Dawn in the Heart Tree was not a sunrise, but a gradual brightening of the thousands of luminous fruits hanging in the canopy high above. The soft golden light washed over the teams assembled in the central chamber, catching on crystalline skin, glinting off bone blades, and making the Guardians' wooden forms seem almost warm.
Ten teams stood in a rough circle. One hundred and twenty survivors, each transformed, each carrying the seed-core of their team in a small pouch or clasped in their hand. Kai's team—the Unchosen—stood together, a mismatched assembly that drew curious and dismissive glances from the more polished squads.
Silas's team, which had named themselves "The Optimized," looked like a paramilitary unit. Uniform stances, complementary corrections arranged in tactical formation. Vex's "Ember Guard" radiated controlled heat, their members standing with the casual confidence of predators.
The other seven teams were variations on the themes: two other large, Silas-aligned groups; three smaller, specialist teams focusing on stealth, support, or reconnaissance; and two wildcard teams of fiercely independent survivors who wanted nothing to do with anyone's politics.
The air hummed with tension and the low thrum of the Tree itself.
Alistair stood beside Elias and the other stewards, his normalcy a stark contrast to their corrected forms. He caught Kai's eye and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. The stabilizer was holding—for now.
A Guardian stepped forward, taller than the others, with antlers of living wood branching from its head. "The second arena awaits," it said, its voice like roots grinding stone. "You will be transported. The rules are simple: survive seven days. Retrieve the spire fragment. Return with your team core intact."
"A fragment of what?" someone called out.
"The Spire of Integration," the Guardian said. "A system relic from the First Mending. It holds data. Power. Those who retrieve it gain advantages for the cycles to come."
A holographic map bloomed in the air above the Guardian, projected by glowing pollen it released from its hands. It showed a landscape of jagged, floating islands suspended in a violet sky, connected by frail-looking bridges of crystal and vine. At the center rose a shattered tower—the Spire—its top sheared off, the missing piece presumably the "fragment" they needed.
"The Floating Expanse," the Guardian named it. "Environment: High-altitude, low oxygen. Native threats: Sky predators, territorial flora, and the land itself, which shifts."
"Shifts?" Lena whispered beside Kai.
"The islands move," Kai murmured, his predictive ability already analyzing the map. "Orbital patterns, maybe. The bridges won't always connect the same places."
The Guardian continued: "Teams may compete. May cooperate. May sabotage. The system observes all. Performance metrics: survival rate, fragment retrieval, team cohesion as measured by your core's growth. The top three teams receive resource bonuses and advancement in the Heart Tree's structure."
Meaning: better living quarters, more training resources, more influence.
Silas's smile was thin, satisfied. He'd been built for this kind of competition.
Vex cracked her knuckles, a small flame dancing over her fist before she extinguished it.
"Transport commences," the Guardian said.
The floor beneath them glowed. The living wood of the Heart Tree rippled, and openings spiraled open beneath each team. There was no time to react—they dropped.
The fall was not through air, but through a tunnel of rushing light and distorted sound. Kai's stomach lurched as gravity seemed to reorient itself a dozen times. He glimpsed the other teams tumbling through adjacent streams of light, their forms stretched and blurred.
Then—impact.
Not hard, but sudden. They landed on soft, springy moss in a crouch, the ten of them materializing in a tight circle.
Kai took a breath and immediately coughed. The air was thin, cold, and carried a strange metallic tang. Oxygen level: 78% of standard. Acclimatization recommended.
They were on one of the floating islands. It was roughly the size of a football field, its ground a mixture of moss, exposed rock, and patches of crystalline growth that glittered in the violet light. The edge dropped away into sheer cliff, then empty sky that churned with slow, colorful clouds. Other islands hovered at varying distances, some close enough to jump to with a running start, others impossibly far. The bridges the Guardian had mentioned were visible—delicate-looking spans of glowing crystal and thick, braided vines connecting some of the islands.
And in the distance, at the center of the chaotic archipelago, rose the Spire. It was even more massive up close—a ruin of white stone and integrated technology, its sheared-off top a jagged wound. The fragment they needed would be up there somewhere.
"Status check," Kai said, his voice sounding thin in the low pressure.
The team reported in, each checking their corrections worked in this environment. Rylan covered his enhanced ears. "The wind… it's screaming. But not with sound. With pressure changes. There are things moving in it."
Sera's prismatic eye swirled as she looked around. "Probabilities are… fragmented here. Like the landscape. Too many shifting variables."
Bren immediately took up a defensive position at the island's edge, bone shards extending from his forearms. "Where are the others?"
Kai's predictive ability mapped their likely drop zones based on the dispersion pattern he'd glimpsed during transport. "Silas's team is two islands clockwise. Vex's is one counter-clockwise. The others are scattered."
"So we're not alone here," Anya said, blades out.
"Nowhere near alone," Rylan said, his face pale. "Listen."
They quieted. At first, just the wind—a low, constant moan. Then Kai heard it: a skittering, chittering sound from beneath the moss. Not loud, but everywhere.
The moss rippled.
"Form up!" Kai barked.
They backed into a tight circle just as the first creatures burst from the ground.
They were insectoid, each about the size of a house cat, with six multi-jointed legs and carapaces that mirrored the colors of the moss and crystals—perfect camouflage. Their mouths were circular, ringed with needle teeth, and they moved with alarming speed.
Analysis: Scavenger Swarm - Type. Low individual threat, exponential danger in numbers. Target weakness: sensory clusters on dorsal ridge.
"Go for the backs!" Kai shouted. "The glowing spots!"
The swarm hit them.
Anya became a whirlwind of blades, slicing through three in her first rotation. Bren hurled bone shards with practiced accuracy, each one punching through a carapace with a wet crunch. Taren's scales hardened as several leaped at her, their teeth skittering off the metallic surface. Jax stood firm, letting creatures crash into him and redirecting their momentum into each other or over the cliff edge.
But there were dozens. And more emerging every second.