The world tilted—
subtly at first, then violently, as if the entire forest were sliding off the surface of reality.
Zerrei felt the shift before the ground even moved.
A ripple passed through the air, cold and sharp, slicing through him like a memory of a scalpel edge.
His knees buckled.
Lyra seized him before he hit the ground, bracing her legs against the tremor. "Zerrei—steady—"
"I—I can't—" he stammered, his Heartglow flickering in frantic pulses. "He's—changing things."
The Creator took another step forward, and reality bent around him.
Not metaphorically.
Truly.
The trees behind him elongated like stretched shadows.
Roots contorted into unnatural patterns.
Even the color of light changed—blue filtering into white, then draining into muted gray.
It felt like the world itself recoiled from letting him exist inside it.
Arden swore loudly. "NOPE. Nope! The world is bending sideways—WHY IS IT BENDING SIDEWAYS—"
Oren grabbed him. "Arden, STOP MOVING—your spatial anchor is destabilizing!"
"My WHAT is WHAT?!"
Zerrei clutched his chest with both hands. "He's pulling the local mana grid into alignment with… with himself."
The Creator's expression flickered with satisfaction. "Good, Zerrei. You understand."
Lyra stepped in front of Zerrei again, blade raised. "We don't care what he understands. Keep your distance."
The Creator did not respond to her.
He simply observed the collapsing landscape with clinical detachment, as if studying a diagram.
"Fascinating," he murmured. "Spinewood's natural defenses are weaker than predicted."
A vein of mana split open across the ground—
a white fissure glowing with raw arcane energy.
Arden jumped back. "WHY ARE THINGS CRACKING OPEN LIKE EGGS—"
"Because reality," Oren panted, layering another shimmering sigil around them, "is breaking."
The Creator clasped his hands behind his back as though standing in a lecture hall.
"The forest attempted to resist me," he said. "A noble effort. Futile, of course."
Zerrei forced himself upright. His legs trembled. His Heartglow throbbed painfully.
"Stop."
The Creator raised one eyebrow. "Stop… existing?"
"Stop hurting the forest."
"Ah."
He considered that.
"No."
Zerrei's Heartglow flared—bright, painful, too sharp.
Lyra's grip tightened on him. "Don't waste strength on reacting to him. Choose your ground."
"But he's tearing the forest apart—he's—"
"I know," she said. "And we'll stop him. But not by collapsing here."
Another tremor tore through the ground.
This time it wasn't from below.
It came from above.
The sky flexed as if someone were pressing against it from the outside, trying to tear their way in. Clouds split in geometric shapes—straight lines, sharp angles—not anything nature could produce.
Oren stared upward, horrified. "He's pushing on the dimensional layer directly—he's trying to create a ceiling breach!"
Arden yelled, "A WHAT breach?!"
"THE SKY IS BREAKING!"
Arden screamed. "WHY DID YOU PUT IT THAT WAY?!"
Lyra barked, "Both of you shut up and focus!"
Vessel Five moved first.
It lunged—not forward, but sideways—positioning itself directly between Zerrei and the Creator. Its body trembled under the shifting pull of the fractured world.
"…Zerrei… in danger… Creator… threat level… escalating…"
The Creator glanced at Vessel Five briefly. "You are overstating your function."
"…I… choose… function…"
For a moment, silence hung heavy.
The Creator's eyes narrowed.
"You are not programmed for choice."
Vessel Five's chest cracked—
but this time not in agony.
In defiance.
"…no program… no chain… choose…"
The Creator took one step forward.
Reality bent again.
Zerrei screamed as his Heartglow sputtered from the pressure.
Lyra pulled him backward, anchoring him.
Arden and Oren stumbled but did not fall.
Vessel Five's claws dug deeper into the ground—ripping soil, splintering stone.
"…Zerrei… behind… me…"
The Creator stopped just within arm's reach of Vessel Five.
"Your evolution," he said softly, "is flawed. Messy. Imprecise."
"…still… MINE…" Vessel Five snarled.
"Incorrect," the Creator replied. "Your identity is a corrupted offshoot of Zerrei's influence—nothing more. You are not your own evolution. You are a shadow of a shadow."
The words hit Vessel Five hard.
Its entire frame trembled.
Blue light flickered violently.
Its claws scraped deep trenches in the ground.
Zerrei felt the tremor like a shock in his own chest.
He tore free from Lyra's hold—not away from her, but forward.
Toward Vessel Five.
"STOP TALKING TO HIM LIKE HE'S A THING!"
The Creator's gaze snapped to Zerrei.
"You are still too loud," he said.
Zerrei stiffened—
because deep in that voice
was the tone he remembered from waking in the lab.
The tone that said:
Incorrect behavior. Adjust.
He shook violently, fingers curling into fists.
"I'm not loud," Zerrei whispered, "I'm alive."
The Creator blinked.
"Alive?"
He tilted his head.
"You misunderstand the concept."
Zerrei's Heartglow erupted—
a flash of gold that crackled across his cracks and along the Arcane Loop.
Lyra took a defensive stance beside him.
Arden shouted, "YES, GLOW AT HIM, LIGHTNING PUPPET—"
"Arden," Oren hissed, "you're not helping!"
Zerrei took a step forward.
"You don't get to define me," he said.
A tremor struck the ground again—
a brutal shock that split the earth beneath their feet.
The world jolted sideways.
Arden fell.
Oren tumbled.
Lyra had to brace herself with one hand against the ground.
Vessel Five skidded.
Zerrei nearly went over the edge of the forming fissure—
—but Lyra grabbed him.
Through the shaking, she whispered sharply into his ear:
"You. Are. Zerrei."
