Echoterra: Rise of the Verdant King-Chapter 36: Ashes of the old world

BZZZ!

A few minutes earlier, space fractured and out of it stepped out... a human.

The air was different.

Not just in scent, not merely in temperature, but in density, in weight, in the subtle, choking press of a world that no longer remembered comfort.

Clayton stood upon a cracked highway, its surface blistered with lichen and creeping moss, vines splitting the concrete like ancient wounds reopened. The skeletons of buildings loomed in the distance, not toppled, but hollowed.

Glassless towers pierced the sky like broken needles, their guts bare and open to the wind. Cars, rusted and half-swallowed by earth, littered the roads like forgotten toys.

Above him, the clouds churned with strange colors.

The Aurora Rift shimmered faintly in the upper atmosphere, a permanent scar in the heavens left by the Genesis Protocols. Through it, power still dripped into the world like blood from an open vein.

And within Clayton, that same power stirred.

He was no longer just the Verdant Lord. Not entirely. His humanoid form wore the transformation like a crown; green-black bark woven into armor across his limbs, faintly pulsing veins of chloroplasmic energy winding down his forearms.

Vines curled from his wrists like gauntlets. His hair, once short and wild, had deepened into a tangle of bioluminescent roots.

And within his chest beat the Heartseed Core, stabilizing the duality between man and growth. Clayton understood all of this instinctively.

But deeper still, he could feel it.

His consciousness extended far beyond his humanoid shape; rooted in a second body, a colossal floral titan slumbering somewhere in a moss-ridden clearing miles away.

Instinctively, he knew what it was. ’I brought it with me?!’ That answered one of the questions that he had.

It was the Verdant Lord form. Immobile for now, hidden. But awake.

He existed in both places at once. And he had never felt more dangerous.

Just as confusion bubbled in his mind, he was interrupted by a familiar rhythm of sound that eased his nerves.

DING!

~----~

[Genesis Protocol System: Trial 2 – Earthfall]

[Stage 1 Objective: Survive and Establish Dominion]

>Region: Former Earth [Zone – Forgotten Atlanta Expanse]

>Difficulty Scaling: HIGH.

>Soul Pressure: Compressed.

~----~

’Forgotten Atlanta Expanse?’

Clayton focused on the flicker of text that hovered before his eyes, translucent and edged in bio-light. Unlike the thorny, natural interface from the World of Roots, Echoterra, this one was sleeker, integrated with ancient human tech, sharp like metal, clean like glass.

His focus lingered on the region. After all, he was interested to know where he was. Also, what time this was.

Was this a week after he was sucked into Echoterra? A month? Or maybe, a day didn’t even pass since he left.

After all, he’s read about events like that in books.

’If this is Atlanta,’ he focused on the ruins of toppled skyscrapers again and scowled. ’What the hell happened here?’

’Did this happen to the Scorchpath too?’ His gaze darkened.

Clayton still had so many questions that he wanted answers to. He knew he couldn’t rush it, he had to take it one step at a time.

And so, he focused on the gauntlet on his right arm.

The Mycoglyph gauntlet on his arm pulsed once. It had evolved alongside him when he was transported back to Earth, now branded with the Mythprint Artifact seal, denoting its rarity and bound link. He could feel it like a second heartbeat.

Behind him, the wind carried whispers. Not from voices, but from soul echoes. This city... it had seen too much, he could tell.

It told a tale of tragedy.

"Everyone is dead," Clayton muttered aloud in a grave voice. "Or worse".

The quiet agreed.

His eyes narrowed.

He crouched, fingertips brushing a crack in the asphalt. Green tendrils spiraled downward, gently testing the soil.

It was poisoned with ash, but reclaimable.

Already, roots whispered to him from beneath the surface; feral, twisted, but familiar. The world had changed. It felt more like... Echoterra on Earth.

The thought of Earth transforming into that demented, mad crucible of hell frightened him more than anything.

Then the wind shifted again.

And something answered.

From a distant alley came the hiss of movement; deliberate, erratic. A flicker of chitin. A skitter. The sound of something hungry and mutated by exposure to centuries of Genesis radiation.

Clayton rose, eyes narrowing.

He didn’t need to see it fully to know. ’A Genesis-touched predator’.

He scowled deeper. ’What exactly happened to the world?’

DING!

~----~

[Soul Pressure Detected]

[Genesis Rank: Initiate Ember]

[Crown Type: Thorn Crown]

~----~

His body tightened instinctively. Not from fear, but from readiness.

He didn’t understand half of what the system was showing to him, but still, forged by the fierce crucible of Echoterra, he knew danger when he saw one.

This wasn’t like the world of Verdant madness, Echoterra. There, evolution followed rules. Here, it was survival redefined by madness.

The creature lunged.

It came screaming out of the shadows; eight legs, twisted with mossed-over carapace, eyes glowing like furnace coals. A centipede the size of a van, mandibles gnashing, mutated veins throbbing with Genesis corruption.

Clayton didn’t flinch. He’d seen far worse.

He raised his arm, and the Mycoglyph sang.

Roots burst from his shoulder, coiling into a shield of bark and bone, deflecting the impact. He twisted, planted his foot, and called.

~----~

[Verdant Link: Aphid Swarm Activated]

~----~

Tiny shapes emerged from beneath a mossed car, wings chittering.

Aphids; green, razor-winged, grown fat and violent under Clayton’s bond swarmed the creature in a coordinated strike.

Seeing them, Clayton could not help it, he smiled. ’Some things don’t change after all’.

The centipede screamed. He followed.

~----~

[Aspect Ability: Rootlash Dominion]

~----~

It wasn’t a conscious act, it was instinctive.

Clayton just wanted to attack, and it happened.

Vines lashed forward like spears, burrowing into its exoskeleton. Chloroplasmic venom flooded the beast’s bloodstream. The creature bucked, then collapsed, twisting, its core cracking open with a burst of bitter green mist.

Clayton stood over it, chest heaving once.

Not from effort, but from adaptation.

Trial 2 had begun.

And Earth... was not what he remembered.