Since the memories span thousands of years, most of which involve long periods of inactivity while they waited for the results of their experiments, I've filtered out all those parts. I've left only the moments where something significant happened or where they were engaged in activity,} Nova explained as the environment around Aron transformed.
Suddenly, the room shifted, morphing into a scene of nothingness. It was an empty void, the starting point of what he called "swimming"— a way of experiencing memories as if living them. He could now immerse himself in these moments, becoming an invisible observer while also feeling the emotions and sensations tied to the events.
The first memory began to unravel before him.
The scene unfolded slowly, with small white dots gradually appearing in the void, representing the awakening senses of the tree folk.
As time accelerated, more and more dots emerged, each one signifying a sensory perception coming to life.
This marked the beginning of their relationship. From then on, they would regularly meet, exchanging information about their exploration of the world. They shared discoveries, updating an internal map of the planet as their senses extended farther and farther across the surface.
Over the years, they discovered more of their kind, repeating the process of introducing each new tree folk to the Timeless Meadow, where they would be brought up to speed. Eventually, all five tree folk had met, and together, they mapped the entirety of the planet, their bond growing closer with each new revelation.
After nearly a thousand years in this accelerated memory, Aron could finally comprehend what these white dots represented—the tree folk's ability to sense their surroundings had fully developed.
At first, the tree folk explored their newly awakened senses, gradually learning how to extend their range. Months passed, and eventually, one of them encountered another tree folk. It was a discovery that led to the first attempt at communication.
Without the knowledge of how to interact, the tree folk tried various methods until, by pure chance, their senses intertwined. When that happened, both were suddenly transported to a place that was strikingly familiar.
"Timeless Meadow," Aron said softly, recognizing the space immediately as it formed before him.
The two tree folk stood in awe of each other's forms, which manifested as vast, sprawling roots, each hundreds of meters long. Communication came instinctively when one of them attempted to transmit thoughts, and to their surprise, it worked.
This marked the beginning of their relationship. From then on, they would regularly meet, exchanging information about their exploration of the world. They shared discoveries, updating an internal map of the planet as their senses extended farther and farther across the surface.
Over the years, they discovered more of their kind, repeating the process of introducing each new tree folk to the Timeless Meadow, where they would be brought up to speed. Eventually, all five tree folk had met, and together, they mapped the entirety of the planet, their bond growing closer with each new revelation.
However, their connection wasn't without conflict. Though still limited in power, disagreements led to fights, initially only mental clashes. As they continued to grow, however, their roots extended enough to physically intertwine during these fights, adding a new dimension to their interactions. It wasn't just conflict that arose from this intertwining, though.
The tree folk discovered that when their roots merged and expended mana, they could create things they already understood—trees, for example, which were scattered across the small landmasses of the planet. This revelation led them to shift their focus from exploration to experimentation.
Thousands of years passed, with the tree folk steadily growing in size and power. Eventually, their senses extended far beyond the planet, allowing them to observe the entire star system. It was during this period that the Proximian fleet arrived.
At first, the fleet went unnoticed, but soon after, the tree folk detected the newcomers. Fascinated by these beings unlike anything they had encountered in their thousands of years of existence, they devoted much of their time to observing them.
The memory stream continued up to the present day, marking the end of the swimming.
It was then followed by silence.
{What's your conclusion?} Nova asked, breaking the silence.
"........"
Aron remained silent, still processing the flood of memories he had just witnessed. Nova, recognizing that he was amidst his contemplation, waited patiently, understanding that he would speak once he had fully digested the information.
After a few moments, Aron finally broke the silence. "Everything I've seen from their beginnings to their discoveries is pointing me toward something, but with the data we have now, it's too early to draw a definitive conclusion. This will require a deeper dive before I make any solid assumptions."
{I agree, but if you were to form a hypothesis based solely on the current data, what would you say they are?} Nova pressed, almost as if she was eager to compare her own analysis with his.
Aron pondered for a moment before replying, "I've got three possible theories. First, they were created deliberately. Second, they're the result of a mana anomaly, possibly evolving naturally from it. And lastly, they may have been birthed or produced by someone, or something, perhaps from this planet—or even from another star system—and then sent here."
His answer was measured, but he was curious now, sensing there might be a reason behind Nova's insistence.
{Looks like we're on the same page. Although I've come up with more theories than you, the most likely ones align with yours.} Nova responded, revealing her reasoning.
Aron nodded, then quickly gave an instruction. "Have the exploration team gather samples of the different levels of roots from the two tree folks. We'll send them back to Earth for further research. I want to see if we can confirm any of these theories."
{I'll handle it. And what about you? You still have a few hours before your scheduled tour of the planet.} Nova reminded him, aware of the timeline.
"I'm going to start researching how to create a body for them. The goal is to see if their main consciousness can be transferred into it. If successful, we can perfect the body and have the two tree folks inhabit it, allowing us to use their original forms as research material. If not, we'll test the new body to determine if there's a distance limit for their split consciousness and, if so, how far it extends. Depending on the results, I have several plans for them," Aron explained, outlining his strategy and noting that he would need Nova's help for the body creation.
