Corpse Flower Bloom Cycle 소설 & 이야기

Veyra tries to maintain order, but even she’s unnerved. “It’s waiting,” she says. “For what?” The Hunter’s voice is grim. ***For the Seed to make a mistake.*** The static in me shifts, harmonizing with the Seed’s song. It’s not just curious—it’s *hungry*. --- **The Blooming** The flowers begin to change. Their petals harden into crystalline scales, their cores pulsing with a faint, green light. The Forgotten who touch them vanish, their mutations evolving into something… else.

"They look completely dead." "Oh, they aren't dead. They're just incredibly selective," Maeve whispered, her voice dropping to a strange, intense tone. "You see, these aren't regular flowers. They only open up under the direct presence of the ancient, royal Lycan blood lines. The pure blood.“ "Well, Cassian must come down here a lot then," I said, letting my fingertips gently brush against the edge of the closed purple petal. The exact second my skin made contact with the flower, a sudden, blinding flash of silver light erupted from the center of the orchid.

The glittering dewdrops on the bright red petals attract people's eyes, make people fall in love, and they can't help but touch and cut off this flower. Oralie stepped closer step by step. The closer she got, the more seductive the scent became. Like a beautiful woman waving right in front of her eyes. She reached out her hand, wanting to pluck the flower. But then she retracted her hand, pulled out a Pepid Rainbow leather glove from her pocket, and put it on her white hand. Then, she carefully reached out, plucked this beautiful flower, and put it in the side pocket. It's not that she's suddenly so careful, because she knows well, that this is a Biennial flower.

I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. My dad followed me, shaking his head. "That's not a good way to deal with it, Jas. Something bad happening doesn't take away that it's still also your birthday." He smiled sympathetically. "You know your mom wouldn't want you to be doing this every year." I sighed as I headed out of the house and to my dad's car. "Well—it just doesn't feel right to do it any differently." - I placed the flowers down on my moms grave. Jasmines. Her favourite.

It was transforming. The time had come. As the tempest raged on through the half-minute, the little white flower began to blossom in real-time, at a rate that even the naked eye could see. Then, thirty-seconds later, the previously thumb-sized flower grew into a beautiful, colorful flower that was around half a meter. Soon after, a radiant fruit was finally borne. The colors of the rainbow bloomed out of its stigma like it was the pot of gold at the end of it. Zayn’s eyes widened, his pupils nailed to the strange plant as it grew. He felt as though his heart had stopped. His breathing quickened.

"It’s an ancient flower. The Lunaris Bloom. It only blooms every ten years... unless someone’s somehow kept one alive." I didn’t even let him finish. "What the hell is a Lunaris Bloom?" I snapped, feeling my face twist in confusion. Adrian sighed, dragging a hand through his hair, messing it up more. He looked like he didn’t even know where to start. "It’s... complicated." "Try me," I snapped again, hugging the diary tighter to my chest, feeling the thin pages press against my ribs.

Suddenly, Miren's voice transformed into a song about the manipulation of the soul and the destruction of life. "The most gentle and lovely people in the world are responsible for creating the stunning irises that are known as the flowers of death. This intoxicating and alluring aroma is wrapping its arms around your broken heart. Those with feeble and pitiful hearts are looking for support for their unsteady hearts wherever they can find it. The blood that is currently flowing through you is beginning to heat up gradually. The moans of the dying are trying to bring your attention back to the reality of the situation. This harsh reality world no longer has anything that can stop you from mov

‘No way? There were only three leaves before this, how long has it been? Now all the eight leaves have grown, and even a flower has bloomed?! This spiritual soil is too magical!’ Well, Alex initially thought that the frosty octagon flower would take at least five years to bloom. However, it had bloomed now just after one day and night, shortening the time by five years. What sort of magic is this? Alex stared at the dark coloured spiritual soil in the pot in amazement.

The room fell into an awed hush as everyone’s eyes fixated on it. “This,” the presenter began, his voice carrying a reverent tone, “is The Eternal Bloom. A marvel of nature and a symbol of unparalleled rarity. It is said that this flower grows only in the wilds of an isolated region in South America, thriving in conditions so specific that it blooms once every twenty years—and only for a single night.” A murmur swept through the audience, their fascination mounting with each word.

Just as she had guessed, there was a huge red corpse flower hidden amidst the bushes. The stench was so foul that bile rose in her throat. She held her breath, looking for something to tie her nose with. She found the mask in her backpack. It was specifically designed to keep out harmful gases. Vivian heaved a sigh of relief when the smell faded. She dipped her hand in the center of the flower and applied the sticky juice to her clothes. “Yuck! You better work; moronic flower.” Vivian said with disgust. She even tore apart a deep maroon petal and stuffed it into her pocket.