Chapter 112: A quiet dawn

Dawn broke gently over the Forgotten Atlanta Expanse, the horizon painted in subtle strokes of gold and lavender, slowly washing away the lingering shadows of the night. Clayton rose early, slipping silently from the comfort of his makeshift quarters. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the fresh, slightly cool air that whispered through the verdant growth of his Rootsite. He moved quietly through the enclave, his footsteps barely audible on the soft carpet of moss and vines. Clayton felt strange. This feeling... he struggled to get used to it. It was already a while since he gained power to protect himself already, and yet, he still could not get used to the feeling of not being in mortal danger. To his perception, he only spent like 10 days or so in Echoterra, but those few days defined his life. Literally, after all, history said he spent centuries there. He was already a cynical, distrustful, and streets forged outskirts rat, and the traumatic experience in Echoterra heightened it more. Trusting others, seeing them as comrades, friends, he never thought he would bring himself to do that, and yet here he was. But it was not what made him feel weird. Rather, it was the feeling of safety. No Behemorphs were attacking. The world was not threatening to swallow him. The Ironblood Remnants were not desperately after his head, the Verdant Apostates were nowhere to be seen. All that was left was... family. It was weird. Clayton was so used to being hunted that peace and calm felt like an illusion. As for the fact of no Behemorphs daring to attack the Rootsite anymore even with Veil of the Verdant Shroud not active, it was because after the rampage that Clayton and his friends went on for the past week, wiping off the remnants of Korrath’s army, the expanse was tamed. Behemorphs who saw them do it and survived learned a bitter lesson, and that lesson was to never cross paths with them again. Behemorphs avoided the Rootsite like a plague. The Rootsite itself? The Rootsite felt different now; more vibrant, more aware, almost as if it recognized the presence of its master, responding subtly to his thoughts and emotions. Clayton flexed his fingers, feeling the pulse of Genesis Embers within his Heartseed Core, marveling at the newfound ease with which he wielded his abilities. His evolution into a Luminous Seed Verdant Lord had granted him strength he was still discovering. Every passing day brought clearer insight into his heightened senses, the intricate web of consciousness within his Aphid Network, bigger than ever before, and the near-infinite potential he held to shape his environment. Yet, as Clayton wandered deeper into the heart of his territory, exploring the ruins and overgrown pathways, he found little more than quiet reminders of past lives and forgotten battles. Due to his limited power as an Initiate Ember Awakened, he refrained from exploring certain deep paths of the Forgotten Atlanta Expanse. But now, as a Luminous Seed Verdant Lord, with a capable Awakened team no less, Clayton was bolder now to explore deeper into the ruined city. Besides, he was no longer the greenhorn that he was before. Now, alongside his power, he had knowledge. As a kid who grew up in the outskirts of Arizona, Clayton knew the importance of knowledge to survival. Nature had reclaimed much of the city, weaving green tendrils through broken walls, sprouting flowers amidst rusted steel, and filling hollow buildings with quiet echoes. It was serene, peaceful, almost unsettlingly so, after the chaos they had recently endured. Clayton paused before a crumbling building, its façade draped in flowering vines. He closed his eyes briefly, allowing his consciousness to stretch outwards through his Aphid Network, sensing the subtle hum of life and the tranquil silence of the city. For now, like Torren predicted, no threat stirred, no Behemorph dared challenge their dominance. Returning to the heart of the Rootsite, Clayton found Torren already awake, sharpening his Pyreaxe by a smoldering firepit. Torren looked up, nodding a greeting as Clayton approached. "You’re up early," Torren remarked, his voice calm and relaxed. "Restless?" Clayton smiled faintly, settling down beside him. "Something like that. Still getting used to all this... power". He gesticulated to get his point across, then shrugged. Torren chuckled softly, understanding clear in his eyes. "I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this Clayton, but it suits you". "Huh?" Clayton looked at him. "I mean, you wear it naturally. But it takes time to feel comfortable, even with strength. True strength isn’t just raw power; it’s control, balance. It’s