{Let's get to work then,} Nova responded, her excitement palpable as their surroundings transformed into a high-tech biology research laboratory.
"Bring me a copy of the two tree folks' progeny and one of mine," Aron said, shifting into research mode and ready to dive into the project.
Two weeks later.
Aron stood calmly inside one of the physical labs on his ship, his eyes fixed on five medipods positioned before him. Holograms hovered over each pod, displaying streams of data being collected in real time.
Inside the pods, five bodies lay motionless, sustained by a constant supply of nutrients directly administered to their systems. The pods were designed to keep the bodies alive while preventing any activation of brain function, ensuring that consciousness remained completely dormant.
Although the bodies in the pods outwardly resembled the various races of the Proximians, the similarities ended there. Internally, their structure was much closer to Aron's own physiology than to that of the Proximians or even humans.
{I think that's enough observation. We should start the final etching,} Nova suggested, materializing beside him, ready to move on to the next critical step in their experiment.
"Sure, let's do it," Aron said, stepping closer to the nearest pod. Immediately, runic sentences began to materialize in front of him. With each passing second, the complex runic script grew longer and more intricate, with hundreds of symbols and words flowing together seamlessly.
For two hours, Aron worked tirelessly, constructing an extraordinarily detailed runic sequence. When he finally finished, he opened his eyes and asked, "Are there any mistakes?"
{None,} Nova responded, having meticulously monitored and cross-referenced every symbol against the simulations they'd run beforehand.
"Good," Aron said, a smile forming on his face. The relief was evident; a single mistake would have meant starting over from scratch, wasting two hours of intense concentration. The satisfaction of knowing everything was flawless allowed him a brief moment of reprieve before moving on to the next crucial step.
He then began to gradually reduce the size of the runic script, scaling it down from occupying the entire room to fitting within the confines of the medipod in just a few seconds. But he didn't stop there; he continued minimizing it further.
This final reduction took more time, about twenty minutes of concentrated effort, until the script was the size of a fist.
This was the smallest he could achieve, though it was still significantly larger than the runes within his runic heart, which were atom-sized.
With the fist-sized runic script prepared, Aron lowered it carefully into the medipod. Nova opened a precise slot on top of the pod, guiding the script through. She then revealed the chest of the body inside, exposing its beating heart.
Aron positioned the script so that it aligned perfectly with the heart and gently lowered it into place.
As the script made contact, it bonded with the heart, etching itself onto it. Once the bonding was complete, he relinquished control, allowing the heart to take over.
The heart immediately began to sustain the script's activation by using the mana within the body's mana vessels.
{I will begin completing the process here, while you can proceed with the others,} Nova said as she activated the mana etching machines within the medipod. She began etching short runic sentences across various parts of the body to enhance the quality of the runic script.
Since the script was a mere copy of some of the active parts of his runic heart and only partially understood, they were employing different patches and fixes to achieve a fraction of the functionality of the original runes.
As Nova worked on the current medipod, Aron moved on to the next one and started repeating the process.
After a full day of meticulous work, Aron finally completed etching the runic script onto the bodies. The process had taken so long due to several mistakes along the way, requiring him to restart the process for a few bodies and take breaks to recover his mental energy.
"How long until you're finished?" he asked, taking a seat to rest.
{It will be about a day before I complete the etching of the remaining runes, implement the subconscious security measures in the brain, and install the current generation of little protagonists,} Nova responded. The bodies remained active, with light flashing on and off hundreds of times per second.
"Alright, I'm going to rest. Let me know when everything is done," Aron said as he started leaving the lab. Nova immediately locked the door behind him, securing the lab and preventing any disturbances during the final stages of the process.
....
The three tree folks monitoring the room exchanged knowing glances.
Although their actions might be seen as spying, they were fully aware that the other side was well aware of their presence. They had previously made it clear that they could observe any location with mana within the star system. As a result, they came to the conclusion that the other side knew of their surveillance but chose not to interfere or show any concern.
They reached this conclusion because his personal room was entirely unobservable to them, indicating that he possessed technology capable of concealing his activities. However, he had chosen not to use it for what he was currently doing in the lab.
"They really went through all this trouble for a body he probably would have just given them if they had asked," Birch said, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Well, we and they didn't know that at the time, so it wasn't something we could consider," Cypress replied, acknowledging the gap in their knowledge.
"Anyway, does anyone understand what he was doing with the symbols he put on the heart?" Crabapple asked, shifting the focus back to the bodies being worked on. "I can't even begin to replicate what he did or make sense of the symbols."
"I think it has something to do with managing or monitoring the mana in the bodies he's creating," Cypress speculated. "Maybe it's to control it or keep track of it in some way."
The debate continued as Cypress and Crabapple exchanged points and counterpoints. After a few minutes of back-and-forth, Birch interjected, "Why not just ask him directly instead of wasting time debating?"
