The Spinewood's last breathing corridor narrowed into something that barely resembled a path.
Light twisted through the trees like threads pulled from a torn tapestry—uneven strands of gold and blue flickering between trunks that leaned inward as if listening, straining, mourning. The Pulse that once guided Zerrei through the forest now echoed in fragments, like a broken rhythm trying desperately to remember itself.
The forest was alive.
The forest was dying.
The forest was remembering.
And it remembered him.
Zerrei stumbled as they ran. His legs felt heavier now—not physically, but under the weight of the memories pressing up through the ground and into his Heartglow.
Lyra tightened her grip on his hand. "Zerrei. Eyes on me. Not the ground."
"I'm trying," he gasped. "It keeps—calling."
Arden skidded around a fallen pillar of petrified bark. "THE FOREST IS CALLING HIM? CAN WE ASK IT TO CANCEL THE CALL?!"
"It's not calling to speak," Oren said breathlessly. "It's calling to WARN. The forest is reacting to the Creator's presence."
Vessel Five, running ahead with heavy, thundering steps that kept the collapsing terrain from swallowing the others, snarled low.
"…Creator… pressure… rising…"
"I KNOW!" Arden shouted. "I CAN FEEL THE PRESSURE IN MY STUPID HUMAN SPINE!"
Lyra didn't look back. She couldn't. Every step required absolute focus to keep Zerrei upright while maintaining speed.
"Zerrei," she said, voice steady despite the panic burning around them, "what do you feel from the forest?"
Zerrei shut his eyes for a moment—a mistake.
The forest's memories surged up:
—Roots dripping with silver mana.
—The glow of earlier ages when the Spinewood was whole.
—The Heartwood, pulsing like a second sun.
—The Creator's faint presence in ancient times, observing, testing, manipulating caverns beneath the land.
—A shimmer of a vessel schematic carved into a great root, etched not by the Creator but by the forest itself.
Zerrei gasped and nearly collapsed.
Lyra yanked him back to his feet. "Zerrei—what did you see?"
"It… remembers him," Zerrei whispered. "The Creator was here long before me. Before Vessel Five. Before any vessel."
Oren nearly tripped. "Impossible. The forest predates even recorded arcane civilizations—"
"No," Zerrei said. "He didn't make the forest. He used it."
The ground buckled beneath their feet.
Vessel Five roared, grabbing Zerrei by the torso and hurling him forward to Lyra just as the earth split open where he had been standing.
"…Zerrei… move… danger…"
"Thank you—" Zerrei managed, breathless.
Arden screamed, "CAN THE WORLD STOP BREAKING FOR TEN SECONDS?!"
"No," Oren said, nearly crying. "No it cannot."
Lyra steadied Zerrei again. "Explain. What do you mean he used the forest?"
Zerrei's voice shook as they ran.
"He tested vessel resonance against the Heartwood's mana centuries ago. I saw it. Root memories. He carved into the forest the way he carved into us."
Arden gagged. "That man poked EVERYTHING. He probably tried to dissect the moon."
Oren's voice rose, panic amplifying clarity. "If the Creator has interacted with deep forest resonance before, then the Heartwood imprint in Zerrei is no coincidence—"
Lyra cut him off. "Keep your thoughts simple. We need survival, not theory."
A giant branch fell behind them, cracking the earth like a spear.
Zerrei cried out. "He's pushing farther—he's shaping the forest—forcing it open—"
"Where?" Lyra demanded.
Zerrei pointed ahead weakly. "Toward the place the forest kept hidden. Toward… the old resonance chamber."
Arden skidded to a stop. "WE'RE GOING WHERE HE WANTS US TO GO?!"
Oren exhaled sharply. "We're not going there for him. We're going because the forest is guiding Zerrei there."
Lyra nodded. "Then that's where we go."
Vessel Five straightened, towering over them all. Its claws dug deep into the trembling ground as it scanned ahead.
"…route… unstable… but possible…"
Arden threw his arms out. "Great! 'Unstable but possible'—our new daily motto!"
The world shook again.
This time Zerrei screamed.
White cracks split through the air—thin, spider-webbing fractures of mana as the Creator's influence brushed against this region of forest.
Lyra grabbed Zerrei as his legs gave out.
Oren gasped. "He's touching the mana grid again—he's SHIFTING this region—"
"No," Zerrei whispered, trembling violently. "He's not shifting it. He's calling it."
Lyra flinched. "Calling what?"
Zerrei stared at the cracks in reality.
"Calling the part of the forest that remembers him."
Silence.
Horrifying, breathless silence.
Arden whispered, "The forest remembers him… and still lets him in?"
Zerrei shook his head. "No. It remembers… fear."
The cracks widened.
Light spilled out.
Blue-white, unnatural, pure Creator-mana that the forest desperately tried—and failed—to suppress.
Zerrei's Heartglow spasmed, nearly stalling.
He fell forward, catching himself on both hands.
Lyra knelt beside him, gripping his shoulders. "Zerrei—stay HERE. Stay in the present. You are not in the memories. You are with us."
