CHAPTER 64: SHADOWS OF DIVINITY

Clayton crouched in the Rootsite’s chamber, Veil of Verdant Shroud cloaking his 100 square kilometer domain, Verdant Bastion’s turrets ghostly.

His humanoid form was still fragile, his Flame Resistant skin scarred, Heartseed Core steady but aching from resurrection, Genesis Embers at 4, Aspect Strain high but easing.

His Architect Aspect, divine-like, bore the toll of Revival, memories of death; Vex’s Null Blade, Scorchpath’s ash, his sister’s voice, all lingering.

Clayton may have survived, revived himself even, but he could not forget the sensation of dying.

At first, it was traumatizing.

But then, it was illuminating.

Clayton no longer feared death having experienced it once already.

That understanding of death changed his mentality in ways that he was yet to fully comprehend. Maybe it was for good, or bad, only time would tell. And for some reason, he felt like he was missing something.

’I can’t believe I’m getting used to dying now’. He thought, humor dark. ’What is the world turning into?’

And for the first time, his Territorial Sentience pinged signals he interpreted to be Rootbound Clans activity 50 kilometers north, their Grove vibrating with unfamiliar power, Echoes of Ruin’s psychic ripple a warning.

He felt that her survival, though he was not sure how she did it was the reason why his Territorial Sentience pinged the signal of the Rootbound Clans.

’So these guys have been in my territory all along’.

"Clans playing dirty?" He muttered, his Regalia shifting to spear form. "Or you pulling strings, ghost girl?"

The Verdant Warden Behemorph’s rampage echoed, spore storms ravaging ruins 80 kilometers east, tendrils warping reality, flora mutating.

Clayton’s Rootsite was safe, cloaked, but the Behemorph’s path veered closer, its Verdant Warden rank hunger targeting all life, no longer just non-Behemorph.

He needed his Spore Plague Lord and 19 minions, lost in the Expanse, their Aphid Network severed.

’I wonder how I’ll get them back’.

Core Maw hummed, Spine Bloom ready, but his Architect Aspect urged caution. Divine power needed time.

Territorial Sentience flared, mapping the Verdant Warden’s path and the devastation it left in its wake, a vision of cosmic horror seared into Clayton’s mind.

The Behemorph was a fungal titan, 50 meters tall, its form a grotesque symphony of biomass and entropy.

Its core, a pulsating fungal nexus, 10 meters wide, glowing with bioluminescent veins radiated Mycotic Regalia, a shroud of spores that warped light, bending reality into mirages of decayed worlds.

Tendrils, thick as tram spires, writhed like living cathedrals, each tipped with Sporebloom Maw, snapping mouths dripping corrosive sap that dissolved stone to sludge.

Its Crown Type, Spore Crown manifested as a halo of fungal spires, each pulsing with Reality-Warp Spores, mutating flora into carnivorous blooms and fauna into spore-choked husks.

It was the Sovereign of Spores, a Plague Sovereign.

The Behemorph’s presence was alien, its intelligence vast but primal, a fragment of Genesis’s wrath hellbent on erasing all life.

The Forgotten Atlanta Expanse suffered under its wrath.

Ruins crumbled, tram hubs vaporized, Mycoglyphs shattered, their Earthcore Nexus pulse recoiling in terror.

A 20 kilometer radius around the Behemorph was a wasteland; spores corroding steel, tendrils uprooting spires, reality fracturing into fungal mirages where time stuttered, seconds stretching to minutes.

Initiate Ember Behemorphs; Thorn Strays, Ash Stalkers, all cowered, fleeing or dissolving in spore clouds, manifestations of the Behemorph’s power, their primal instincts no match for the Plague Sovereign’s aura.

Even Luminous Seed Behemorphs, like rogue Spore Crowns, hid in ruins, their biomass trembling, refusing to challenge the Verdant Warden’s dominion.

The Expanse’s sentient roots withered, retreating underground, Nexus vibrations a desperate plea.

