It is a consensus regardless of sect that no botanical species persists this close to the firmament. Before the de-industrialization the old rigs had recorded the depths of these dunes at their valleys at a measure of seventeen persons, one can only imagine how much deeper they must be this era. To say that, this garden persists as the only green for miles, this is an Eden of unnatural circumstances. The room is light and flood from the hazy skylights, cascading down through the forest of suspended substrate intravenous units. Square sacks connected in rows of lattice, quilts of edibles devolved down to their most aggressively growing and basic units. All water and excess recycles here, becomes new, just as your actions this day will bring forward the next Triumpherate. The room is awash with green, and despite this traditional botanicals collect in the traditional terracottas, in corners and bolted to the walls of this place. In the center sits an octagonal vitrine of the children of all things in this room, there must be an Asteraceae and vessel within. Necessary to perform the rites of the summoning. Beyond in the corners opening back into the cloister, and off the far wall two entrances deeper into the complex, faint music emanates from the right of these.

I have to collect the substrate with the essence of the firmament so the vessel appears like him…