"We will ask him eventually," Crabapple responded. "But part of the joy in research is discovering that your hypotheses were on the right track. It's more satisfying when the answer aligns with your own reasoning," Crabapple said as he rubbed his nonexistent beard.
Do you want to test it out?" Aron asked when the three tree folks used the access he had granted them through their contract to reach out with questions about the bodies he was creating.
Birch responded, "We need physical contact with the body to attempt the transfer of our consciousness."
"That's an easy fix," Aron said, and moments later, the tree folks sensed his personal ship in orbit beginning to deorbit and head toward the planet.
"Anything else you need?" he added.
"What level of consciousness can it handle? Depending on the brain's capacity, the amount of consciousness we can transfer will change, and I don't want the brain to explode right at the start," Crabapple asked.
Aron considered the question before replying, "During the transfer of part of your consciousness into your humanoid bodies, do you do it by cutting a piece of consciousness and inserting it, or is it like pouring water, gradually filling it up until the body reaches its capacity?"
Cypress responded this time, "We can do both, but we typically use the first method since we already know the amount of consciousness each humanoid body can handle."
"Good. Start with the lowest amount you can safely transfer, and then slowly increase it until you feel the body has reached its limit. Don't worry if the body gets damaged—I can remake them. Just don't do it deliberately, as you've seen the time it takes to reconstruct them," Aron said.
As the conversation unfolded, the ship finally arrived and hovered above what seemed to be an empty ocean.
Aron stepped out of the ship's door, and simultaneously, the hologram that had been speaking to the tree folks vanished, replaced by his physical presence.
"Okay, let's start," he said, as though speaking into thin air. Moments later, slender roots emerged from the ocean, gently floating in front of him, awaiting his following command.
Without another word, Aron turned and re-entered the ship, the hovering roots trailing behind him like obedient snakes, following his every move.
Upon arriving at the lab, the three roots wasted no time and headed directly toward the medipod that housed a body of their race. Just as during Aron's rune-etching process, the medipod opened a small entry point, allowing the roots to pass through.
The roots latched onto the heads of the bodies, beginning to pulse rhythmically, signaling the start of the consciousness transfer. Tiny movements could be observed in the bodies as the process continued, subtle but noticeable signs of interaction.
Aron and Nova stood by, carefully watching the process. They activated every available sensor in the lab, ensuring that every minute detail was captured, knowing that this data would be invaluable for future observation and research.
As for the remaining two tree folks—the so-called traitors—they watched with what could only be described as jealousy. Despite Aron creating bodies for them as well, he hadn't spoken to them or invited them to join their fellow tree folks in experiencing the process. They were left to observe, feeling the sting of watching others enjoy what they had risked everything to gain and, ultimately, failed.
"I think this is the maximum the brain can handle," Cypress reported to Aron, speaking through her primary consciousness.
"How much of it did you input?" Aron asked, intrigued by the result.
"Enough to cover fifty core root-mage humanoids," Crabapple answered, his tone carrying a mix of awe and disbelief.
"How many more times can you repeat this process at the same time?" Aron asked, thinking of the possibilities. If they could do it a thousand times, it would mean gaining a thousand strong soldiers—an army that could be incredibly useful.
"Unfortunately, no," Crabapple responded. "The reason we can only create one core humanoid at a time is because the amount of consciousness we input puts a heavy toll on the main consciousness. It takes time to recover after losing such a significant part of itself. With the bodies you gave us, since they're taking fifty times the usual amount, the toll is even greater, and the recovery will take that much longer unless the consciousness is returned to the body to fill the gap it left.
"What happens if the body carrying a part of your consciousness is destroyed? Does it return to your main body, or is it lost forever, leaving your body to take the required period to refill the part lost?" Aron asked.
"The second one happens," Cypress replied. "We can't recover the soul unless we have direct contact with the body containing it."
"Noted," Aron said, mentally filing the information away. At the same time, Nova ensured a physical record was kept for future reference, documenting everything thoroughly in case they needed to revisit the notes later.
"Okay, you can open and move your bodies now," Aron added, giving them permission to start moving in their new physical forms.
"......"
Instead of eyes opening, there was only silence.
"Is there a problem?" Aron asked, materializing a hologram to display the information from the medipods.
"We still have a connection, but it feels like we're in a maze or sluggish goo, and that's hindering our progress," Birch explained.
Aron examined the real-time brain data, noting that the brains were still in a "booting mode." Thanks to the runes, the consciousness placed within was attempting to reconcile with the subconscious, trying to blend the two parts into a single, cohesive entity.
"Don't fight any changes you're feeling," Aron instructed. "What's happening is the consciousness is integrating with the subconscious to operate seamlessly."
Understanding this, the tree folks stopped resisting and allowed the process to unfold naturally.
This continued for ten hours, with Aron and the tree folks maintaining their focus on the process.
After half a full E-day, the bodies' eyes finally opened. At first, they appeared lifeless, but then they showed signs of vitality as life entered them.
"Damn," was the only utterance from the two traitors, their voices tinged with defeat. Their hopes for the situation to unravel had not come to pass; instead, everything had worked seamlessly.