Welcome to the Greenhouse. Please Scream Responsibly.

Lia opened the door and saw the inside of the greenhouse for the first time.

"Wow... This is more serene than the outside," she gasped in awe.

Plants of every shade filled the space. Beautiful paradise birds fluttered overhead, and in the center, a small waterfall poured into a sparkling pond. Then, as if casually strolling through a jungle gym, a giant orange with a Mr. Olympia body strutted right past them.

The three of them flipped out.

"Again?!" Rai instinctively threw out his hand, ready to chant a spell.

"Heavyweight, baby?" the orange rumbled in a deep, echoing voice, then strutted right past them—completely uninterested.

The trio blinked.

With a sudden pop of gold mist, Bell emerged mid-air, spinning lazily like he'd been waiting for this moment.

"Ah, yes! That absolute unit is Mandojack," Bell announced proudly.

"An anomaly born when some lunatic fed a perfectly innocent orange tree nothing but protein shakes. Look at those delts."

He cleared his non-throat.

"It only says one thing—'Heavyweight, baby'—but don't be fooled. It's usually chill. Zen, even. However—if it ever starts shouting… duck. And run. Preferably in that order."

Lia raised an eyebrow. "Why is it built like a gym coach on juice?"

"Because science," Bell replied, deadpan.

"Mandojack? More like Juicehead," Rai snorted.

In the corner, they spotted a squat pepper plant surrounded by scorched soil and a warning sign that read;

"DO NOT APPROACH. NO, SERIOUSLY."

It looked like a Carolina Reaper… except it had a mouth—currently snoring. Loudly.

Bell materialized with a dramatic whisper.

"Shhh… that's Pyroper. Looks like a pepper. Is not just a pepper."

He floated in closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.

"Spits fire at high pressure if startled. Think flamethrower. But angry. And spicy. And deeply petty."

The trio instinctively stepped back in sync.

"Trigger warning: It hates loud noises, sudden movement, and bad vibes. If it's asleep, leave it. If it's awake, leave faster. And never—ever—taunt it. It will scream back. Then flambé your entire existence." Bell grimaced.

"O-kay… now let's move before something catches fire," Rai muttered, already nudging the others away.

Further in, they passed a gnarled apple tree with a twisted trunk and several… bitemarks on the ground.

One of the apples snapped at a passing butterfly and missed by inches.

"Oh! You've found Snapplejack!" Bell chirped, clearly too enthusiastic for something so bitey.

"Came from an apple tree that somehow cross-pollinated with a snapping turtle. Don't ask how. Or where. Or why. The fruit has a bite reflex. Extremely rude."

Lia leaned in warily. "Wait, so it… bites you back?"

"Only if you wiggle. Or breathe near it. Or exist near it, really."

Rai muttered, "How do people eat that?"

"With speed. And a long stick."

"And cross-pollinated with what?" Niko clutched his forehead in disbelief.

"It's a turtle, though..." Rai trailed off. "You wanna know what the shape of a turtle's D—"

"NO!!!" Lia and Niko screamed in unison.

As they got deeper into the greenhouse, Rai suddenly stepped on something.

SPLAT.

It was squishy, but he ignored it and kept walking.

Until—

"Umm… guys? I think I'm stuck…" Rai called out, now a few meters behind.

"Huh?" Niko turned around—only to feel the floor tug his foot down with a wet pop.

"Wait—what the—?"

He was stuck too.

"Come on, guys. We don't have much—"

SPLAT.

Lia was caught mid-sentence as she stepped right into it.

Now all three of them were immobilized.

Bell popped in upside down this time, frowning at the gooey floor.

"Ugh. Classic Sticklepod. It's not dangerous—just disgustingly clingy."

He circled the squishy vines with visible disgust.

"Secretes high-grade plant glue to trap passersby. Why? Because it wants you to wipe its feet. Like it's royalty. Or a doormat with abandonment issues."

The trio groaned as they scrubbed their shoes against the spongy surface.

"Once it feels 'clean enough,' it lets go. So, congratulations—you just gave a plant a spa day."

Rai muttered, "I feel like I lost a bet with the ecosystem."

"You did," Bell nodded. "And the ecosystem's winning."

Rai blinked. "Wait, it likes that?"

The sap beneath them made a faint slurp sound, like it was responding to attention.

"Oh no. No no no," Niko whispered. "This is the part where we don't do anything stupid."

Rai raised his hand. "But if we just chant a bit of Wind spell, maybe we can—"

"NO!" Lia hissed. "The last thing we want is to blow hot air into a sticky plant! That's how you make caramel."