Bastion-7, the Ironblood Remnants’ abandoned fortress 20 kilometers south, fell in hours.

The Verdant Warden’s tendrils pierced its steel walls, Sporebloom Maws devouring Null Scion generators, spores corroding drones to rust.

Holo-screens melted, Null Lances sprouted fungal blooms, barracks collapsed into sludge pits.

The base’s Furnace Core detonated, a futile flare against the Behemorph’s Reality-Warp Spores, which twisted the explosion into a spore storm, spreading 5 kilometers.

Nothing remained but a fungal crater, Mycoglyphs silenced, Ironblood’s zeal erased.

Clayton saw it all.

His gut twisted, Territorial Sentience relaying the destruction.

"That’s no Behemorph," he growled, humor fading. "That’s a damn Apocalypse!"

His Rootsite was cloaked, but the Plague Sovereign’s path risked exposing him. He needed Aphid Network, his Plague Lord, his army.

But time was short.

...

Ironhold-3, 50 Kilometers South.

Vex slumped in Ironhold-3’s command bay, exosuit scrapped, leg bandaged, arm in a sling.

Her three Shrikes; visors off, faces gaunt, stood silent, Null Blades stowed.

Commander Vrenna faced a holo-screen, Ironhold-3’s uplink dead, dissent brewing. Drayce’s Furnace Core flickered, Rhea’s silence a blade, Sylas’s goggles cracked. Bastion-7’s loss; drones, Null Lances, dozens of Ironblood desperately running for their lives hung heavy.

"Verdant Warden rank Behemorph," Vex reported, voice ash. "Unstoppable. Green’s dead, Apostates gone, but it’s coming".

Ironhold-3’s Commander was silent, processing the information.

Vrenna’s mechanical arm clicked, eyes cold. She gritted her teeth. "Ironhold-4 won’t send Scions. We hold Ironhold-3 or die".

Murmurs rose.

"Abandon it, like Bastion-7!"

Drayce’s glare silenced most of the murmuring voices. Vrenna’s zeal held, but cracks already appeared and were spreading, blooming like an unstoppable virus, the Verdant Warden’s spore storms a death knell.

Ironhold-3’s Commander remained silent.

...

Rootbound Grove, 50 Kilometers North.

Kaelith Verne, now Echoes of Ruin, stood in the grove, vine-woven throne pulsing, Clansmen chanting.

Her dual Aspects, Echoes of Ruin and Groveheart Dominion hummed, Verdant Artifacts amplifying her power.

A Clansmen, eyes suspicious, whispered of her changed aura, but her psychic tendrils silenced doubts, Groveheart summoning thorned sentinels to enforce loyalty. The Verdant Warden’s rampage vibrated through roots, a rival to her dominion.

"I’ll reshape this Expanse," she vowed, jade eyes glinting. "But first, I have to decide how we’ll survive that monster". Echoes weaved plans, unaware Clayton’s Rootsite pulsed, hidden, ready for war.

Yes, she was unaware of Clayton’s survival.

After all, she never expected to survive, until her Aspect showed an entirely new facet that she didn’t know before.

Not every Awakened could boast of having a Protocol Bearer rank Aspect. In fact, she was sure that Awakened warriors with Aspects of her rank could be counted on one hand, if there were any at all.

So, she doubted that the Verdant Lord survived.

Clayton was able to stay in the shadows. For now.

...

Clayton shifted, Regalia humming, Core Maw stirring, but Territorial Sentience suddenly spiked. He felt it; a wrongness, not the Behemorph, not the Clans, but deeper, tied to his Heartseed Core.

His Architect Aspect flickered, divine and unstable, as if the Earthcore Nexus itself whispered.

A System chime rang, incomplete, its message fractured.

DING!

~----~

[System Notification: Artifact Acquired!]

[Artifact Name: Shedskin]

[Origin: Host termination recorded as self-inflicted. Reward granted for...]

~----~

Clayton froze. ’Huh?’