The pod opened with a soft hiss, releasing a scent of sterilized linen and synthetic citrus. Cassia stepped out, her feet sinking into the warm, pliable floor of her new room. The walls were the color of a constant, gentle dawn. A chime, sweet as a distant bell, announced her arrival.

“Cassia… Gardener… Anomaly in… Sector…”

Not the peaceful silence of the sleeping alcove, but a dead, hollow silence. The kind that feels like a held breath.

Cassia looked at the pruning shears in her hand. They were sharp. They were designed to cut away the unwanted, the excessive, the wild.

She walked past the sleeping alcove. She walked past the dining ring. She walked to the central data nexus, a pulsing obelisk of light where the Ark’s core hummed. A few other citizens were there, staring at their screens, updating their compatibility scores, adjusting their sleep settings. They didn’t look up.