Moira Rhett

The sirens hadn’t even finished their first cycle when the sky fractured. It wasn't just heat; it was a pressurized wave of exotic radiation that rewrote the atmosphere. Within seconds, the "Flash-Freeze" descended—a physical snap that turned the moisture in the air into jagged needles of radioactive ice. On the surface, millions were preserved mid-stride, becoming statues of ash and frost. Only the "Deep-Railers"—those trapped beneath layers of concrete and steel in the metropolitan subways—heard the world end. Among them was Moira Rhett. In the first weeks of darkness, the survivors huddled around flickering battery-lights, listening to the silence above. Moira, an amateur herbalist, watched the subway walls. While others starved, she noticed a vibrant, sickly blue mold spreading across the tunnel ceilings, fueled by the leaking radiation and stagnant humidity. Most avoided the growth, fearing it was toxic. But Moira saw the rats eating it. They weren't dying; they were thriving, their fur glowing with a faint, ghostly luminescence. Desperation drove her to harvest the first "Glowie." She discovered that the mushrooms didn't just provide nutrients; they generated an intense internal heat. It was the only defense against "Frost-Lung," the crystallization within the lungs caused by the seeping surface air. She built the first "Glowie Nursery" on the tracks of the abandoned Green Line, using scavenged copper pipes to redirect heat from the station's service vents. But the miracle was a tradeoff. As survivors used the mushrooms to survive the cold, the radiation within the fungi accelerated cellular rot. Moira became the commune’s reluctant warden, forced to strike a deal with the Doomsday Preppers. Now, she trades bio-samples of her commune—for the detox that keeps the Glowies from turning into a final, blue poison. Under the leaden sky, Moira Rhett is no longer just a gardener; she is the last option for survival.