The Amazon at night was alive in ways that had nothing to do with nature. Moonlight scattered across the mist rising from the river, illuminating trees whose roots glowed faintly blue-green, pulsing in rhythm with a heartbeat that was not entirely hers to feel. Maya crouched on a riverbank, notebook clutched to her chest, eyes wide as shadows moved unnaturally among the trees.
The animals were restless—more than restless. Monkeys screeched in perfect, synchronized intervals; birds circled above in tight patterns; and the jaguar eyes she glimpsed through the underbrush were not hunting—they were guarding. Every living creature seemed to acknowledge the pulse of the black roots weaving beneath the forest floor.
Her fingers brushed against the vial containing the glowing root fragment. It vibrated, responding to some unseen command. The pulse intensified, syncing with her own heartbeat, her breath, the river, the forest—until she realized the vibrations were transmitting far beyond her senses. The Earth itself was calling, and she could hear it.
Suddenly, the crackle of radios shattered the night. Unknown operatives—Project Vein—had breached the perimeter. She heard the click of weapons charging, the low thrum of advanced tech. Her team scattered; shouts pierced the humid air, but she didn't move toward safety. She had to understand. She had to witness.
The river's surface shimmered unnaturally, reflecting visions from continents far away. She saw Jianyu gripping the black book beneath the Great Wall, Lena tracing glowing spirals in Peru, Akio being swallowed by Siberia's black veins, David standing before the splitting ice of Antarctica.
The glowing root in her hand lifted
slightly, levitating as if buoyed by some invisible current. Maya's heart leapt. A sudden, synchronous vision slammed into her mind: a colossal tree, its roots spanning oceans and forests, connecting them all. Shadows moved along its trunk, flickering with shapes she couldn't yet comprehend.
She ducked as an operative lunged toward her. The root flared, emitting a burst of light so bright it temporarily blinded the intruders. Jungle animals formed a protective circle around her, growling and hissing in unison. The operatives retreated, but the pulse persisted, relentless, like the heartbeat of the planet itself.
Her notebook pages fluttered in the humid breeze, and the sketches of roots, spirals, and veins moved of their own accord, connecting continents, flowing into one grand, global sigil. Maya realized with awe—and terror—that they were being gathered, called, chosen.
"We're conduits," she whispered to herself, voice trembling. "We are the witnesses."
The root in her vial wriggled like a living creature, slipping from her fingers and embedding itself into the soil. Light spread from it, illuminating the river, the forest, and the glowing canopy above.
She could see the veins of the world connecting beneath her, under every continent, under every ocean, pulsing faster, louder.
-
Cliffhanger – Part IV:
The glowing root quivered violently, then shot a black tendril toward the sky. The jungle erupted with sound and movement, the air thick with electricity. Maya looked up—and saw the horizon above the canopy bending unnaturally, the pulse so intense it felt like the Earth itself was taking a breath.
"All witnesses… converge… now," the voice echoed in her mind, the same across every continent.
Maya realized that no one could hide, no one could run. The Earth's awakening was unstoppable—and she was standing at its center.