"I—I feel him touching the cracks," Zerrei gasped. "Not stepping through—just touching them. It's enough to make the forest recoil."
Oren layered a shimmering barrier around the group, though it flickered weakly. "The closer he gets, the harder it becomes for the forest to maintain structure—Zerrei, we HAVE to move!"
Lyra pulled Zerrei to his feet.
"Vessel Five. Take point."
"…understood…"
They continued running north—toward a region the forest had hidden for centuries.
The air grew darker, thicker, heavy with memory and fear.
The golden motes trembling around Zerrei dimmed further.
Lyra frowned. "Zerrei. The lights are fading."
"I know," he whispered. "The forest is losing strength."
Oren tugged at Zerrei's sleeve. "But you're still glowing. How?"
Zerrei placed a hand on his chest.
"I'm not glowing because of the forest anymore. I'm glowing because I choose to be Zerrei."
Lyra exhaled in relief. "Good."
Arden nodded vigorously. "YES. Keep glowing! Glow like the Sun if you have to!"
The ground trembled—a slow, deep vibration that sent birds fleeing overhead in frantic bursts of motion.
Zerrei winced. "He moved again."
Lyra steadied him. "Direction?"
Zerrei swallowed. "Southwest. No—west. No—"
He staggered.
Lyra caught him. "Zerrei!"
Oren ran to them. "His resonance is desynchronizing—his Heartglow is trying to react to too many spatial fluctuations—Creator interference is pulling on more than one anchor point—"
Arden slapped Oren's shoulder. "Simplify!"
"He's TOO CLOSE and using TOO MUCH POWER!"
Vessel Five stepped between Zerrei and a new crack splitting the ground.
"…Creator… pattern… converging…"
Zerrei touched the hunter's arm. "He wants me to go where the forest remembers him. But that's also where the forest remembers me."
"And that's not necessarily bad," Lyra said.
"No," Zerrei whispered. "But it's dangerous."
Ahead, the path widened into a circular clearing.
Zerrei froze at the threshold.
Because the clearing…
…was familiar.
Impossible, but familiar.
The air hummed with echoes.
Soft, golden motes drifted upward from the soil.
A massive root curled around the clearing like an embracing arm.
And beneath the moss—
the faint outline of a symbol Zerrei had seen before:
A Heartglow pattern.
Not of a vessel.
Of the forest.
Lyra inhaled sharply. "What is this place?"
Oren stared in awe. "An ancient resonance cradle… but not built for humans. Built for something else."
Arden frowned. "Something else like… Zerrei?"
Zerrei stepped inside the clearing.
The forest responded immediately.
Golden motes pulsed brighter.
The ground warmed.
The Pulse—broken for so long—returned for a moment as a soft, trembling rhythm.
"Here," Zerrei whispered, lowering himself to his knees. "This is where the forest remembers me."
Lyra knelt beside him. "But you weren't born here."
"No," Zerrei said. "But the first spark of Heartglow existed long before I did. I'm not the first to carry this resonance. I'm the first to survive it."
Oren's eyes widened. "The Creator didn't invent Heartglow. He discovered it."
"Yes," Zerrei whispered. "And he tried to force it into his vessels."
Vessel Five lowered itself beside Zerrei.
"…Zerrei… identity pattern… matching… Heartwood echo…"
Zerrei placed a hand over Vessel Five's core.
"We both were built from stolen resonance."
Arden paled. "He stole FROM THE FOREST?!"
Oren nodded. "He siphoned raw Heartwood mana to power his constructs. That's why vessels are so volatile."
Lyra's voice hardened. "And why Zerrei is different."
Zerrei looked up.
"Because I bonded to the forest instead of collapsing."
A tremor rocked the clearing—hard enough to send dust raining from the roots above.
Zerrei gasped, clutching his chest again. "He's here. Just outside this chamber."
Lyra gripped her sword. "Then we fortify positions."
"No," Zerrei whispered. "We can't fight him yet. But we can use this place."
"What does it do?" Arden asked fearfully.
Zerrei pressed his palms to the soil.
Warmth spread up his arms—soft, steady, unlike the chaotic Pulse beyond.
"It's a stabilizer. For Heartglow. For identity."
"For you?" Lyra asked.
"For us," Zerrei whispered.
Vessel Five trembled as the golden motes drifted toward it.
"…Zerrei… this… hurts…"
Zerrei shook, gripping Vessel Five's arm tightly. "It hurts because your identity is changing."
"…break…?"
"No. No—becoming."
Another tremor.
This one sharper.
Closer.
Personal.
Zerrei felt the air shift.
"He's—"
Before he could finish, Lyra yanked him backward as a line of white light sliced into the clearing—missing Zerrei by inches.
The Creator's voice followed—calm.
"Zerrei. You are learning quickly."
Zerrei's stomach dropped.
Arden screamed.
Oren threw up a shaky barrier.
Vessel Five roared and stepped in front of Zerrei.
Zerrei trembled violently.
"He found us."
Lyra steadied her stance.
"No," she said.
"We found where we need to stand."