Semua Bab Her Bloom Isn’t Red Anymore: Bab 1 - Bab 10

Chapter 1: She Tasted Like Trouble And Felt Too Familiar Aria had a talent for being unnoticed. Not out of fear or shyness — more like quiet resistance. The city moved fast, loud, and unforgiving, yet she had learned to slip through its cracks, like fog weaving between streetlights. Morning arrived the same as always: too early, too gray. Weak light crept through her blinds, stretching across the linoleum floor in fractured gold, as if the day itself was tired. Aria’s apartment smelled faintly of lavender and stale tea, with dust curling in corners no one else seemed to notice. She shuffled into her kitchen in mismatched socks, her oversized cardigan slipping off one shoulder. The kettle hissed, warming water she probably didn’t need — but for her rituals mattered. She spooned sugar into her mug — three heaps, always — a mug with a strange, wavy rim and a pattern that didn’t quite match. She sprinkled in a few dried rose petals from the jar above the sink. Her fingers lingered on t

Chapter 3: Her Bloom Isn’t Red Anymore, It’s Becoming Everything The world hadn’t ended. Not in the way people expected. No fire raining from the sky. No angels blowing trumpets. No blood oceans or horsemen galloping down the freeway. Just the same morning gridlock on E••••• Avenue, the same white noise of espresso machines screaming in corner cafes, the same looped synth - pop playlist that every shop owner swore was different. Spoiler: it wasn’t. People still scrolled through headlines like they were swiping through a dating app — war, floods, heatwaves, disappearances, whatever — Blink — Gone — Refresh — Next. The city didn’t stop. It groaned and sparked and kept humming like it always had, wrapped in neon and exhaust fumes and that weird mix of human energy and unspoken dread. But underneath it all, buried under the S•••••• ads and 5G signals and non - stop construction — something buzzed. And Aria felt it like an itch just under her skin. She moved through the street

Chapter 5: Your Shirt Smells Like Me This Morning, Sweetie Jules lay back against her pillows, her lips still tingling, hair slightly tousled, her chest rising and falling slowly. Her fingers brushed over the faint red marks Aria left across her skin. Aria’s scent clung to her neck, her jaw, the inside of her thighs — sweet and heated and slightly floral, like her body was made of sunlight and soft hunger. She didn’t want to move. Not yet. Not when Aria was still so close, still panting lightly beside her, flushed and glowing, lips parted like she was tasting the aftershocks of what they just did. Aria stayed there a moment, cheek resting against Jules’ bare shoulder, fingers tracing lazy, meaningless shapes over her stomach. Neither of them spoke. There was no need. The room felt heavier now, wrapped in heat and something softer — something closer to peace than either of them usually touched. Then Aria murmured, “I’ll make you something.” Jules hummed, eyes still barely open. “F

Chapter 7: Time Slips Between Mirrors in an Endless Loop After the mirror cracked and the first crimson flower bloomed inside the bookstore, the world Aria knew began to unravel. The air itself seemed heavier, charged, as if the city had taken a breath and held it. Strange pulses throbbed beneath the streets, low and insistent, like a heartbeat no one else could hear. Unseen eyes followed her everywhere she went, glinting in the shadows. Somehow, what unfolded wasn’t punishment or warning — it was a second chance. Not to undo the past, but to brush closer to a future she had never allowed herself to imagine. On a rooftop five stories above the streets, a girl stood at the edge, wind tugging at her silver - blonde hair, cut so precisely it caught the light in sharp, almost metallic strands Her boots were scuffed, the sleeves of her hoodie frayed at the cuffs, but her eyes — deep forest green, unreadable and sharp — never wavered from the apartment across the street. She didn’t mo

Chapter 9: Subject Zero Escapes and Consumes Chaos Unleashed Instantly The lab was silent, sterile, humming with vibration that seemed older than the building itself. Fluorescent lights flickered, throwing jagged shadows across coiled cables that lay like snakes across the floor. Metal benches gleamed coldly, screens reflecting back, faint green glow of data lines twisting faster than anyone can comprehended. Dr. Harrow and Ramirez were the only humans present, though neither could relax. Every monitor pulsed with erratic patterns, digital echoes of bodies that didn’t exist. Ramirez leaned over the nearest screen, voice low and strained. “Do you… see this?” Harrow didn’t look up. Her hands moved over the keyboard, pressing commands in rapid bursts. “I see it,” she said, voice uneasy. “But it shouldn’t be doing this. Nothing should move without any trigger.” Ramirez swallowed hard, eyes darting from screen to screen. “It’s… thinking. I swear, it’s aware. It’s learning faster than