When she was yet human

"This is a tale of the recent past."
"A tale of a time when she was still human."
"A tale of how Flowers were born into the world..."

"You're going to grow up big and strong." 
A woman murmurs these words to the organic matter growing inside the incubator. She operates the console with a practiced hand. Holographic panels float in the air before her, displaying detailed information on the status of the matter in the incubator. The data is diverse, covering everything from humidity and temperature to the concentration of oxygen, elemental makeup of the soil, and even thermal conductivity. 

Each number is one piece of a delicate dance; if one fails, the others will follow. It is difficult work, but the woman feels pride at her success thus far. Once, thousands of years in the past, Earth contained what was known as "nature." Uncountable plants and animals flourished in ecosystems across the mountains and oceans — and they did so alongside humans. But due to human expansion and ecological pollution — as well as disasters and climate change wrought by nature itself — the ecology was weakened, and life began to sputter out. Now, the nature that once sparked plants and animals across the entire planet has been entirely lost.

The woman works in a genetic research facility. It was built with the newest and best technology available, and serves as a gathering place and laboratory for the world's most prominent scholars and researchers. The woman, a leader in the field of genetic engineering, now concentrates all her efforts on the process of regenerating extinct plants and animals.

"You seem extra happy today," she says to her latest experiment.
"So why don't we give this a go?"

She flips switches and presses buttons on the console. Moments later, there is a beep and liquid sprays into the incubator. That liquid is a custom-made growth accelerant that interacts directly with DNA. The moment it lands on the organic matter, a white flower springs out of the soil.

"Yes!" cries the woman.
She permits herself a single fist pump. In truth, she wants to leap up and go dancing through the lab, but the fact she is under constant surveillance takes much of the fun out of such spontaneous celebrations. Not to mention her embarrassing incident of long ago...

"Brought another one back, did you?"
The speaker is a large, muscular man in a lab coat. Though his physique is more appropriate for a soldier, he is actually a talented scientist in his own right.

"Honey!" says the woman.
"I thought you were sleeping. But yes, come here and take a look at this."She and the man have been married for five years. They met in this very facility.

"It's pretty," murmurs the man as he bends down to get a better look at the incubator.
"What's it called?"

"I don't know. But according to the literature, they say finding one will grant your greatest wish."

Though the woman would be embarrassed to admit as much, this story is the reason she chose to bring the flower back. For she has a wish she desires above all else: A wish to see the world filled with green once more. As she stares at the flower growing in the rich soil, she whispers her wish, hoping that it might hear. This world knows nothing but heartache and loss, and she wants to give it something good. It's the reason she studied genetic engineering in the first place. And though it has been a journey of fits and starts, her plans are finally bearing fruit.

Suddenly, her thoughts are interrupted by the strident howl of an alarm, followed by a red light in the incubator. The two look inside and see the flower rapidly shriveling.

"No," says the woman.
"No! Why is this happening!?"She frantically rechecks the information on the panels. The numbers that represent the flower's nutrients are all swiftly decreasing.

"Hang on. I'm going to raise the values."
She pumps additional nutrients into the incubator — twice the normal amount. Liquid gushes out, adjusting the concentration of oxygen and the nutrients within the soil. But the flower continues to fade, its petals falling noiselessly onto the dirt below. Her husband looks at some of the numbers and furrows his brow.

"Strange. This flower is using far more energy than normal."
It's a calm observation, one made from the experience of seeing countless flora wither away in his own experiments. But the woman is in no mood to hear it.

I can't let it die, she thinks. Not now. If it dies, my wish dies with it.

She doubles down and focuses on the console. More liquid enters the incubator's glowing red interior.

"Come on," she says through clenched teeth.
"Come on."
"I'm not giving up on you now!"

Finally, the dripping flower begins to grow again, its fallen petals regenerating before their eyes.... But it does not stop. A moment later, the Flower smashes out of the incubator, sending tendrils and roots coiling across the floor. It almost seems to be searching for something. And it shows no signs of stopping.

A siren begins to wail. The couple presses against a far wall, trying to escape the thing they have unleashed. The Flower continues to grow. Soon, the roots have covered the entire floor.

The walls are gone. The celling is gone. Nearly the entire room is buried in plant matter. Suddenly, several of their fellow researchers force the door open and run into the lab.

"You guys all right?" one of them asks, breathless.
"We're fine," says the husband.
"Just used a heavy hand with the growth accelerant, is all."

The husband explains the situation because his wife is sitting on the floor, too stunned to speak.

Their fellow scientists express relief to know the couple is safe.

"I'm sorry," whispers the woman.
"God, I'm so sorry."
Her husband helps her to her feet and embraces her.

"It's all right. I'm just glad you weren't hurt."
His warmth melts away the tension in her heart.

