From the ashes of near-harvest came something unexpected: beauty that defied cosmic predators.
Alexia stood at the center of what the survivors had begun calling the Second Renaissance—a flowering of art, philosophy, and culture born from the collective trauma of almost being consumed. Where the ancient harvesters' signal had torn through reality, new forms of expression bloomed like flowers in radioactive soil.
In the Academy's reconstructed halls, she watched beings paint with liquefied emotion, their brushes trailing colors that existed only in the space between heartbeats. Musicians composed symphonies that played across dimensional barriers, each note resonating in the consciousness of listeners thousands of realities away. Philosophers debated the nature of existence while their thoughts took physical form around them, creating gardens of living ideas.
