"Self-sustaining habitat."
That's the task. Seven days, no assistant, no system modules. Just me... and this mess.
Ethan stood at the center of his Divine Realm.
A one-square-kilometer area marked by decay.
The air was heavy with haze—fine dust lingered in motion. The sky was a dull yellow-gray, and the sun struggled to penetrate the gloom, casting weak, muted light reminiscent of a flickering bulb.
The ground beneath him was cracked and lifeless; veins of oil and ash split the soil. A few scraggly weeds—twisted and dry—were the only semblance of life.
Crouching down, he ran his fingers through the dirt.
Dry, barren, and barely holding together.
He sighed, letting his thoughts slip through his mind like a mist.
Unsurprisingly, a realm born from my essence would resemble this.
Then, the seed became visible.
It hovered in front of him, glowing with a gentle green light.
A notification appeared alongside it:
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[Saplingkin Seed: Tier 1]
The foundational seed of the Saplingkin. known for being hardy, adaptive, and capable of slow propagation if conditions allow.
Requirements: Soil compatibility, basic energy flow, non-toxic surroundings.
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Ethan stared at it.
So small.
It pulsed faintly, like it was alive—or maybe just hopeful.
You poor thing. You've no idea what kind of hellhole you landed in.
A sense of responsibility weighed heavily in his chest.
However, you are all I have... so we will make this work.
He carefully grasped the seed in his hand. It felt warm—almost comforting.
Let's start with the basics.
He made his way to the flattest area he could locate, moving aside a broken piece of metal and bent rebar.
Kneeling down, he began to dig with his fingers.
The dirt fought back—hard, clumpy, mixed with glass and debris. But he didn't stop.
Minutes passed as he labored, his breaths shallow, gradually creating a hole large enough for the seed.
Sweat trickled down his temple.
His hands were scraped and bleeding by the time he completed the task.
He placed the seed in the earth and gently covered it.
Please grow. Just this once, please.
Then, silence.
He leaned back, watching intently.
Nothing happened.
Of course it wouldn't. This place is poisonous.
But a few seconds later, something unexpected happened.
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[Realm Notification: Localized Terrain Adapting...]
[Minimal compatible life detected: Environmental Resistance = 2%]
[Energy Redistribution Initiated.]
[ Estimated Germination Time: 63 hours.]
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Ethan blinked.
Then grinned—if only slightly.
It wants to grow. Despite this all... it actually wished to live.
He surveyed the wasteland surrounding him—the broken terrain, the polluted air.
And for the first time in a long while, he felt something rise within him.
Hope.
Ethan exhaled slowly as he sat near the freshly planted seed. His back ached, and his fingers throbbed from digging through the rough terrain, yet his focus remained fixed on that spot.
Sixty-three hours, huh? That's… a lot of time to be anxious.
The air around him crackled with static-like energy—subtle indications of the instability of his environment. He realized that he could not afford to remain idle.
He required a shelter.
Not for comfort, but for survival.
While the realm might not yet be populated with creatures, toxins still danced in the air, and acid rain wasn't out of the question. A sudden storm could jeopardize both the seed and Ethan's safety.
He got up and began to assess his surroundings, scanning for potential resources
There were no trees, no viable soil, and no clean water—however, he noted the presence of debris, ruins, metal beams, and chunks of stone. It may not be ideal, but it was something he could work with.
A notification appeared in the corner of his vision:
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[Crafting Available: Basic Tool Set]
Requirements: Shards of stone/metal x3, Bindable fiber or substitute x1
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Ethan crouched next to a half-buried pile of rubble, meticulously brushing away dirt until he uncovered a jagged piece of metal—dull and rusty, yet sufficiently sharp for his purposes.
One item secured.
Over the next hour, he continued to search the nearby surroundings, discovering a rusted streetlight, a warped steel beam protruding from an incline, and clusters of stone.
Eventually, he collected the necessary components: a metal shard, broken rock, and strips of melted wire insulation that he fashioned into binding material.
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[Basic Tool Set Acquired]
+ Rusted Scraper
+ Cracked Blade (Improvised)
+ Twine Hook
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Not exactly top-tier craftsmanship, but it would serve its purpose.
He returned to the seed, still inactive, and moved a few meters away to begin clearing the ground.
It took him hours to scrape away the top layer of toxic dust. As he dug deeper, the terrain became more solid—still contaminated, but at least workable.
He found a few concrete slabs half-buried under debris. Carefully, he dragged them together to form a crude L-shaped structure.
If I stack these right, and seal the gaps with mud...
His hands worked almost instinctively, scraping, dragging, and packing with a makeshift mortar. He used wire cords to connect metal poles and secured them into the ground for a frame.
By the time he was done, the shelter stood at a chest height, half-covered in scrap and stone.
It was not aesthetically pleasing. And it barely counted as a hut. But it was something.
Something his realm could acknowledge.
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[Realm Notification: Shelter Constructed - "Scrap Den"]
Environmental Resistance +1%
Rest Efficiency: 30%
Stability Rating: Marginal]
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He dropped into the shaded corner of the shelter.
His muscles screamed. His head buzzed from exhaustion.
Thirty percent, huh? That's an optimistic rating.
He leaned back against the cool concrete wall, gazing at the distant haze swirling above.
While it may be unsightly, imperfect, and likely to collapse in the night... but it still marks a progress ahead.
A smile crept onto his face.
This realm may be undesirable, but it is his responsibility. His rules. His challenge to overcome.
He cast a glance back at the planted seed, now barely visible in the waning light.
Together, we will make this work—one shovel of dirt at a time.