"Hey, did you guys see this? It's really interesting..." One of their coworkers is tapping the side of the Flower's stem. Others soon gather around to make their own observations, intrigued by the situation. The stem is far tougher than that of the original plant. And its mass has clearly increased. But it didn't do so through multiplying cells — rather, it has simply increased in size.

"Hang on. What's this?"
One scientist is staring at the petals.

"Guys, look. I think there's something in here."
"Wait, it could be dangerous," says the woman.
"No, it's okay. I'm just going to..."
"W-wait... My arm! It's got my arm!"

The man's voice begins to grow panicked. He's clearly not joking. Suddenly, he lets out a horrifying wail. The other researchers attempt to pry the petals open, but they are hard as stone and won't so much as budge.

"Help me!" screams the man.
"Oh god, SOMEONE HELP ME!"

The Flower begins to pull the man inside. His coworkers desperately try to free him, but they might as well be pulling a mountain.

"H-help... Heeelp meeeeee..."

The man is gone. From inside the now swollen corolla comes the sounds of something straining and cracking. Then it flies open and sprays blood across the entire room. A hunk of flesh—the remains of their coworker—flies out and tumbles across the floor. As they watch, horrified, a new Flower springs up from the meat. The germinated Flower grows just as rapidly as its kin, causing the meat to shrink at the same time.

"My god..." says the woman.
"It's absorbing the nutrients."

With the meat depleted, the Flower begins to squirm and writhe across the floor in search of a new source of food.

"Run!" someone yells.
"Get the hell out of here!"
The researchers dash away as one.

The screams continue. The Flowers pursue the survivors, slithering over the floor like snakes with petals for heads. Each time one of the petals consumes a victim, a new Flower sprouts from the remains. Their numbers grow. And grow. And grow.

"Here! Hide in here!"
The husband pulls the woman into a small closet in the corner of the research division.

They force their ragged breaths to slow as they try to remain quiet. Outside, the sounds of slithering and screams are everywhere.

"What have I done?"
This was my experiment. My flower. And now it's eating people.
Was it a dangerous plant that should never have been revived?
Was it the fault of the growth accelerant I formulated?
Before she can wonder more, her husband pulls her close.

"Right now, we just need to survive."

His embrace drives the fear and doubt from her mind. Her shivering slowly comes to a stop. But the sounds outside continue without pause, and they know they do not have long. Suddenly, her husband lets her go and reaches for the door.
"Hang on, honey. I'll be right back."

Before she can say anything, he bolts from the closet, seals the door behind him, and runs down the hall while making as much noise as he possibly can. It's clear he's trying to lure them away.

No, please... Please don't leave me here alone...

Time passes — she has no idea how much. Eventually, the slithers and screams die off, leaving the facility enrobed in an unnatural silence. She attempts to leave the closet, but the door is locked. The woman feels her body growing cold, perhaps due to fear and guilt. All she can do is wait and pray for her husband to return. Ironically, they had met in this very closet.

Her arms had been piled with equipment that day, and she was unable to work the knob. Suddenly, her gallant knight swooped in and opened the door for her.

"Maybe leave a few things behind next time, ya dope," he'd said with a chuckle. Oh, she had been mad. More than mad — furious. But as he continued to assist her from time to time, she found herself becoming attracted to him. She had a tendency to get lost in her research, sometimes even forgetting to sleep and eat, but he was always there to support her.

Suddenly, a faint voice snaps her back to reality.
"...There? Is anyone there?" The woman leaps to her feet and starts pounding on the door.

"Here!" she cries. "I'm in here!" Footsteps pound into place outside the closet. She hears radio calls, breathing, muttered commands.

"We're going to cut through the door. Stand back."
A glowing red dot appears in the center of the door, sending up smoke. Soon, the high-temperature cutter begins slicing a hole in the steel. When it is halfway done, she peeks through the opening and beholds a horrible sight. The walls, floors, and ceiling of the facility have had furrows gouged into them by the snaking movements of the Flowers. And within each furrow is tightly packed meat that oozes fresh blood. Bodies that weren't absorbed had been ground into paste by the sheer bulk of the Flowers. The woman can't even tell who they used to be. But when the smell hits her, she turns aside and vomits.

"You all right, ma'am?"
The voice comes from a soldier looking at her through the hole in the door. He's covered head-to-toe in thick black armor and holds an imposing beam rifle in his hand. He looks to be ready for war. The woman nods, wipes her mouth with a shaking hand, and crawls out through the hole.

The smell is worse out here. Much worse. And it brings everything rushing back: The screams of pain. The snapping of bones. The delight of the Flowers as they ate. She can hear and see it all over again. She turns to the side and vomits once more, but all that comes out is a stream of yellow bile. Her body has nothing left to give.

