Chapter 20: Seeds of Tomorrow
I woke to the scent of rain on young leaves.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy of the newborn Worldroot tree, dappling the moss-covered ground where I lay. My chest ached—not with pain, but with the absence of the sapling that had lived there for so long.
(Worldroot Symbiosis: 15% → Stable)
(System Alert: Terraform Protocols Dormant - Manual Activation Required)
Joren snored beside me, his flame-marked arms curled around a cluster of emerald buds. Lina was already awake, her fingers tracing the bark of the young tree.
"They're calling it the Mercy Tree," she murmured. "The survivors."
I sat up slowly. My body felt lighter, the remaining roots under my skin dormant but present. The quartz eye still saw too much—the slow pulse of the tree's growth, the whispers of the mountain's dreams, the faint shadow of the petrified spirit curled in the highest branches.
(Rot Vision Adjustment: Decay/Regrowth Balance Visualized)
A rustling came from beyond the clearing. My mother stepped through the undergrowth, her Verdant Dawn robes replaced by simple traveler's garb. The sapling scar on her chest peeked above her collar, its leaves trembling as she approached.
"You're awake." Her voice was softer than I remembered.
Joren jerked upright, flames sparking to life in his palms before he blinked them out. "Still not used to you not trying to kill us."
She ignored him, kneeling to place a hand against the Worldroot's trunk. "It's growing faster than expected."
(Earth Sense: Root Expansion - 2.3 Miles/Day)
Lina hefted her seed pouch. "We should start distributing these before—"
A shout cut her off. One of the surviving Verdant Dawn scouts crashed into the clearing, his face ashen.
"Eclipse remnants," he gasped. "West ridge. They're—"
A sound like cracking bone echoed in the distance.
I knew that sound.
(Memory Match: Root Fracture - Eclipse Hybridization Attempt)
The valley below was a nightmare of half-formed creatures.
Twisted amalgamations of root and flesh staggered through the ruins of the Verdant Dawn outpost. Some still wore tattered robes, their faces frozen in silent screams as blackened vines pulsed beneath their skin. Others were barely recognizable as human—walking thickets of thorns with too many jointed limbs.
(Rot Vision Analysis: Incomplete Purification - 62% Eclipse Corruption)
Joren's flames turned sickly green at the edges. "I thought we ended this."
My mother's sapling scar darkened. "The Grand Elder's experiments ran deeper than we knew."
A child's whimper carried on the wind. Near the collapsed watchtower, a girl no older than six crouched behind a shattered cart, her arms wrapped around something small and writhing.
Lina moved before I could speak, her wind carrying her down the slope in a blur. By the time the nearest hybrid turned, she was already there—scooping the child into her arms as her free hand unleashed a whirlwind of seeds.
They struck the hybrids like buckshot, sprouting on impact. Tiny roots burrowed into corrupted flesh, seeking the Eclipse cores.
(Purification Progress: 18% Effective)
It wasn't enough.
The largest hybrid—a monstrous thing with bark-plated shoulders and too many mouths—laughed as the seeds shriveled against its hide.
"Little gardener," it rasped in a voice that wasn't human. "You cannot weed us all."
I knew that voice.
(Vocal Pattern Match: Branded Instructor - Presumed Deceased)
The child in Lina's arms sobbed. "It's my brother! He's still in there!"
The thing she'd been shielding uncoiled—a tiny root-serpent with one human eye.
(Soul Rot Revelation: Partial Reversion Possible)
My mother stepped forward, her scar pulsing. "We need the tree."
The walk back nearly broke us.
The child—Elara—refused to release her brother's corrupted form, even as the tiny root-serpent bit her arms bloody. Lina carried them both, her wind keeping pace despite the extra weight. Joren's flames carved a path through the thickening undergrowth, their usual roar dampened to a wary crackle.
(Alert: Eclipse Corruption Spread - 1.2 Miles from Worldroot)
The Mercy Tree stood sentinel at the valley's heart, its branches now heavy with golden fruit. The petrified spirit watched from above, her wooden face frozen in what might have been sorrow.
I pressed my palms to the trunk.
"Help us."
The mountain answered.
(Worldroot Communion: Symbiosis Temporarily Boosted - 15% → 38%)
Bark crawled up my arms as knowledge flooded my mind—not memories this time, but understanding.
(Ability Awakened: Triage Blossom - Temporary Corruption Stabilization)
The fruit above us pulsed. One detached, landing softly in my hands. Its rind split at my touch, revealing not seeds, but sap—thick and gold and singing with potential.
"Bring him."
Elara sobbed as Lina pried the root-serpent from her grip. The moment I dripped sap onto its head, the change began:
- Thorns retracted into smooth bark
- Distorted eye regained human whites
- Fanged maw softened into a child's lips
(Purification Progress: 71% - Residual Corruption Requires Ongoing Treatment)
The boy collapsed into his sister's arms, gasping. His fingers were still tipped with tiny roots, his pupils slit like a cat's—but he was *himself*.
Joren exhaled sharply. "We can save them."
My mother touched her scar. "Not without cost."
Above us, the Mercy Tree shuddered. One of its golden leaves turned brown and fell.
(Warning: Each Purification Drains Worldroot Vitality)
We gathered at dusk—survivors from both sides, their faces gaunt with exhaustion and hope.
The Verdant Dawn remnants stood apart at first, their jade robes muddied but still marking them as separate. That changed when an elder I didn't recognize stepped forward, pressing his forehead to the tree's roots.
"We were wrong," he said simply.
The silence that followed was broken only by Elara's brother whimpering in her lap, his tiny root-fingers clutching her sleeve.
Lina unshouldered her seed pouch, spilling its contents onto a flat stone. "These need planting. Not just here—everywhere."
(Seed Analysis: Adaptive Growth Potential - 89% Viability)
Joren lit a torch with green-flamed hands. "I'll scout the worst zones."
My mother surprised me then. She knelt beside the Verdant Dawn elder, her scar pulsing as she spoke. "The outposts still standing—we can convert them to healing sanctuaries."
(Diplomacy Check: Success - Former Enemies Cooperating)
All eyes turned to me.
The quartz eye showed me possible futures—some bright, most bleak. The roots in my skin hummed with the mountain's patience. The system, dormant but not gone, waited for my choice.
I reached up and plucked a single golden fruit.
"We start at dawn."
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To Be Continued...