"…Kind of sounds delicious now that you put it that way," Rai muttered.

"Rai!"

"Okay, okay!"

They stood frozen, slowly sinking a few millimeters deeper.

From the canopy above, a long vine descended… holding a wet sponge.

"…Why is it holding a sponge?" Niko asked, narrowing his eyes.

Bell floated in, arms metaphorically crossed.

"In case of emergency," he said dryly, "bribe with moisture."

Lia groaned. "You're kidding."

"I'm not," Bell deadpanned. "Look at it—it's offering you a sponge, boo. That's diplomacy in plant language."

A moment of dead silence passed as the sponge gently dangled in front of them—like a waiter waiting for them to get it.

The trio hesitated… then snatched the sponge and started wiping their feet like their lives depended on it.

"I can't believe there's a plant that demands to be served," Lia grumbled, scrubbing her shoe like she was polishing silverware.

Rai was practically wrestling his boot off. "I feel like I'm giving a foot massage to glue."

"I feel judged by a floor," Niko muttered.

As soon as the sticky sap loosened, there was no hesitation. All three of them bolted.

Their footsteps echoed in the greenhouse as they sprinted away like they'd just insulted a mafia boss with chlorophyll.

Then—they stopped. Dead in their tracks.

Right in front of them stood a crooked tree. Not twisted like a fantasy tree. Crooked, like it knew something.

Its bark curled just enough to resemble a face—and the face was sleeping. Mouth slightly open. Breathing slow.

The air felt heavier here—like a warning wrapped in silence.

Bell materialized slowly, hovering upside down with his usual flair… but his voice came out low.

"…Nope."

He floated backwards a little.

"What do you mean nope?" Lia whispered, clutching her scroll.

Bell didn't take his eyes off the tree.

"That's Anomaly #5. Its name is redacted. On purpose. Even I don't know it."

Niko blinked. "Wait—you're the book. How do you not—"

"I said nope," Bell cut in. "Moving on. Quietly. Preferably without making eye contact. Or shadow contact."

Lia gave a stiff nod. "Noted."

The three of them made eye contact. No jokes. No questions.

Then they all started speed walking—like they were in a museum, being chased by guilt and haunted soup in their pockets.

They finally reached a bench tucked between two oversized ferns—a perfect place to collapse after everything they'd just seen.

All three flopped down, panting.

"Is this place even real?" Niko wiped sweat from his brow.

"I dunno, man… I don't wanna be dumb again. I'm gonna study next semester," Rai said, laughing breathlessly.

"If only I wasn't cheating, I wouldn't be here in the first place," said a fourth voice.

"...Who said that?" Lia asked, blinking.

"Not us," Rai and Niko said at the same time.

A floating fruit with zebra stripes bobbed into view—round like a squash, smug like a soap opera villain.

"It's me, your friendly sentient plant—Al-Zebra!" it beamed. "Part fruit, part existential crisis!"

Bell popped in with a squint.

"Oh great. This one." He hovered with a dramatic groan.

"Al-Zebra. Born from a hybrid squash and an enchanted zebra-patterned rug left in a drama classroom. It floats. It talks. It overshares. And if you offer it snacks, it will forgive any emotional damage you've ever caused."

"Hey!" Al-Zebra floated closer. "I'm very forgiving, especially if you have trail mix or unresolved trauma!"

Rai let out a flat sigh, pulled off his coat, and caught Al-Zebra like a dodgeball.

"I've had enough talking vegetables today."

With a grunt, he chucked the fruit into the bushes.

It sailed off with a fading, offended squeal:

"I just wanted closuuuuuure—!"

The trio sat in silence for a beat.

"…You could've at least let me pitch it into a recycling bin," Niko muttered.

"I did pitch it. With emotional impact," Rai replied, already standing up to leave.

Lia sighed, pushing herself to her feet. "We're documenting plants, not launching them into the stratosphere."

"Already did," Rai shrugged. "No ragrets."

Niko blinked. "We're so getting banned from this place."

* * *

As they walk around a few steps forward, they spotted a glowing green exit sign mounted on a post, pointing to the left.

"Hang on…" Niko slowed down, frowning. "This is weird."

Lia and Rai stopped. "What's weird?" Rai asked.

"An exit sign? In here? What is this place—some kind of… amusement park?" Niko glanced behind them. "We just came from that door, right?"

He trailed off.

The entrance was gone.

Not obscured.

Not blocked.

Gone.

And the greenhouse wasn't that big. There was no reason it should've vanished.