He inhaled sharply.
And the world tilted back upright.
The Creator's expression remained calm—too calm.
"You have learned defiance," he said. "But not stability."
Zerrei snapped, "I'm stable enough!"
"Are you?"
The Creator lifted one finger.
Zerrei's Heartglow seized.
He collapsed to his knees with a cry.
"ZERREI!" Lyra dropped beside him, holding him upright.
The Creator lowered his hand.
"Your core still responds to me."
Zerrei shook violently. "Because you built it wrong!"
"No," the Creator said quietly. "Because you refuse to let it grow in the proper direction."
"The 'proper' direction is OBEDIENCE," Zerrei spat.
"Yes," the Creator said simply. "You call it control. I call it completion."
Lyra rose in front of Zerrei again. "Then you'll learn a new definition."
The Creator tilted his head. "From you?"
"Yes," she said.
"And from him."
Vessel Five stepped forward.
"…Creator… I am not… defective…"
"You are," the Creator said without emotion. "A vessel who rejects purpose is defective."
"…purpose… chosen…"
"Your chosen purpose is an illusion."
"…no…"
"Your autonomy," the Creator explained, "is a temporary instability in your directive chain."
"…NO…"
"Your identity is nothing more than Zerrei's resonance imprint—"
Vessel Five roared and charged.
Lyra screamed, "NO—DON'T—"
But Zerrei understood instantly.
The forest was still collapsing.
The ground too unstable.
The world too thin.
A clash here would tear reality even further.
Zerrei threw himself forward.
"STOP!"
Vessel Five froze mid-lunge.
Not because of the Creator.
Because of Zerrei.
Blue light flickered wildly. The hunter trembled violently.
"…Zerrei… danger… protect…"
Zerrei grabbed its arm.
"No. Protect yourself first."
It froze.
The Creator watched with a fascination that sent chills down Zerrei's spine.
"Remarkable," he said. "Even now, your influence overrides violent impulse. You have grown far more… gentle… than I intended."
Zerrei stood shakily. "Good."
"But also weak."
Zerrei's jaw clenched. "NO."
Another tremor shook the world.
This one worse.
The sky tilted.
Clouds twisted into spirals.
Light bent sideways.
Trees in the distance uprooted themselves violently as if thrown by a giant.
Zerrei felt it in his very seams.
The Creator had not caused this tremor.
The forest had recognized his presence fully now.
It was failing.
Dying.
Splitting apart.
The Creator sighed. "The Spinewood collapses with remarkable speed. A shame. I hoped to study it further."
"You're killing it," Zerrei shouted.
"No," he corrected. "I am overrunning it. There is a difference."
Zerrei's breath shook.
"You ruin everything you touch!"
"No," the Creator said. "I reshape everything I touch."
Another fissure split beneath their feet.
Arden screamed.
Oren scrambled to pull him back.
Lyra yanked Zerrei away from the opening.
Vessel Five anchored all four of them with its claws.
Zerrei felt the world twist.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Spiritually.
His whole being trembled.
Not from the Creator's voice—
but from the realization of what was coming.
"He's going to collapse the forest," Zerrei whispered. "Completely."
Lyra steadied him. "Then we stop him before that happens."
"How?!" Zerrei rasped.
"Together," she said.
Arden raised his axe. "I VOTE 'BEAT HIM WITH TEAMWORK.'"
Oren groaned. "Arden, you cannot punch a reality-bending arcane genius—"
"WATCH ME TRY."
The Creator ignored all of them.
"You misunderstand me," he said calmly. "I have no interest in destroying this forest. It destroys itself because it lacks the structure to withstand my presence."
"Then LEAVE," Zerrei screamed.
"No," the Creator said quietly.
"I came for you."
Zerrei felt his heart stutter.
Lyra lifted her blade. "You do NOT touch him."
"I do not need to touch him," the Creator said. "I simply need him to return."
Zerrei stepped backward.
"No."
The Creator took one small step forward.
And the world tilted again.
Reality flickered.
The ground splintered.
Mana burst upward in spiraling chaos.
Zerrei's Heartglow pulsed erratically—
Gold—
White—
Black—
then gold again.
Lyra held him upright. "Zerrei—stay here. Stay with me."
He pressed a shaking hand to his chest.
"I… I need to move."
"Where?" Lyra asked immediately.
Zerrei's gaze drifted to the dying horizon.
"To where the forest still breathes."
Oren shook his head. "Zerrei, it's collapsing everywhere—"
"No," Zerrei said softly. "Not everywhere. Not yet."
Vessel Five stepped beside him.
"…Zerrei… location?"
"There." Zerrei pointed toward a distant ridge where faint golden motes still rose from the soil.
"The forest is calling me there."
The Creator smiled faintly.
"Good."
Zerrei froze. "Why is that good to you?"
"Because," the Creator said softly,
"You will finally show me what you are becoming."
Zerrei's skin crawled.
Lyra stepped backward, pulling Zerrei with her. "We're leaving. Now. Move."
Arden grabbed Oren. Vessel Five shielded their flank. The ground cracked open behind them as they ran.
The Creator did not follow.
He simply watched.
He lifted one hand—
as if releasing them intentionally.
For now.
Zerrei looked back once
and saw the Creator watching him not with hatred—
but with anticipation.
As if waiting for Zerrei to grow into something worth confronting.
Zerrei whispered, breathless and afraid:
"He's letting us go."
Lyra nodded. "Then we use the time."
Zerrei's Heartglow flickered painfully.
He placed a hand over it.
"We run," he said softly.
"And pray the forest still has breath left to save."