Two hundred survivors? No. There were perhaps a hundred in sight. And they were… changed.
Not just corrected. Transformed.
A woman with skin like polished jade tended a garden of glowing fungi. A man with feathers instead of hair preened his wings—actual wings, feathered and functional. A group practiced combat with weapons that seemed grown from their own bodies.
They moved with a grace, a certainty, that the desperate survivors outside lacked. They weren't just surviving here. They were… thriving.
Analysis: These are not new arrivals. They are long-term residents. The Heart Tree is not a finish line. It is a training ground.
A man approached him. He looked mostly human, but his eyes were solid gold, with no pupil or iris. "New blood. Welcome to the Grove-City. I'm Elias, one of the stewards."
"Stewards?"
"Those who help new arrivals adjust." Elias smiled. It reached his golden eyes, which was unnerving. "You passed the Guardian's evaluation. That means the Tree sees potential in you. Come, you'll be assigned quarters and given orientation."
"What about my companions?"
"If they pass, they'll join you. If not…" Elias shrugged. "The grove reclaims all things, eventually."
He led Kai up a spiral walkway. The wood felt warm, alive beneath his feet. They passed other residents—Kai couldn't call them humans anymore. One had legs reverse-jointed like a deer, another had hands with six delicate fingers weaving what looked like light itself into fabric.
"What is this place?" Kai asked.
"The first step," Elias said. "The Guardian called it sanctuary, yes? But sanctuary from what? From the grove? From the Mending?" He shook his head. "No. This is sanctuary from your old self. From the broken thing you were before. Here, you become what you were meant to be."
They reached a small alcove grown into the wall. Inside was a bed of soft moss, a basin of continuously flowing water, and a niche holding several of the luminous fruits.
"Your room. Rest. When your companions arrive—if they arrive—you'll be summoned for orientation." Elias turned to leave, then paused. "One piece of advice. The Tree provides, but it also observes. Everything you do here is part of your evaluation. The Mending never stops."
Alone, Kai sat on the moss bed. It conformed to his shape, emitting a gentle, soothing warmth. He should have felt relief. Safety.
Instead, he felt a deep, unsettling wrongness.
He touched the wall. Living wood. He reached out with his ability, trying to sense… something. Anything.
And the Tree reached back.
It wasn't a voice. It was an awareness, vast and ancient and utterly alien. It noticed his probe. Not with hostility, but with curiosity. Like a scientist observing an interesting bacterium under a microscope.
Then it showed him something.
A memory, but not his own.
He saw a city, but unlike any he knew. Towers grown from crystal, vehicles that moved on beams of light, people whose bodies were works of art and function combined. A civilization at its peak.
Then, the stagnation. Centuries of peace, of comfort, of no challenge. Evolution stopped. Innovation became repetition. The species grew soft, bored, directionless.
They built the Mending themselves. A last, desperate gamble to force evolution to continue. To become more than they were. Or to die trying.
The vision faded. Kai was breathing hard, his heart pounding.
The Mending wasn't an invasion. It wasn't a punishment from aliens or gods.
It was suicide. With a chance of rebirth.
And they—the survivors, the corrected, the Broken—were the lab rats of a civilization that chose to die rather than stagnate.
A chime sounded, melodic and soft. Elias's voice echoed through the chamber somehow. "Kai Mori. Your companions have been evaluated. Please come to the central chamber."
Kai found the central chamber at the very heart of the Tree's base. It was a round space, the floor a mosaic of different colored mosses. The Guardian stood in the center. Around the edges, perhaps thirty new arrivals stood, looking dazed and uncertain. Among them, Lena and Anya.
Lena's eyes found his. She gave a small, relieved smile. Anya just looked wary.
Vex was there too, with only five of her original ten. She met Kai's gaze and gave a slight nod. They'd made it.
The Guardian spoke, its leafy voice filling the chamber. "You have reached sanctuary. You have passed the first true filter of the Mending. Be proud. Of the one thousand and three who began, you are the 189 who remain."
Population: 189/1,003
The number was a punch to the gut. Over eight hundred dead in 24 hours. A slaughterhouse efficiency.
"But understand," the Guardian continued, "this is not an end. It is a beginning. The Heart Tree is a place of learning, of growth, of becoming. Here, you will master your corrections. You will learn the history of the Mending. You will prepare for what comes next."
"What comes next?" a man in the crowd called out.
"The next arena," the Guardian said simply. "And the one after that. The Mending is a spiral, not a line. Each cycle refines you. Each challenge reveals new broken parts to be fixed. Until you are either perfected… or pruned."
A murmur of fear ran through the group.
"You will be assigned mentors. You will train. You will contribute to the Grove-City. In return, you receive protection, sustenance, and purpose." The Guardian's blank face seemed to survey them all. "Your old lives are gone. Your old selves are gone. What you build here is what you will become. Choose wisely."
It ended the audience by stepping back and merging with the wall, becoming just another pattern in the living wood.
Elias and several other stewards began assigning mentors. Kai watched as Lena was paired with the jade-skinned woman from the garden. Anya went with a combat instructor whose arms were two polished blades of bone.
Vex was approached by Elias himself. "Your thermal regulation is… exceptional. I'll be your mentor."
Then Elias came to Kai. "And you. The predictive Broken. Your mentor has requested you specifically."
"Who?"
"Follow me."
He led Kai up, higher than before, to a platform near the very top of the hollow trunk. This space was different—sparser, with no furnishings except a single mat. And on it sat a man.
He looked… normal. Completely, utterly human. No visible corrections. He wore simple clothes of woven plant fiber. He was middle-aged, with kind eyes and a calm presence. He smiled as Kai entered.
"Kai. I've been waiting for you. I'm Alistair."
Kai's ability scanned him automatically. And hit a wall.
Analysis: Inconclusive. Subject shows no biological deviations. No thermal anomalies. No enhanced musculature. Threat level: Unreadable.
That was impossible. Everyone here was corrected. Even the stewards had visible changes.
"You're not like the others," Kai said.
"Perceptive." Alistair gestured for him to sit. "I'm what the system calls a Null. A zero. I passed through the tutorial without accepting a single correction. Not one."
"How?"
"By understanding the game better than it understood me." Alistair's eyes held a deep, unsettling wisdom. "The Mending tries to fix what's broken. But what if you're not broken? What if you're exactly what you're supposed to be?"
Kai sat, wary. "The Guardian said Broken adaptations are deviations."
"Deviations from a plan. But who made the plan?" Alistair leaned forward. "The ones who built the Mending were perfect, by their own definition. And they were so perfect they chose to die. So maybe perfection is the problem. Maybe deviation is the point."