ROOTS

The smell of earth was real.

For the first time in months, Liam stood with his boots in the dirt.

No holograms. No neon glow. Just open sky and silence.

The land stretched for miles. It was raw — overgrown with weeds, broken fencing, and rusted silos half-buried in vines. Most people saw ruin.

Liam saw potential.

He had flown here privately. No press. No announcement. Not even Jax knew.

Just a quiet property in the middle of nowhere, far from Blackwood's skyline.

He knelt and touched the soil.

Dry. Cracked. But beneath the surface? Still alive.

His interface blinked softly behind his glasses.

[New Business Opportunity Available]

Title: Start an Agricultural Restoration Project

Objective: Build a self-sustaining organic farming initiative focused on food access, sustainability, and rural job creation

Reward: Territory License Expansion + Permanent Food Infrastructure + Generational Impact Bonus

He tapped Accept.

And smiled.

This wasn't about tech.

This was about roots.

Three days later, Jax finally found him.

"You bought a farm?" he asked, standing under the unfinished archway of the gate.

"No," Liam replied, walking past him. "I started a future."

He handed Jax a folder.

Inside were blueprints.

But not digital ones.

Hand-sketched diagrams. Dirt-flow mapping. Water conservation systems. Crop rotation layouts. Worker housing with sunlight angles drawn out.

Jax stared. "You… drew this?"

"I wanted to remember what it feels like to build without a screen."

"Bro, this is… huge."

"It has to be."

He pointed to a section labeled ROOTS INITIATIVE.

A project with three layers:

Restoring old farmland using sustainable practices

Hiring locals with living wages and ownership models

Distributing food directly to underserved areas through GENESIS channels

"You're building a farm," Jax said, almost in disbelief.

"A network of farms," Liam corrected. "Community-owned. Fully organic. No middlemen. No chemicals. No greed."

Jax flipped the page. "These are distribution routes."

Liam nodded. "We use existing delivery lines. Same logistics that move hardware from Aetherium — they'll move produce too."

Jax looked up. "Why this? After all the digital empires?"

Liam looked out at the land.

"Because people can't eat a download."

ROOTS INITIATIVE launched quietly.

No influencers. No ad campaigns. Just workers and machines rolling onto neglected land.

Locals from nearby towns lined up outside the gates.

Not for handouts.

For jobs.

They signed contracts that made them stakeholders, not employees. Every hour they worked, they earned shares in the crop yield. Ownership. Respect.

Liam walked the fields with them.

Listened to their stories.

Fixed irrigation lines himself.

When the first crops bloomed — wild greens, potatoes, herbs — he didn't post a photo.

He cooked.

Inside a temporary kitchen by the orchard, Liam made meals from the harvest with his own hands. No chefs. No cameras. Just a dozen workers and real food.

One of the older men, a mechanic named Arlo, said something between bites.

"Didn't think rich folk ever got dirt on their hands anymore."

Liam didn't respond.

He just passed him another bowl.

News eventually got out.

But by then, ROOTS had spread to four locations — Korril's southern plains, the high meadows of Eldra, the dry flats of Sarellin, and even rooftop gardens in Varnith's megacities.

Each one followed the same model:

60% of food went to local communities

20% was donated to GENESIS-backed school cafeterias

20% was sold to fund expansion

No ads.

Just results.

A mother posted a photo of her child holding a fresh tomato, the first real vegetable he'd eaten in weeks.

A boy recorded a video picking wild mint and adding it to his water because "that's how Mr. Miller said it's good for the brain."

And across the network?

Silence.

Because no one had anything bad to say.

There were no politics.

No scandals.

Just food.

And dignity.

Inside the GENESIS control center, ORION delivered the first growth report.

"ROOTS INITIATIVE has restored 3,214 acres. Employed 9,300 workers. Delivered 2.8 million meals."

Liam nodded.

Then whispered, "Not enough."

SERA chimed in. "Would you like to connect ROOTS to Genius Academy for student nutrition programs?"

"Yes."

"And to ARCADIA for virtual farm exploration modules?"

"Yes."

"And to RESONANCE for plant-based sound therapy?"

Liam paused.

Then smiled.

"Yes."

And just like that, ROOTS became more than food.

In ARCADIA, players could visit virtual farms based on real-world layouts. They could plant, harvest, and learn — then request to tour the real versions in person.

In RESONANCE, new soundscapes used real forest recordings, birdsong, wind through kale leaves. Tracks titled "Sunset Over Soil" and "Rain On Rosemary" topped the new "Rootwave" genre.

In Genius Academy, food was no longer a side note. It was part of the curriculum.

Students learned where ingredients came from.

They grew their own.

Some even started local gardens inspired by ROOTS maps.

And all of it tied back into GENESIS.

Jax returned one evening, holding a paper.

"Unity Board is begging to give you a humanitarian award."

"No."

"Okay, but listen, bro—"

"I said no."

Liam wasn't building for awards.

He was building so no one had to go to bed hungry.

And yet, despite the peace… SYGMA activated again.

[New File Created]

This time, it wasn't text.

It was an image.

A sketch.

A single sapling — drawn in rough charcoal — planted beneath a tower of circuits.

A sentence was etched beneath it:

"You're building roots in concrete."

Liam stared at it for a long time.

Then added it to the ROOTS mission banner.

He didn't care if the source was strange.

The message was true.

And the work wasn't done.