the critical ingredient that separate elite Awakened from the others". Torren looked at him. "You’ll find it". Clayton nodded slowly, staring thoughtfully into the glowing embers. "I’ve been thinking about everything we discussed last night; the Genesis Protocols, their origins, and our purpose here". Torren glanced up, curiosity evident in his expression. "Come to any conclusions?" Clayton exhaled slowly, thoughtful and measured. "Nothing concrete yet. But the Protocols... like we agreed yesterday, they seem too intentional, too precisely crafted to be mere accidents or experiments". "Whoever or whatever created them had clear goals in mind; growth, evolution, survival. And that’s what I don’t understand... to what end?" He looked at Torren. "That’s what puzzles me". Torren considered this carefully. "Maybe we’re not meant to fully understand it, not yet anyway. Perhaps understanding comes only after we’ve proven ourselves worthy through these trials". "You mean the Genesis Protocol trials?" "Yes". Clayton looked at his friend, impressed by the wisdom, or maybe foolishness in his words? "You really believe that?" He asked. Torren shrugged lightly, resuming the rhythmic sharpening of his Pyreaxe. "Belief or not, it’s our reality". "We keep moving forward, adapting, growing stronger. Whatever the purpose, we’re living it, shaping it as we go". "What if we die?" Torren shrugged again. "If we die, we die. If not, we keep on going forward. Afterall, humans still died even before the Genesis Protocols descended on Earth". They sat quietly for a moment, the gentle crackle of the fire and the soft rustling of leaves providing a peaceful backdrop. Eventually, Clayton broke the silence, his voice thoughtful. "There’s still so much we don’t know. Every answer seems to bring more questions". Torren smiled knowingly. "And that’s the nature of existence, Clayton". "The more we learn, the more we realize how little we truly know". Torren’s smile suddenly widened. "Reminds me of a quote my dad once loved. The more you read, the more you know, and the more you know, the more you feel you don’t know". Clayton smiled. "Your dad seemed intelligent". "He was". Torren nodded with pride. "Anyways, All we can do is keep moving forward, seek out knowledge where we can, and make decisions based on what feels right". Clayton nodded, absorbing the wisdom of Torren’s words. He was about to respond when Kaelin suddenly appeared, moving swiftly and quietly from the shadows. His face was flushed with excitement. "You two should see this!" He said, eyes sparkling with intrigue. "We found something". Clayton and Torren exchanged curious glances before rising and following Kaelin through the twisting pathways of the enclave. They navigated crumbling corridors and lushly overgrown halls until Kaelin finally brought them to an unexpected sight; a large metallic door, partially concealed by thick vines and rubble. It pulsed gently with a soft, otherworldly light, unmistakably infused with Nexus energy. Torren’s eyes widened in astonishment. "Is that what I think it is?" Clayton stepped forward cautiously, feeling a strange resonance from the door, a subtle vibration in tune with his own Heartseed Core. "A Nexus vault," he confirmed softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "And from what looks of it, it might hold information the Trials". Kaelin looked between them, excitement evident but tempered by caution. "Should we investigate?" Clayton hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment press upon him. On one hand, his curiosity burned hot. The promise of answers beckoned alluringly, and yet, on the other hand, uncertainty hung thick in the air. What if this door led to somewhere extremely dangerous? There was a reason he avoided exploring too deeply into the Expanse before. But even now as a Luminous Seed Verdant Lord, Clayton had no delusion that he was invincible. He knew and believed that there were existences out there who could make light work of him still. He didn’t need to think far. All he needed to think of was about 5 or 6 months ago... the Plague Sovereign. It required a literal bomb to take that bastard out. In the end, Clayton didn’t make the decision alone. He turned to Torren, meeting his friend’s steady gaze. "Knowledge is power," Torren murmured thoughtfully, "but some doors, once opened, cannot be closed again". Clayton nodded solemnly, his gaze fixed firmly on the glowing door, aware that whatever lay beyond could alter their future irrevocably. "Then we decide carefully, together". The trio stood silently, contemplating the choice before them. Around them, the city held its breath, awaiting their decision.