At dawn, Selene led them beyond the dead city, into a forest that defied nature.
It wasn't just overgrown — it was alive, conscious, hungry.
The trees twisted overhead, forming grotesque arches, their trunks pulsating faintly as if breathing. Vines moved without wind. Roots shifted across the ground like serpents seeking prey.
Fred tightened his grip on his blade.
Mira pressed close to him. Even fearless Callen muttered under his breath, every step cautious.
"This is it," Selene said. "We're inside the Root's domain."
The air thickened with every step.
It smelled of iron, sap, and something older — something rotting deep within the soil.
Somewhere far ahead, a low sound rumbled through the earth.
It wasn't thunder.
It was a heartbeat.
---
After hours of trudging through the cursed woods, the trees parted into a clearing.
And Fred saw it.
The "sanctuary" Selene had spoken of.
A great spire, made not of stone or wood, but of twisted roots and bone, spiraling into the sky like a wound in reality itself.
Faint blue light seeped from cracks between the roots, casting ghostly shadows across the clearing.
Hundreds — maybe thousands — of people knelt around the spire, motionless.
Their faces were blank. Their eyes... empty.
Fred's blood ran cold.
"They're alive," Mira whispered, horrified.
"Alive, but not free," Selene said. "The Root preserves them — but it takes everything else."
Jonas cursed. "This isn't a sanctuary. It's a graveyard."
Selene smiled bitterly. "It's both."
---
At the base of the spire, an altar waited.
Upon it, a seed the size of a man's fist pulsed, veins of light crisscrossing its surface.
Selene turned to Fred, her voice low and urgent.
"This is why I brought you here."
Fred stared at her.
"You must take the seed."
"Why?"
"Because you can still choose."
Fred shook his head. "Choose what?"
Selene's eyes were dark.
"To save what's left... or to burn it all down."
---