I have landed, but I am not whole.
The dark is different now.
Not the crushing, infinite kind that swallowed me before—this darkness is wet.
Cool.
Breathing.
Alive.
I lay still.
Not because I want to, but because I must.
There's something beneath me, cradling my fragile form.
It's not soft, but not harsh either.
It yields.
It holds.
Soil.
That word comes to me like a half-remembered lullaby.
I don't know what it is, not really, but it makes something in me ache.
Ache in a way that isn't pain—more like longing.
Then—I feel it.
A pulse.
Pulse?
Not my own.
Do I have a pulse?
A deep thrum, like the heartbeat of the world.
Slow.
Ancient.
It rises through the soil and brushes against me.
I twitch—no, I quiver.
Roots.
I have roots.
They're so small.
I didn't know they were there.
But now they wriggle, guided by instinct—no, by hunger.
I reach for that warmth beneath me, shivering and blind, desperate to hold onto something real.
And the moment my rootlets touch deeper earth—
⊹ SYSTEM UPDATE: GROUND CONTACT CONFIRMED ⊹
Initiating Root-Soul Integration…
Stabilizing Sap Flow…
🌱 Photosynthesis activated
🌱 Soil Affinity assessment in progress…
Welcome back, Seedling.
You are alive.
I can't explain it, but I feel fuller.
Like a fog I didn't know I had is starting to lift.
Energy trickles into me, slow but sure—
like morning dew rolling down bark.
Wait—Morning Dew?
Bark?
And then it happens—
A whisper in my mind. Gentle. Curious.
You have gained your first Ability Point.
Would you like to open the Ability Store?
[Yes] / [No]
Yes.
I don't even think.
My will just pulls the word from inside me.
And with it, something unfurls again inside my mind.
🌿 Ability Store – Tier 1: Sprouting Instincts
Abilities designed for survival, self-awareness, and early growth.
Current Ability Cost: 1 AP
Available AP: 1
Moisture Sense – Detect nearby water and humidity in the soil.
Minor Vine Tendril – Grow a thin vine for touch and grasp.
Healing Dew – Create a single drop of sap with mild restorative power.
Tremor Whisper – Sense minor movement through the ground.
I hover in that quiet space inside my mind.
The list glows softly—like fireflies nesting in fog.
They're possibilities.
Paths I could take.
New ways of becoming.
I don't know what's best.
But something tugs at me.
Something warns me.
I won't be alone down here for long.
And when something finds me—
I want to feel it coming.
My roots stir.
I choose: