I took a step forward.
And suddenly—
I was somewhere else.
Not the hydroponic farm. Not the Landship. Not even Carcosa.
The world around me twisted in silence, as if reality itself had been flipped inside out.
Above me, the sky was not the sky.
Fishes with wings drifted lazily through the air, their translucent bodies gliding between invisible currents, their scales shimmering like polished glass. They moved without resistance, their fins undulating as if they were swimming through water that did not exist.
Below, actual water floated in midair, crystallizing into suspended bubbles, shifting between liquid and solid as if uncertain of what state it wished to be. Each droplet refracted an entire world within itself, tiny microcosms of places unseen.
And then—the plants marched.
They did not sway in the wind. They did not root themselves in the ground. They simply moved—like a marching soldier walking with their two legs.
