The northern path did not welcome them.
It recoiled.
Branches bent away as if in fear. The moss beneath their feet shivered like skin recoiling from heat. The air grew thin and brittle, carrying faint crackling snaps of mana—like distant lightning trapped in vines.
The Heartwood had warned them.
The Creator was forcing an opening—somewhere ahead—in a place the forest itself refused to touch.
Zerrei's Heartglow trembled in response. Not in fear, but in recognition.
This is where he's reaching from the other side.
Lyra matched his pace, one hand close but not gripping, giving him space yet staying near enough that he never needed to search for her presence.
Arden walked a few steps behind, muttering that he hated walking toward "creepy death zones" but that he would also be personally offended if anyone tried to go without him.
Oren kept scanning the air with trembling fingers, reading distortions no one else could see.
Vessel Five stayed opposite Lyra—massive, silent, alert—every step grounded in purpose it hadn't possessed days ago.
The forest changed the deeper they traveled.
The trees thinned.
The shadows lengthened.
The Pulse grew fainter—like a heartbeat under strain.
Zerrei whispered, "The forest is hurting."
Oren nodded grimly. "The resonance field is unstable. The Creator's interference is disrupting its mana pathways."
Arden frowned. "Meaning?"
"Meaning," Oren said, "the forest is bleeding."
Zerrei stopped walking.
He stared ahead.
There—far beyond a narrow stretch of trembling roots—light poured upward from the ground.
Not sunlight.
Not firelight.
Mana light.
Raw.
Violent.
Bleeding like a wound carved into the world.
Zerrei felt it in his bones—if he had bones to feel it.
"That's the rift," he whispered.
Lyra looked ahead, jaw tightening. "Describe it."
Zerrei stepped forward slowly, unable to tear his eyes away.
"It shouldn't… be open. The forest didn't open it. He's tearing his way through."
Arden grimaced. "Like a wild animal digging through a wall."
"No," Oren corrected gravely. "Like a scientist forcing a locked door."
Zerrei drew a shaking breath. "It feels wrong."
His vision flickered at the edges.
His Heartglow pulsed irregularly.
The golden-thread mark heated—like a warning.
Lyra touched his arm. "Slow. Stay with us."
He nodded, though his hands trembled.
As they drew closer, the ground took on a crystalline sheen, glowing faint blue-white. Mana sparks danced above it, drifting upward in slow spirals like dying fireflies. The trees here were dead—not fallen, but petrified in place, bark hardened into brittle stone.
Arden tapped one with his axe. It crumbled at the touch.
"Okay," he muttered. "Add dead tree powder to my list of things I hate."
Lyra tilted her head. "Do not touch anything else."
"Touch nothing," Oren echoed. "This area is unstable. Step carefully. Speak softly."
Arden huffed. "What, is it going to explode if we breathe too loud?"
The ground beneath his foot cracked.
Light seeped out.
A ripple of energy traveled through the soil.
Arden froze. "Okay! I retract my statement!"
Oren grabbed him and yanked him back. "YES. IT LITERALLY WILL EXPLODE."
Lyra glared. "Arden."
"I SAID I'M SORRY!"
Zerrei took another step.
Then another.
The forest trembled as he approached the rift.
Vessel Five strode ahead suddenly, blocking him.
"…Zerrei… danger level… critical…"
"I know," Zerrei whispered. "But I feel like… I have to see it."
"…reject…" Vessel Five growled. "…Creator… presence… high…"
Zerrei looked up.
At the center of the clearing, the rift bled light.
A jagged tear ran across the ground—glowing with searing brilliance and spiraling mana currents. It wasn't a hole. It wasn't a portal. It was a wound—
A raw incision into the fabric of the forest's essence.
From within the rift, arcs of blue-white light pulsed violently.
The Creator's influence.
Zerrei's legs weakened.
His Heartglow fluttered.
Pain flashed across his chest.
Lyra grabbed him just as he stumbled. "Zerrei—stay grounded. Right here. Breathe."
"I feel him," Zerrei gasped.
Oren turned sharply. "The Creator?"
"Yes." Zerrei pressed a hand to his chest, fingers gripping the golden-thread mark. "He's pushing through. He's tethering his mana across this rift."
Arden squinted at the glowing wound. "How close is he?"
Zerrei's voice trembled.
"He's not far. And he's… trying to step through."
Oren paled. "No. No no no. He cannot step through. His physical body entering the Spinewood would be catastrophic."
Lyra steadied Zerrei with a firm grip. "What do you see?"
Zerrei looked deeper.
Inside the rift, something shifted.
Not a silhouette.
Not a person.
A pulse.
Another.
And another.
Each one felt like it was calling his name.
Except not calling.
Claiming.
Zerrei's hands shook violently.
"He's trying to lock onto me again."
Lyra kept her voice calm but firm. "Can you resist?"
