Ethan woke up to the comforting shlump of a recycled air filter and the faint hum of his neural scan band still clamped to his wrist.
No vines.
No fog.
No whispering roots.
Just the sterile ceiling of his dorm pod and the vague feeling that something had been staring at him all night.
It's just stress, he told himself. And possibly too much of eating leftover canteen chili.
He sat up, rubbed sleep from his eyes, and ignored the faint dirt smudge on his shirt collar.
Again.
It had been three days since the anomaly battle.
Three days since the Mirewarden, since Mira's warnings, since Felix Crane made him feel like he was starring in a sci-fi episode.
All Ethan really wanted now was a taste of normal student life.
He got dressed, chowed down a lukewarm nutrient bar, and headed toward the Realm Interface Lab, telling himself today would be different—calmer, duller, quieter.
Mr. Huxley had given him the green light for supervised realm access. The tournament committee had granted a short break. Things were finally settling down, right?
---
The Realm Link chair was cold. The room always smelled faintly of antiseptic and fried wires.
"Ready?" asked the technician, a sleepy-eyed grad student who looked like he hadn't even blinked for many days.
"Yeah," Ethan lied.
The helmet lowered, and instantly, the world blinked into focus.
Then the polluted realm pulsed around him.
________________________________________
The familiar rotten air, the grey sky, the sticky ground underfoot—all of it greeted Ethan like an old, slightly toxic friend. But something felt…off.
For one thing, the central clearing was no longer just a simple open space anymore.
Where Ethan had left a half-built shelter made of sticks and junk, there now stood a strangely neat structure. A Cobblestone base, with wooden walls, and a slanted roof made from rusted sheet metal—was that moss along the sides?
I didn't build that.
Ethan walked closer as his heart started racing.
The walls were reinforced. The floor had been swept clean.
His makeshift tool rack had been… sorted.
And the fog was thin today, like almost inviting.
Okay.
No big deal.
Totally normal for a sapling-level realm to clean up after me.
He hesitated by the door of the strange, upgraded shelter.
Then the root twitched at his feet.
He looked down.
A green vine—not one of his or summoned—coiled loosely over his boot. It wasn't holding him. Just... curling, like a cat demanding for attention.
Ethan gulped.
"Uh. Hello again?"
The vine quivered.
Then slowly, it traced a perfect circle in the dirt.
What the hell?
Ethan's heart was pounding now. "What are you trying to show me?"
Suddenly, the fog surged inward—not to blind him, but to draw his gaze to the eastern edge of his realm. There, beneath the muck, a faint glow shimmered.
No way.
I haven't expanded that far.
He took a shaky step forward, but the vine tugged gently.
He glanced back. The shelter's door was now just slightly open.
And inside… there was something glowing faintly green.
You left me a gift?
Cautiously, Ethan walked into the shelter, ducking beneath the roof. On the old slab of rock that he turned into a workspace—lay a seed.
Small, softly pulsing, wrapped in root threads like it had grown here, not summoned.
Above it, carved into the wooden wall in uneven marks, were the words:
[SEEDLING PROTOCOL – ACCEPTANCE AVAILABLE]
That's… new.
He hadn't triggered or summoned anything.
The realm did.
It's giving me something.
No. It seems to be asking.
His fingers hovered above the seed.
A part of him was screaming to report this.
But another part, quieter and deeper voice just knew..
This seed wasn't a threat.
It was a message.
A… gesture.
----------------------------------------------
[Accept Seedling Protocol?]
[Yes] – [No]
----------------------------------------------
His hand trembled.
Then he clicked [Yes].
The seed vanished.
And the realm—It started to change.
Not dramatically. Not like those epic fantasy scenes where the hero gets some divine boost or something. No, this was more subtle, stranger, and something more natural.
The ground beneath him pulsed gently. The smog drifted back a little—like it was clearing its throat. And somewhere deep beneath the cracked crust of his polluted world, a heartbeat echoed.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
That's not a system effect.
That's not listed anywhere.
Ethan stood frozen inside the shelter, his hand still open where the seed had just vanished. The table was blank again.
No glow. No prompt.
And yet… the air felt different.
It's feel alive and more aware.
"Okay," Ethan whispered. "What did I just agree to?"
Then, from the far side of this strange realm, came a rustling sound.
No it's not wind, It's not a vine summoning itself.
But a natural growth.
Something new was being born in the muck.
________________________________________
Ethan looked outside as the changes were happening before his eyes.
Thinking of something.
He dashed through the swamp, almost tripping over a root that hadn't been there five seconds earlier. The terrain itself was changing—subtly reshaping, soft in some spots, harder in others. Toxic puddles evaporated before his eyes, replaced with cracked patches of moss.
When he reached the far edge of his exploration boundary, he stopped dead in his tracks.
That wasn't here before.
Right in the middle of a shallow basin, where everything had been rot and rust.
There was a tree.
The tree wasn't tall yet. But it looked alive and vibrant. Its bark shimmered with hints of green and gold, and its roots burrowed deep into the polluted soil, almost like it was drinking something ancient.
"Did you grow this?" Ethan asked aloud.
The wind didn't answer. But the ground shivered softly.
It's not just evolving… it's talking back.
With growth.
With structure.
With choices.
He wanted to scan it, but his system interface flickered.
----------------------------------------------
[Warning: Unauthorized evolution detected.]
[Cross-checking with system logs…]
[Error: No matching signature found.]
----------------------------------------------
Ethan swallowed hard.
What if they find out?
What if I tell them… and they try to shut it down?
He knelt beside the tree and touched its bark.
It was warm.
And for just a brief moment—not even a second—he felt something else.
Not emotion.
Not intelligence.
But a kind of recognition.
As if the realm had looked at him… and nodded.
________________________________________
"Hey, there you are."
The voice nearly made him jump out of his boots.
He spun around to see Felix, arms crossed, messy hair tossed by the wind, already suited up.
"Didn't think you'd be back in here so soon," Felix said. "Mira's been pacing around outside like she's buzzing on caffeine."
"I—I was just checking the foundations, making sure the realm's stable after the fight," Ethan mumbled, forcing a smile. "You know how it is."
Felix tilted his head.
"Right. And that tree? Always been there?"
Ethan blinked. "What tree?"
The lie tumbled out before he could stop it.
Felix didn't push. He just stepped closer, eyes scanning the structure of the realm.
Then, quietly: "You know, anomalies are like ripples. They never stay in just one spot. Are you sure this realm hasn't started listening?"
Ethan's mouth went dry. "What makes you say that?"
Felix smiled—just a little too knowingly.
"Because mine never says please when it rearranges stuff."
________________________________________
Back in the real world, the chair hissed as it detached from his neck. Ethan sat there, perfectly still, staring at the ceiling.
Felix was already gone. Mira hadn't come in yet.
And Ethan felt more alone than ever.
But… he wasn't really alone.
Not anymore.
Not with the whisper still echoing faintly in his head:
Grow.
Deepen.
Return.
He rubbed his temple and stood up. Mud still stuck on his hand.
The seed was gone.
But its roots? They were just getting started.