"Oh my god…" Lia muttered, squatting down and hugging her knees. "Nope. Nope. This is not funny anymore."

Even Rai looked uncomfortable now. "We didn't even turn anywhere…"

A soft wind passed through the leaves above them, but none of the plants rustled.

Silence clung to the air—thick and wrong.

Then, without warning, a stick popped out of the ground with a sharp THUNK.

The trio flinched.

The stick wobbled…Then another stick sprouted sideways. Then two more. And another.

Right in front of them, a full stickman assembled itself out of twigs and bark, like a cursed IKEA project building itself.

Niko, Lia, and Rai stood frozen, mouths slightly open.

"…What is happening," Rai whispered.

Bell popped into existence midair, upside down—spinning slowly like a confused ceiling fan.

"Oh no," he said flatly. "Nope. Absolutely not. We are not doing this today."

The trio looked at him, startled. Bell groaned, flipping upright.

"Twigglypuff. A lonely twig creature that traps wanderers just to play Rock-Paper-Scissors. Forever. Win once—you escape. If all of you lose... welcome to eternity. With sticks. And bad odds."

Lia's eyes widened. "Wait, it's lonely? It's just... been here?"

Bell glanced at her, floating a little closer. "…It just wants to play."

Her lip trembled. "That's... the saddest and stupidest thing I've ever heard," she said, voice cracking.

Rai crossed his arms. "And I've seen a protein-powered orange."

Twigglypuff stood ready—one hand behind its back, the other raised flat like a referee.

The game had begun.

Niko gulped. "I'll go first…"

He stepped forward, raising a shaky fist.

Twigglypuff didn't move. Its faceless head tilted—waiting.

"One, two, three!"

Niko threw out Paper.

Twigglypuff revealed its hand:

Scissors.

"Aaand that's a loss." Niko backed away, face pale. "Cool. Great. Love that."

"It's okay," Lia sniffled. "We still have two chances…"

Rai cracked his knuckles. "Bring it on. The main event is now."

He stepped forward with all the confidence of someone who absolutely had no plan.

Twigglypuff didn't move. Its faceless head tilted—waiting.

"One, two, three!"

Rai threw out... Guns?

He made finger pistols. "Pew-pew?"

A beat of silence.

Twigglypuff slowly raised a stick arm… and bonked Rai gently on the forehead.

"Okay, okay! Guess that's not allowed…" Rai muttered, rubbing his head. "Tough crowd."

He reset.

"One, two, three!"

This time—Rock.

Twigglypuff revealed its hand: Paper.

Rai screamed, "GODDAMNIT!" and stomped in a circle like a sore toddler.

From the side, Niko whispered, "He's gonna take that personally."

Lia nodded. "He's already spiraling."

Bell floated by with a tiny white flag. "Round one: Plant wins. Humanity: zero."

"Okay, my turn," Lia exhaled, steeling herself.

She paused, then remembered—the encyclopedia from this morning...

Twigglypuff can read thoughts. The trick? Think one thing, expect the counter, then throw the counter's counter. Basically, out-dumb the plant.

She stepped forward cautiously, lifting her hand.

"One, two, three!"

Lia threw out Paper.

Twigglypuff revealed its hand: Rock.

"YAY, I WIN!!" Lia shouted, clapping like a kid at a birthday party. She bounced in place, absolutely beaming.

Niko and Rai just stared at her.

"…You're way too proud of that," Niko muttered.

Bell spun a slow circle above her head. "To be fair, that was a psychological masterpiece. Mind games, misdirection, mild insanity—ten out of ten."

"Paper beats rock," Rai said flatly. "This place is cursed."

Twigglypuff clapped softly—then slowly sank into the ground, waving its stick hand like a retiring drama teacher.

* * *

Moments later, the bushes behind them rustled, parting like curtains. The door they had entered through reappeared—glowing faintly, waiting.

"Okay," Lia said, catching her breath. "Three anomalies left."

Niko pointed ahead. "Then let's find them before the plants start demanding thumb wars."

Rai cracked his neck. "Bring it on. I'm already losing my grip on reality."

They moved out, quickening their pace.

They spotted the old bench they'd sat on before—and this time, something caught their eye.

Beneath it, a tiny metal plaque was bolted into the wood.

The three crouched down to read it.

"Does this count as an anomaly too?" Rai asked, scratching his head.

Bell appeared with a faint ding, floating upside down to match their angle.

"Yes. Angel Vines. Long-lost sibling of Devil Vines, and second cousin to Brambling Vines. Looks harmless. Isn't. Unlike its relatives, it has no thorns—but if you step on or prune it?"

