The storm raged beyond Eden's veil, rain lashing the optical camouflage in furious waves that rippled the false sky like torn silk. Inside, the gardens drank deeply—engineered leaves trembling under artificial downpour, water pooling in crystal paths between perfect blooms. Thunder was muted to a distant purr; only the steady drum on greenhouse domes broke the hush. Johan leaned against the lobby rail, cybernetic eyes tracking rivulets racing down transparent walls.

“Keeps the Raptures guessing,”

he grunted, voice rough as gravel. Steam rose from his plated shoulders where rain condensed and evaporated.Noah splashed through flooded walkways, laughing sharp and bright.

“Ark brats are probably crying about leaks right now!”

Her boots kicked arcs of water; pink hair plastered dark against grinning cheeks. A crow tilted its head from a drenched branch, unimpressed.Harran reclined beneath the research pavilion, scythe balanced across her knees like a scepter. Rain sang against the awning in hypnotic rhythm.

“Even the heavens bow to beauty,”

she purred, tracing a droplet’s path down glass with one elegant finger. Her crows huddled close, feathers gleaming wet obsidian.

Cecil’s console glowed steady in the lab’s quiet core. Gray hair caught pale light as she adjusted reservoir intake.

“Harvest at 92%. Optimal.”

No smile, no sigh—just calm calculation while the storm fed their fragile oasis.