Hundreds of people, scattered across the cliff, blinking and crying just like her. Children, elders, miners, mechanics. All of them had touched a flower. All of them had been forgotten by Veridian. All of them had the same look in their eyes: not fear, but recognition .
She didn't fall. She ascended .
She was twelve, with storm-colored eyes and hair the shade of dried kelp, and she spent her days in the Hydroponic District, tending to the only living things that still remembered light: a row of struggling violet orchids. aviana violet