One day, instead of blue, the sky started raining green, and everything changed. At first, people thought it was just an illusion—maybe a trick of the light that caused them to see it differently or some strange pollution in the clouds which gave the rain that toxicating colourr. But when the first drops hit the ground, they didn’t just splash; they stuck. A thick, viscous liquid, shimmering like melted emerald, gathering around every corner of every street, buildings, and people alike. Nobody knew what to make of it. Scientists scrambled and gathered around to come up with a reasonsble idea for explanations. Was it algae? A new chemical reaction that wasn’t supposed to happen in the atmosphere? A sign from something greater than them? But before they could find answers, the green rain began to grow.
The growth wasn’t in just volume, it was also in life. Wherever the droplets landed, they spread, branching out in delicate veins. At first, they looked like tiny roots stretching across the whole soil. Then they started moving. By nightfall, the city was alive in a way it had never been before. Trees that had never existed before sprouted from sidewalks like babies thinking their parents just marched from a peekaboo, their translucent green leaves glowing like the star on top of a christmas three, faintly. Buildings crumbled, crushed under the weight of thick roots that pulsed with something almost like a heartbeat. Roads cracked, splitting apart as green like moss that has never seen before pushed through the asphalt.
And then came the whispers. These weren’t friendly but in a way that brought shivers of fear down your neck. Not from people—but from the green itself. It rustled in an unnatural way, voices forming from the shivering of leaves and the dripping of liquid. Some people swore they heard their names called. Others claimed the vines reached for them, welcoming them to come closer. Some went willingly. They walked into the forests that used to be their streets and never came back. Others fought. They tried to cut down the glowing trees, burn the creeping moss. But the green was stronger, faster. It had its own mind which learned. Axes rusted in seconds. Fire died before it could spread. The city—no, the world—was no longer theirs. By the time the rain stopped, the skyline had vanished beneath a sea of shiny and a dark green. The last survivors whispered among themselves, fearing the truth that none of them wanted to say out loud. The world had belonged to humans once. Now, it belonged to something else. And it was still growing.