The massive trunk of the divine tree loomed like a pillar of creation itself.
Vines as thick as mountains coiled around Zane's body, binding his arms, legs, torso—layer after layer of living restraint. Only his head remained visible, tilted slightly as if he were merely resting against a wall rather than imprisoned by a structure the size of a continent.
The six gods hovered before him.
Thalira stood at the front now, no longer exhausted. The faint fatigue that had weighed on her moments ago was gone; her posture was steady, her divine aura full and calm again. The leaves of the colossal tree pulsed softly behind her, as if breathing with her.
Zane looked at her, then at the vines wrapped around him.
"…Oh," he said quietly.
The gods watched.
Zane shifted his shoulders slightly, testing the restraint. The vines didn't move.
He glanced at his own hands—what little he could see of them through the bindings—and then gave a small, understanding nod.
"Now I see," he said.
