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Here. This next room. This was the one. Even before entering it, she could tell. And the moment her bare foot touched the grass, she immediately felt different. Not relief, precisely, but a sense of familiarity, at least. Belonging, even.

A calm came over her. The anger settled.

Then questions began to arise.

How were these plants even alive? There was light, but it couldn’t be from the sun, so where was it coming from?

There were lamps along the walls, just like the rest of Library, but there was one in particular--a suspended orb, brighter than all the rest combined. It was difficult even to look at, making her squint. Oddly enough, her previous mutations helped a bit, because one of them had obscured her vision slightly, adding a splotchy filter over her pupils that usually made it harder for her to see, not easier.

But here, the faint tint that it provided allowed her to see the orb’s shape despite its brightness--as well as the fact that it was hanging on a thin rod from the ceiling.

Her attention didn’t stay on that for very long, though. She could worry about it later. Right now, she only cared about the flora.

The green.

There wasn’t much. It was a modest chamber. But it was something.

And there was a tree. A real, live tree. A few shrubs. No sunflowers or roses, unfortunately. Or any flowers at all, apparently. But oh well. The tree alone was enough for her, right now. And the grass between her toes. She was abruptly glad that she’d gotten into the habit of meditating without shoes or socks on.

This tree, though. What was it? Smooth white bark. Large green leaves. Birch? Hmm. It seemed like a perfectly normal tree--which made it all the more peculiar, given where it was growing. She had a hard time imaging Gohvis planting this thing, so perhaps one of Gohvis’ followers was responsible?

She recalled seeing a beetle-man roaming around, from time to time. Even though she’d never actually spoken to him, this somehow felt like it might be his doing. That guess was probably wrong, though.

Chergoa was saying something, but Emiliana wasn’t listening. The feel of the bark on her palm was too important, right now.

Because despite everything else, despite the anger leaving her and returning to her mind, she still felt the pressing desire to harness her mutation power. Proactively. Properly.