Vergo breathed quietly under the twin moons, unaware that its heartbeat was about to falter. For three months, Roy had been refined in the High Canopy Proving Grounds—sharpened, disciplined, and focused. But preparation is not prophecy. The storm arrived without thunder—only a suffocating silence.
1. The Blight of the Lattice
The alarm bells rang not with sound, but with color. The glowing vines of Vergo dimmed to a sickly, dull gray. A strange film spread across the lattice-trees like frostbite. The Faelis healers gathered in a panic, their tails lashing and ears pinned flat.
Roy sprinted into the Elder Grove, Lyra close behind, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Seris!" he shouted. "Seris, what's happening?"
Seris knelt beside an Elder whose once-golden fur was turning brittle and bone-white. Her voice trembled with a rare, jagged fear. "The Lattice Virus… it's awakened."
Lyra gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "But didn't you say that strain was only theoretical?"
"It was," Seris whispered, her eyes tracking the gray rot. "This… this feels engineered. It feeds on our specific resonance frequency."
A child collapsed nearby, tiny paws clutching their chest as their internal glow flickered. "Mama… my light hurts…"
Roy nearly lunged forward, but Seris's hand clamped onto his wrist like a vice. "Don't touch them! The virus travels through Flux resonance. One wrong pulse from your core and you'll accelerate the rot."
Roy knelt, his voice dropping into a low, steady command. "Seris. Look at me. What is the reversal?"
Seris swallowed hard. "There is only one ancient race that might know a cure… but they haven't spoken to outsiders in centuries. The Dendron. The Tree Tribe of the Tera Storm Forest."
Taro arrived, his tablet flickering red. "Vergo's entire energy grid is collapsing. If the vines die, the city collapses with them. We have hours, Roy. Maybe less."
2. Into the Tera Storm Forest
The deeper they walked, the more unnatural the forest felt. The air grew metallic, the mist tasting like cold rain on iron. Every vine pulsed like a vein under skin, watching them.
Taro checked his device, his fingers shaking. "I'm getting neural interference. The mist is… mapping our brainwaves."
Jean snorted, though her flames flickered nervously. "Great. A stalking forest. Just what we needed."
Suddenly, the floor groaned. Massive roots shifted behind them with a low, tectonic rumble. Lyra froze, her hand gripping her water-blade hilt. "Guys… the path just moved. It closed the way back."
Kira swung her shield up, her stance wide. "It's rearranging the world around us?!"
"The forest tests intent," Seris hissed, her fur bristling. "Stay close—"
From the silver mist ahead, they emerged: the Dryads. Their mahogany skin shimmered like polished bark, and their hair shifted like autumn leaves in windless air. They did not walk; they simply manifested. Their voices overlapped, echoing directly inside the group's minds:
"Storm-born children. Why do you trespass?"
Roy stepped forward, his pulse shifting to the calm, rhythmic "Whisper" he had practiced for months. "Vergo is dying. The Lattice Virus is killing children. We need the Dendron's cure."
One Dryad tilted her head, her eyes like swirling amber. "You carry many storms. Academy storms. Umbryon storms. Rage storms."
"I'm not here as a weapon," Roy replied.
"Not yet," another Dryad whispered.
"Judge me all you want," Roy said, his voice hardening. "But let us pass. Every second we stand here, a child in Vergo fades."
3. The Trial of Illusions
The mist exploded into motion. Bark reshaped into towering walls, splitting the team apart. Roy reached for Lyra—his fingers grazing hers—before she vanished behind twisting vines.
"LYRA!"
No response. The air warped. The illusions struck.
Jean's Illusion: She stood in her childhood village, flames consuming every roof. "No… not again!" she screamed, her Pyrrion flames sputtering. A familiar voice echoed: "Jean… why didn't you save us?" She collapsed, her fire turning to ash.
Kira's Illusion: Her shield, her pride, cracked down the center and fell apart like brittle glass. "I'm nothing without it…" she whispered, looking at her empty hands.
Roy's Illusion: A shadow materialized—Zorga. His fanged grin was maddening. "The lightning rat thinks he's grown." Zorga ripped into Roy's chest with horrifying realism.
But Roy didn't scream. He looked at the claw in his chest and smirked. "You talk too much. The real Zorga doesn't waste time on monologues."
The illusion snarled. Roy's voice suddenly boomed, vibrating through the realm: "TEAM! STOP FIGHTING! BREATHE!"
Roy dropped to one knee. No weapons. No powers. Just the Vergo Breath. He imagined roots growing from his feet—dissolving hostility, inviting harmony. The forest responded. The walls cracked. Illusions shattered like glass.
The Dryads stepped out, their wooden bodies bending in a slow, creaking bow. "You did not conquer the forest," they intoned. "You listened. Pass, seekers."
4. The Dendron: The Primordial Trees
The mist parted like curtains, revealing giants of living wood—the Dendron. Their trunks were marked by glowing runes that spiraled upward like constellations. The largest among them, the Elder Root, pulsed with radiant white light.
"We recognize the rot," the Elder Root's voice vibrated in their bones. "It is a Void-Strain parasite. The reversal is not medicine… but a Harmonic Reversal. A Pulsarite Seed."
A crystalline object emerged from the earth, glowing with a fierce, nuclear white energy.
"It must be carried inside a living vessel. Only an SS-core may contain its radiation. One misstep, and the vessel will immolate."
"I'll do it," Roy said immediately.
"Roy, no!" Lyra stepped forward. "The radiation… it'll fuse with you!"
Roy met her eyes. "If I don't, Vergo falls. I'm the only one who can hold it."
5. The Living Antidote
The Elder Root lowered the Seed into Roy's palm. The world exploded into white.
Roy screamed—not from fear, but from the violent, tectonic heat surging through his nervous system. Lyra was blasted backward by a shockwave.
"ROY!"
"His temperature is spiking!" Taro shouted, his glasses cracked. "The Seed is merging with his heart!"
Roy struggled to stand, his body glowing from the inside like molten metal. His veins were rivers of silver light. He forced a breath. He wrapped Umbryon shadows around the Seed as a containment suit. He summoned Zephros winds internally to cool the reaction.
His heart's rhythm synced with the Seed's ancient pulse. The heat stabilized.
"You are a vessel… for now," the Elder Root projected.
Roy exhaled a cloud of shimmering steam. "We have the cure. But we need to move. If this Seed fuses with me permanently, I won't be able to release it. I'll just become…" He looked at his glowing hands. "…a sun that never sets."
They didn't waste another second. They sprinted back toward the forest edge. But as the mist thinned, the temperature plummeted.
Shadows stepped out. Black armor. Corrupted eyes. Neutron-forged blades humming with predatory resonance. The Vane commander stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Roy's radiant chest.
"Well, well," he purred. "The Vessel carries the Seed. Kill the others. Bring me the boy."
Roy's eyes ignited with a silver-white fury. The Seed within him roared, sensing the corruption. He didn't just feel powerful—he felt inevitable.