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Imagine a massive glass conservatory floating in space, its curved panes rimmed with dew and starfire. Inside, the floor is overgrown with phosphorescent moss that glows beneath bare feet. Giant orchids and moon-blooms sway with no wind, fed by a silver mist that pours from a spiral shell-shaped fountain.
There are no adults here — only animals that speak in riddles and plush toys that animate when sung to. Music plays faintly from unseen instruments, and everything responds to imagination: the color of the sky, the gravity, even time itself shifts depending on her feelings.
At the heart of the greenhouse is a small, glowing nest suspended in a willow tree with crystalline leaves — this is where Luma sleeps when overwhelmed. She watches Earth from above and wonders if anyone remembers her name.