"W-were there any others survivors?" asks the woman, hoping against hope for a miracle. The soldiers just shake their heads. The hues of despair grow darker. But she cannot stay here. Not when he might be alive. Not when he might need her help.

"I'm coming with you," she says. "I need to find my husband."
"Oh, and I know every inch of this facility, so I can guide you wherever you need to go."

After a brief conference, the solders bring her along. Eventually, they arrive at the most heavily damaged area. This is Research Block 21 — the location of the woman's lab. It's as if someone redecorated the room to look like a version of Hell. Everything, from the floors to the ceiling, is painted red: Blood from the birth of a Flower. How many of her coworkers had been consumed? How many had she killed? The guilt chills her to the bone.

Suddenly, a deep bellow rumbles out. Something is coming their way. Something massive.

"In positions, now!"
The soldiers raise rifles to shoulders as the enemy approaches. It's a Flower — one far bigger than any they've seen before. It is the most horrible sight imaginable. The petals are imprinted with the faces of victims. Not one face or two — but dozens. But the military captain pays this no mind.

"All units...fire." The world dissolves into a hail of gunfire. The Flower begins to scream.
My god... It sounds human. Could it really have evolved human traits so quickly? Above the crackle and roar of the firefight, the woman hears a most familiar voice. And when she looks at the Flower again, she sees the face of her love.

"Stop! Don't shoot him!"

She rushes for a nearby soldier, but he pays her no mind. Her pleas go unheard. Her actions are meaningless. Her husband is gone. Knowing this, she breaks down into sobs. This is my fault. It's all my fault.

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.

When the fighting stops, the Flower lies unmoving on the ground. The woman cradles her dead husband and continues to apologize. She does so until her voice finally fails her.

Months go by. They thought they'd dispatched the Flowers that day.... But they were wrong. Another Flower had been found. Then another. And another. The Flowers sow seeds soon after they are born. It is all anyone can talk about anymore. The news is nothing but death figures and horrible stories. And those who manage to escape often find they have no home to return to. The Flowers evolve. They adapt. They increase their reproductive rates, perfect their strategy, and soon are the greatest disaster the world has ever known.

"...No. No! NO!"

Enraged, the woman smashes her hand against the console. Her cheeks are hollow; her eyes darkened pits. She can't remember the last time she slept. Currently, she is working in a small laboratory constructed by another organization. Their only goal is to find a way to stop the Flowers. As the sole survivor from the research facility, leadership of this fight had fallen on her shoulders. She was locked away and tasked with analyzing Flower carcasses in order to find a chemical solution that could kill them. For a time, it looked like their quest would be successful — but the Flowers quickly evolved a resistance to the solution. Each time they created a new chemical, the Flowers adapted to counter it.

Now, she stands before a Flower in a massive incubator. On its petals she sees the faces of her coworkers and husband. Her mind has whirled with thoughts since that day. Were they things she should not wish for? Did they go against nature? Was all of this technology too powerful for humans? She has thought about putting herself out of her misery. But when she thinks of what her husband went through, she finds herself driven by the need for redemption. But this, too, is coming to an end. It has been five days since her liaison with the outside world stopped arriving. Perhaps he decided the research was fruitless and walked away. Perhaps a Flower killed him. Her food supplies are gone, yet she feel strangely at ease. She wonders idly if her senses are beginning to break down. From a distance, she hears the approaching footsteps of the reaper.

"Honey..."
Her husband floats in the incubator, fully merged with the Flower. If she was just doing this to die a failure in the end, it would have been better to become part of the petals with him.

But I know you wouldn't give up. She stands up once more, fighting off the despair in her heart.

And then...an idea. She fiddles with the console, a faint smile on her face. Perhaps it is folly — or perhaps it is the only way they will ever be able to kill the Flowers.

Days pass. The liaison never arrives. The woman is skin and bones, barely able to move. She stands before the incubator with an inscrutable expression and stares at the thing inside. There, floating in the tank, is a couple. She had combined the genes of people and Flowers to create clones of herself and her husband. With a shaking hand, she operates the console. The liquid in the incubator drains away, and the couple awakens.

"Your name is F66x."
"Your name is 063y."
"Together, you will eliminate the Flowers from this world."

The couple nods silently. No matter how many times they might be stricken with despair... No matter how many times they meet a cruel end... They will be reborn again, and throw themselves into battle with the hated Flowers anew. That is how they will achieve victory — and how the woman will gain her redemption. And so, she gives her cloned self its first order: "Kill me."

The clone nods silently and wraps its hands around her neck. As fingers tighten, consciousness slips away. Yet the woman wears an expression of utter peace.

Decades pass. The Flowers can infinitely reproduce. The clones can infinitely reproduce. Their war rages on to this day. And in the midst of this neverending battle, nature begins to take root within the empty cities.