Civilian stopped at a broken traffic sign, swaying lightly in the wind. The metal plate was twisted, and the text barely legible, only faded outlines of letters remained, washed away by rain and time. But one word still stood clear: EXOTIC.


Soldier frowned.

“No idea what that’s supposed to mean.”


Civilian gave a faint smile.

“Trust me. You’ll know.”


And he was right.


The building at the end of the street, once just a cold block of concrete, had transformed beyond recognition. Long vines grew from deep cracks in the walls, balconies had turned into blooming terraces, and iron railings were wrapped in vibrant green tendrils. All around them, red, pink, and orange blossoms bloomed, flowers only someone who once tended this place might have known by name.


But it wasn’t just the building itself. The entire street felt eerily alive. Trees grew between floors, as if they had long forgotten they were once planted in pots.

Grass blanketed the broken pavement, moss softened the scars of civilization. Hanging gardens spilled from windows, not crafted by human hands, but formed by nature’s quiet persistence.


EXOTIC FLOWER EXHIBITION, Soldier read from a weathered sign, half-swallowed by wild growth. That made sense.He slowly turned, his gaze drifting over the strange blend of life and decay. If he didn’t know better, he might almost think the place was beautiful.


For a moment, silence settled between them.


Only the breeze rustled the leaves, and somewhere in the distance, the flap of wings broke the stillness.


“Nature never waits for permission,” Civilian murmured, resting a hand against the remaining wall.


It was warm from the sun—yet damp with teeming life.


Soldier only looked around in silence.There was caution in his eyes, distrust. The beauty here was misleading.It didn’t mean safety. It only meant people hadn’t been here in a long time.


“And now what?” he asked at last.


Civilian shrugged and pointed deeper into the overgrown tangle.

“Now we go right.”