Transcript
In the Lost Garden grows a single flower: it never wilts, yet waiting. They say it holds the essence of life itself. A breath unbroken. A youth unending. But the Bloom is not a gift — it is a bargain. Those who touch it may gain vitality, but lose the weight of memory. Those who guard it may preserve beauty, but carry endless solitude. The flower stands untouched, its cost too great, its glow too near.