He gestured lazily.

"It leaks acid."

Rai looked down. "Like—"

"Exactly like the one you just stepped on," Bell finished.

"AGAIN?!" Rai leapt away, shoes already starting to sizzle.

"Well," Niko muttered, blinking calmly. "Two more to go."

The trio wandered for quite a while, scanning every patch of greenery for the last two anomalies.

Twigglypuff occasionally popped up from random corners—behind bushes, above branches, even once rising dramatically from a flower pot—quietly holding out a stick-hand in "rock-paper-scissors" pose.

They politely waved each time, and it slowly sank back into the ground, sulking.

"It's just lonely now," Lia whispered. "Poor guy."

Then—

"Ooooh, what's this??" Bell gasped, zooming ahead toward a cluster of ancient-looking sprouts.

"What is it, Bell?" Lia asked.

Bell hovered in awe. "Saplings of the Old World Tree. The source of the very pages that make me. I didn't think any still existed…"

He floated in reverence. Niko quickly scribbled notes.

"Well, that's number nine," he said, flipping the page.

Rai glanced up. The glass roof glowed orange now.

"One more to go… and the sun's racing us."

* * *

They'd been wandering around for what felt like forever. No signs. No rustling. Nothing even pretending to be weird anymore.

"It's like the last anomaly's playing hide-and-seek," Niko muttered.

"We already have a seeker," Rai grumbled. "His name is exhaustion."

Then—

CRACK.

A clay pot tumbled from a high shelf and smashed on the ground.

The trio jumped back.

Emerging from the soil was something they definitely recognized... but also absolutely did not want to see again.

A baby carrot.

With legs.

Except now it had arms.

And a pitchfork.

Its beady little eyes glared at them like it remembered everything.

Bell peeked out from behind Lia's head and gasped.

"Ooooooh, shoot... That's not a baby carrot anymore. That's a Harvessant. It's evolved."

"A what?" Niko choked.

"The Harvessant! It targets humans for sport! The limbs it has—those are from previous victims!" Bell shivered mid-air, recoiling.

The Harvessant twitched, then pointed its pitchfork at Rai like he owed it lunch money.

"I don't like this," Lia whispered, slowly backing away.

"I really don't like this," Niko echoed.

"Can we just… call this number ten and run?" Rai suggested.

All of them nodded—swiftly, and without hesitation.

"Agreed, then…" Bell declared.

"RUN."

They bolted for the exit, lungs burning, feet pounding.

Rai slammed the greenhouse door shut, and Niko locked it with trembling hands.

BANG!

The door shook violently.

THUNK!

A pitchfork stabbed through the wood, metal prying with wild force.

"HWAT?! I WON'T EAT BABY CARROTS AGAIN IN MY WHOLE LIFE!" Niko screamed.

They didn't wait.They ran as fast as their legs could carry them.

Past the benches. Past the signage. Past the peacefully rocking Ms. Jobber, who simply sipped her tea.

The trio vanished down the path without even a goodbye.

Ms. Jobber blinked.

"…Kids these days," she muttered, standing slowly.

A low, wheezing growl came from behind the door.

She narrowed her eyes, listening to the harsh panting.

"Oh no no no, not today, Harvessant," she sighed.

She clapped once.

THUD.

Dozens of grimoires dropped from thin air like concrete pigeons.

They launched themselves at the Harvessant in a papery blur of fury.

Ten seconds later, it was just a pile of steaming, mashed carrot.

Ms. Jobber sat back down and resumed rocking.

* * *

The three of them stopped at the top of the sunken valley, staring down at the greenhouse from above.

"No way I'm going back in there anytime soon…" Rai panted, hands on his knees.

"Hard agree," Niko added, slumping beside him.

Lia flopped onto the grass, arms spread wide as Bell floated above her, fanning her dramatically with a folded leaf.

"It's getting late," Niko said, checking the sky. "We should head back to the teacher's office."

"Can… you… wait… just… a… minute…" Lia wheezed, still catching her breath.

So they waited, letting the wind cool them down as the sun dipped lower.

Five minutes later, they trudged off—bruised, exhausted, but somehow… still in one piece.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the front gate of Westhex Academy, someone was tapping their foot—hard.

"It's 5:30 now… Urgh! Either that boy stood me up, or that goth girl never delivered my message!" Likka growled, fists clenched.

"Fine! If he won't come to me, I'll go to him!"She spun around and stomped off, each step echoing the beginning of a manhunt.

* * *