"I don't know," he whispered. "I'm stronger than before, but he's… so close."
Vessel Five snarled—a real, animalistic growl this time.
"…Creator… presence… intrusion… imminent…"
Zerrei reached out.
Not physically.
But with his senses.
Inside the rift, threads of mana lashed outward—blue-white lines that writhed like serpents in the air. They sought connection. Sought structure. Sought him.
The forest fought back—roots tightening, mana flaring, air trembling.
But the Creator's push was relentless.
Lyra stepped in front of Zerrei. "We're not letting him reach you."
Zerrei shook his head. "He doesn't want me. He wants the Heartwood."
Oren stiffened. "But he needs you to stabilize the breach."
Arden threw his arms up. "WHAT?! Why always him?!"
Oren pointed. "Because Zerrei is a vessel—the only vessel who has ever resonated with both the Creator and the forest."
Lyra's hand tightened around her sword.
Zerrei whispered, "He's leveraging my resonance. Using it like a wedge."
Vessel Five towered over Zerrei protectively, claws dug deep.
"…attack… breach… destroy…"
"No!" Zerrei stumbled forward and grabbed Vessel Five's arm. "If you hit it, it'll rupture further!"
Vessel Five froze mid-motion.
"…threat… persists…"
Zerrei shook his head. "We have to stabilize it—slow him down—not tear it more open."
Arden sputtered. "We're STOPPING a literal tear in the universe? How?!"
Oren turned to Zerrei. "Can you interact with the rift?"
Zerrei hesitated. "Maybe."
Lyra frowned. "Describe 'maybe'."
"I can feel the part of the breach that reacts to me," Zerrei explained. "It's calling to the vessel mana inside me. If I… steady myself, I might be able to press back."
Arden blinked. "Press back? You're going to argue with a hole?"
Zerrei nearly laughed despite himself. "It's not a hole. It's… a connection."
"Which is worse," Arden said.
Oren pointed toward the glowing tear. "You might be the only one who can stabilize it without forcing a catastrophic mana clash."
"And if I fail?" Zerrei whispered.
Oren swallowed. "Then the rift amplifies the Creator's reach."
Vessel Five growled.
"…Zerrei… must not… fail…"
Lyra placed a gentle but firm hand on Zerrei's back.
"You are not doing this alone," she said. "You touched the Heartwood. You survived its truth. You say your name now without fear."
Zerrei breathed shakily. "…most of the time."
"That's enough," Lyra said softly. "But let us help you. We don't anchor you—we stand with you."
Arden flexed his arms. "I'll punch the air around it. If that helps."
"It absolutely will not," Oren muttered.
Arden shrugged. "I'll do it anyway."
Zerrei faced the rift.
His Heartglow pulsed slowly—
then quicker—
then steadier.
The golden-thread mark flared.
Vessel Five crouched beside him.
"…Zerrei… direct me…"
"No," Zerrei whispered. "Choose how you want to help."
Vessel Five paused.
Then stood tall.
"…I guard."
Arden moved to Zerrei's right.
Oren to his left.
Lyra behind him, grounding him.
Zerrei stepped forward.
He placed his hand over the shimmering wound.
And the world convulsed.
Light burst from the rift—
Blinding.
Cold.
Searing.
Zerrei screamed—not in pain, but from the shock of connection.
He felt the Creator's presence brush against his Corelink—
Not entering.
Not controlling.
Just reaching.
"Zerrei."
His voice was soft.
Patient.
Predatory.
Lyra shouted, "ZERREI, STAY WITH US!"
Arden roared some unholy battle cry.
Oren chanted a protective counter-beat.
Vessel Five slammed its claws into the ground, anchoring Zerrei's body physically.
Zerrei gasped, "He's trying… to pull… my identity back into him—"
Lyra's voice cut like a blade. "No one owns your identity."
The golden-thread mark glowed.
Zerrei whispered, voice splitting with strain—
"I… am… Zerrei…"
The forest Pulse surged through him in answer.
The rift shuddered.
The tether snapped.
Zerrei collapsed backward—caught immediately by Lyra and Vessel Five.
The rift dimmed.
No longer bleeding light.
But still open.
Still dangerous.
Zerrei gasped for breath he didn't need.
Lyra held him firmly. "You did it."
"No," Zerrei whispered, chest aching. "I delayed him."
Oren's face paled. "Delayed?"
Zerrei nodded.
"He is still coming."
Arden groaned. "OF COURSE HE IS. Of course he is."
Vessel Five stepped beside Zerrei.
"…Zerrei… safe?"
"Not yet," Zerrei whispered. "But together—yes."
Lyra tightened her grip on his shoulders.
"We go forward," she said.
Zerrei lifted his gaze toward the trembling horizon.
Toward the place the Creator would breach next.
"Yes," he whispered.
"We go forward."