The Heart Tree's orientation began at dawn, but not as Kai expected.
There was no gathering in the central chamber. Instead, a soft, woody tendril emerged from the wall next to his moss bed, bearing a single, dewdrop-like sphere of sap. When he touched it, knowledge flowed directly into his mind:
Proceed to the Root Convergence. Follow the blue moss.
He stepped from his alcove. The spiral walkways were alive with motion as other new arrivals received similar instructions. They moved with a mix of awe and apprehension, their corrected forms a gallery of the Mending's artistry—and its horrors.
Lena found him on the main thoroughfare. Her jade-skinned mentor had given her a belt of living vines that cinched at her waist, the ends tipped with delicate buds that opened and closed like tiny mouths. "They're symbiotic," she explained, touching one gently. "They filter toxins and can secrete healing compounds. Elara says I have an affinity for biological systems."
Kai's ability analyzed the belt: Living medical tool. Efficiency rating: high. Risk of over-dependence on external symbiont: moderate.
"Where's Anya?" he asked.
"Already at the Convergence with her combat group. She said Vex's people staked a claim on the eastern training grounds."
They followed the trail of blue moss, which glowed with its own faint light, down into the lower reaches of the Tree. The air grew cooler, damper, rich with the scent of deep earth and growing things. The sound of dripping water echoed.
The Root Convergence was not a room, but a cavern where the Heart Tree's great taproots plunged into the darkness below. The roots themselves were colossal, each larger than a subway tunnel, their surfaces etched with glowing patterns that pulsed slowly. In the center of the space, a pool of crystal-clear water reflected the bioluminescence from above.
About sixty new arrivals stood around the pool. The rest of the 189 were presumably elsewhere, being oriented in different groups based on their corrections.
Anya stood with Vex and four others from their canopy group. She gave Kai a tight nod. Across the pool, Silas stood with a dozen of his conscripts, his gaze already calculating, assessing the competition.
A figure emerged from behind one of the great roots. It was Elias, his golden eyes catching the light. "Welcome to the Garden of Echoes," he said, his voice carrying easily in the cavern. "This is where you will take your first true step into understanding the Mending."
He gestured to the pool. "The water is a neural conduit. It connects to the Heart Tree's memory—and to the memories of every being who has ever reached this point and moved on. You will enter. You will experience an echo of a past trial. And you will learn."
A man near the front, his skin patterned like cracked desert earth, spoke up. "Learn what?"
"Why you survived when so many others did not," Elias said simply. "The Mending is not random cruelty. It is a sculptor. You are the marble. The echoes will show you the shape you are being carved into."
He pointed to Silas. "You. First."
Silas didn't hesitate. He stepped to the edge of the pool, then waded in until the water reached his chest. He submerged completely.
For a moment, nothing. Then the pool's surface began to shimmer, showing not reflections, but images. Scenes played out on the water like a projection:
A younger Silas in a boardroom, orchestrating a hostile takeover. His face showed not triumph, but boredom.
Silas on a mountain climb, pushing past a struggling companion to reach the summit first.
Silas in the grove during the tutorial, coolly ordering the disposal of the "unworthy."
The images showed a throughline: a relentless drive for efficiency, for control, for optimization. A man who saw people as resources and emotions as liabilities long before the system corrected him.
Silas emerged from the water, gasping. His expression was unsettled, as if he'd seen something he didn't like about himself—or something he liked too much.
"Next," Elias said.
One by one, they entered the pool. Each experienced a different echo, tailored to their nature.
A woman whose correction gave her chameleon skin saw flashes of a life spent hiding, conforming, never standing out. The system had made her ability literal.
A man with enhanced strength saw moments of powerlessness—bullied as a child, unable to protect a loved one. His correction was an answer to that helplessness.
When Lena entered, the pool showed her as a nurse, working double shifts, taking on others' pain until she collapsed. It showed her crying in a hospital stairwell, then drying her tears and going back to her patients. It showed her in the grove, reaching for Kai despite her own fear. The throughline was clear: a protector, to the point of self-destruction.
She emerged trembling. "It knows," she whispered to Kai. "It knows everything we are."
Then it was Kai's turn.
He waded into the water. It was colder than he expected, with a slight electric tingle. He took a breath and submerged.
Darkness.
Then, not images, but data.
He saw his own life not as memories, but as interconnected nodes of cause and effect:
Childhood: A preference for puzzles over people. High analytical aptitude. Social connections: few but deep. Node classification: Solitary intellect.
Adulthood: Career in data analysis. Excelled at pattern recognition. Failed at office politics. Node classification: Efficient but non-collaborative.
*The Breaking: The moment the sky cracked. His reaction: analysis first, panic second. Survival probability self-calculation initiated within 3.2 seconds. Node classification: Predisposed to systemic adaptation.*
Then he saw the echoes of others like him. Not specific people, but archetypes:
The Broken Strategist: A man who could simulate battles so perfectly he won wars without fighting, but lost the ability to see soldiers as human.
The Broken Empath: A woman who could feel others' emotions so acutely she could manipulate nations, but eventually drowned in the collective pain and asked the grove to take her.
The Broken Prophet: One who saw probabilities so far ahead they became paralyzed by choice, and simply… stopped choosing.
These were the paths of the predictive Broken. Each ended in a different kind of isolation. A different kind of death.
The data stream ended with a question, not from the Tree, but from the system itself, encoded in the echo:
QUERY: WHAT IS THE OPTIMAL OUTCOME FOR SUBJECT KAI MORI?
OPTION A: FULL CORRECTION. INTEGRATE PREDICTIVE ABILITIES INTO STANDARD COGNITIVE ENHANCEMENT PACKAGE. RESULT: EFFICIENT SOLDIER.
OPTION B: FULL BROKEN EVOLUTION. ALLOW DEVIATION TO PROCEED. RESULT: UNPREDICTABLE VARIABLE.
OPTION C: TERMINATION. PRUNE DEVIATION BEFORE IT SPREADS.
The question hung in the digital void. And Kai realized this wasn't just an echo. It was a test. The system was watching his reaction right now.
He answered not with words, but with a concept, pushing it back through the connection:
I am not a subject. I am not a deviation. I am Kai. And I choose Option D: My own path.
The connection shattered.
Kai burst from the water, gasping, his heart hammering against his ribs. The electric tingling was now a full-body ache. The other survivors stared at him—his echo had been different. The pool hadn't shown images. It had remained dark, but the water had churned as if boiling.
Elias's golden eyes were wide. "What did you see?"
"The system's options for me," Kai said, his voice raw. "It's deciding whether to correct me, let me break further, or kill me."
A murmur of fear ran through the group. If the system could terminate them here, in "sanctuary," then nowhere was safe.
Silas's voice cut through the anxiety. "Then the solution is obvious. Become too valuable to terminate. Prove that your Broken ability is an asset to the collective." He looked at Kai with that calculating gaze. "Join my team. I'll ensure the system sees your value."
Vex stepped forward, heat shimmering around her. "Or join mine. I won't treat you like a tool in a box. But I will make sure you survive."
They were all watching him—Silas's group, Vex's, Lena and Anya, the others. The choice was here, now, forced by the echo.
Kai looked at the pool, still churning slightly. The system was listening. Maybe always listening.
He made his choice.