Ethan hadn't really planned on checking out the realm that morning, honestly.
But there was this feeling, like a little itch at the back of his neck, kind of like an unsaid word or a stare he couldn't quite shake.
So, before the sun even fully peeked over the simulation towers, he plugged into the interface and dropped into the realm.
And wow, it wasn't the same realm anymore.
The change wasn't huge, but it was everywhere.
The sludge no longer bubbled randomly. It flowed now, like it was draining away through hidden channels that hadn't been there yesterday. The terrain had sloped differently now with gentle inclines leading to the grove where he'd planted the seed.
And the trees…
They were growing faster.
Roots wriggled underground, stretching further with each breath. The first of the saplings now bore thin white leaves that glimmered even under the hazy, polluted sky.
But what really caught him off guard was the muck that didn't fight him anymore when he walked through it.
It parted as if it recognized him.
Ethan whispered under his breath, "You've got to be kidding me."
He moved toward the center grove. Each step echoed with soft thuds.
A few meters in, he stopped.
There was something flickering above the ground.
A projection.
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[Structure Forming: Central Root Cluster – Stage 1]
[Defensive Perimeter: Adaptive.
[New Directive: Protection
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That last line? Was not system-generated.
But was a note—handwritten… in his own ugly handwriting.
Except that he hadn't written it.
Not physically.
Not consciously.
His heart thudded harder.
Then the interface pinged again.
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[Visitor Detected: Jasper requesting entry into realm simulation]
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Ethan blinked. "Crap."
He hit deny—fast. This time, no one else was supposed to see it. Not even Felix.
---
Back in the real world, the team was gathered in their simulation-prep room, five minutes before the match check-in.
Jasper was already chewing on a protein bar and tapping his foot like a dog waiting for walk time.
Iris paced near the corner, her ponytail bouncing with every turn.
"You look terrible," Iris remarked as Ethan slid into the chair across from them.
"Didn't get much sleep," he mumbled.
"Something about Realm?" Jasper perked up. "Any cool upgrades? Come on, has it been acting weird since the last anomaly change."
"Nothing major," Ethan lied. "Just some minor terrain changes."
Iris paused mid-step, eyes narrowing.
"You sure?"
Ethan nodded too fast.
Jasper shrugged, "Well, you'll have to show us soon anyway."
"Yeah…" Ethan mumbled, "about that."
Shortly after, they got their map briefing:
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[Urban Quarantine Zone — tight alleys, stacked rooftops, and a fogged warzone aesthetic. ]
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This realm logic allowed summoned flora to grow through broken pavement or collapsed structures… but not over buildings.
"I can set up vine barricades and thorns," Ethan offered, pointing at the map overlay. "We can funnel them through this choke."
Jasper nodded. "And I'll go rooftop with my lookout, Keeping watch and raining down hell if they bunch up."
Iris pointed to the rear flank.
"I'll scan with the spirit moths. We'll know if they try anything sneaky."
Ethan tried to stay focused.
But something else kept pulling at him—this feeling, like a tug.
His realm wanted something.
Or maybe—it was trying to give something.
And honestly?
He kind of wanted to let it.
---
Outside, the crowds had already swarmed the campus stadium for the tournament.
Inside, Ethan kept staring at his pod, fingers curled into a fist.
I can't keep this secret much longer.
Not if the realm kept acting like this.
Not if it kept thinking.
The simulation pod hissed shut.
The lights dimmed gently, and the pressure inside balanced out.
Then the world melted away, and he found himself once more in the eerie ruins of a city that felt almost real.
This was the arena.
Broken highways stretched above him, crisscrossing like empty veins. Half-collapsed buildings lined the sides, and an unsettling green fog drifted over the cracked asphalt.
But what struck Ethan wasn't the arena design.
It was how his realm responded.
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[Initializing Terrain Integration…]
[Native Realm Override: Partial Accepted – Fungal Adaptation Active] [Personal Directive Acknowledged: "Protect the team"]
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Wait. What directive? I didn't set that—
Suddenly, vines cracked through the concrete faster than expected. Thorny roots burst from potholes, forming jagged and uneven trenches. In the mist, a large blossom pulsed faintly, releasing spores that drifted and clung to enemy avatars.
Ethan's heart sank.
"Oh no," he whispered. "You're doing this again on your own?"
His HUD flickered, showing status updates.
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[Target Debuffed – Accuracy Down 8% | Mobility Impaired: Sticky Spore Layer Used]
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Iris's voice crackled over the team comms. "Uh, Ethan? Is it just me, or are the plants going rogue?"
"I didn't plan that," Ethan said, voice tight.
"I love it," Jasper whooped. "Can you do that again?"
Iris chimed in with a calm but sharp tone. "You didn't set that… and it's evolving mid-match?"
Ethan hesitated.
"…Yeah." he admitted.
There was a heavy silence.
Then Iris spoke again: "We'll talk after this. Focus on the game first. We'll talk after this."
Across the stadium, in the observation hall, instructors, researchers, and two visiting officials stared curiously at the projected interface.
One of them, a man in a clean black coat with W.A. insignia on his lapel, leaned forward.
"Pause it there," he said.
The footage halted as a vine reacted to an incoming projectile, curling upward like a whip and swatting the shot away.
"That's not terrain logic," he murmured.
"That's intent."
Head Instructor Vellum frowned. "We've seen emergent behavior before. In High-spirit-value realms—"
"But not like this," the man cut him off.
He pointed again. "Look at the response time. It's adapting faster than the user, and it's protecting its teammates. That's not random."
Mr. Huxley with arms crossed, said nothing, but his gaze stayed fixed on Ethan's avatar.
________________________________________
Back in the arena, things were getting even more intense.
A coordinated enemy push, cornered Iris in a blown-out pharmacy. Ethan reached out through the link.
"Can you hold!" he asked urgently.
"I am trying!" Iris's voice was strained. "My moths are blind in this fog!"
Jasper: "I can flank them! Give me thirty sec—"
"No," Ethan interrupted suddenly. "Let me try something different."
He knelt, slamming his both palms against the cracked pavement.
"Please," he whispered. "Help her."
Then—
The ground shifted slightly. Just enough for a surge of thorns to shot up between Iris and her attackers, forcing them to scatter.
A patch of terrain behind her turned into a root-slide, and she rolled down it instinctively.
She was saved again.
But Ethan hadn't commanded a input.
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[Directive Executed: "Protect the team"]
[Emotional Sync Level: 12%]
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Emotional sync? he thought, panicked.
That's not supposed to be possible without a Law Interface…
Ten minutes later, the match ended with narrow and strange victory, clearly being noticed by everyone watching.
When Ethan finally yanked off the simulation helmet, his hair was soaked with sweat. He didn't even stand up before Iris leaned across her seat, whispering quickly.
"You're not hiding it anymore, Ethan. That realm… it's reacting to you. Not to commands but you."
Ethan couldn't give an answer.
Because he didn't know it either.
But what scared him the most wasn't that the realm was learning.
It was what it was learning from.
And why… it had started to whisper again, even outside the simulation.
[We hear you.]
[We protect.]
[But you must grow.]