jessamy whirls around to look at the invasive growth—only to see it has already spread another few feet in the time she turned away. She backs away, eyes darting between the vines as they writhe across the soil, creeping toward the delicate garden beds she's spent the last year cultivating.
She presses a hand to her ear, trying the comms again, "Control, do you copy?"
Nothing. Just static.
Her grip tightens around the scanner.
"Brilliant," she mutters, "Alright. Fine. No problem. Just a rapidly expanding, unknown invasive species siphoning energy from everything in sight. I can handle this."
She forces herself to breathe, shifting into problem-solving mode. The plants are feeding off energy. That means heat, light, organic compounds—anything it can pull from its surroundings. If she can interrupt that process, maybe she can slow it down until she figures out where it came from.
Jessamy rushes to her storage shed, throwing open the doors. Shelves of tools and equipment rattle as she grabs what she needs—a containment field generator she once used for experimental seed growth, and a few vials of nutrient inhibitors meant to slow hypergrowth species.
She sprints back to the infestation, already programming the generator with one hand while uncorking a vial with the other.
"Alright, let's see how you like this," she mutters.
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Eyes of Time: The Final Line ✓
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