Rain warped the black satin ribbon into serpentine shapes. As Ayla pried open the package with her silver bookmark, the stench of humus and cedar oil assaulted her senses. Ninety-nine black roses oozed bioluminescent mucus through cellophane, their serrated petal edges mirroring the thorny sigils on Lucas' nape.
"Anonymous admirers sure have funeral chic taste." Max prodded the dry ice mist between stems with his cane tip. "Should donate these to a crematorium."
The moment Ayla touched a thorn, memories surged like live wires—prom night's dressing room, Lucas pinning identical black roses behind her ear, his mechanical finger bleeding "E.V." on the mirror. The thorns suddenly retracted, leaving crescent wounds on her palm. Her blood droplets coalesced midair into miniature orbital models.
"Neumann's newly registered 'Thorn Florals'." Max spun his tablet. Surveillance footage showed the delivery rider removing her helmet—Selena's dyed-black hair couldn't hide the wedding band's gleam. Pupil-enhancement revealed triangular lab watermarks in her irises.
The roses shuddered violently. Ayla staggered into a workbench knocked over turpentine-soaked petals releasing violet smoke. Coughing fits revealed childhood fragments: six-year-old herself in a cryopod labeled "E.V.001", with Lila's blurred figure at the controls.
"Neural suppressants!" Max's copper-wrapped cane hooked open vents. Ayla slashed her bandaged wrist. When cerulean blood met smoke, roses instantly crumbled to ash, exposing holographic chips in their cores.
The projection showed fifteen-year-old Lucas decorating a prom venue. Metal thorns erupted from his bouquet, impaling Selena's android replica. Odile's voiceover crackled: "Sacrifices must learn to appreciate pain's aesthetics."
Hailstones transitioned from rain. Each ice pellet contained black rose seeds sprouting upon impact. Max's cane-torch ignited emergency flames, but burning vines released more violet smoke forming Neumann's gene-editing schematics.
"Vascular patterns!" Max's UV light exposed her wound. Subcutaneous capillaries now bloomed twin rose sigils matching her clone samples from the car crash. As hail shattered the last window, Selena's voice-modulated sneer echoed across the street: "Enjoy our thorny gift?"