Kim Jisoo didn't announce the plan. He simply put on his jacket, checked the charge on his wrist device, and picked up the keys.
Lee Hana watched him from the lab couch, chewing on a protein bar. "You have that look."
"What look?" he asked, eyes still on the scanner.
"The look that says, 'I am about to do something dangerous, and I have already decided you're coming with me.'"
He paused. Considered. "Accurate."
She sighed and stood up. "Great. Let me guess—forest?"
"Yes."
"The creepy one?"
"Yes."
"The one with the glowing tree that may or may not be an alien organ?"
"Also yes."
She stared at him. "You know, most people go on dates or to cafés when reality hasn't collapsed yet."
"I don't like crowds," he said calmly.
She grabbed her jacket. "You don't like people."
They left the lab just as the sun reached its highest point. The world outside still looked normal—too normal. Cars passed. Shops were open. People laughed, argued, lived. And yet, to Kim Jisoo's eyes, everything was layered with faint structures of light, invisible architectures threading through air and matter.
He squinted slightly.
Lee Hana noticed. "You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"That thing where you look like you're reading subtitles no one else can see."
"I'm mapping energy density," he replied.
"Uh-huh. And I'm mapping my chances of dying today."
They took the jeep. As the city thinned into outskirts, the colors changed. To Lee Hana, it was just trees and asphalt. To Kim Jisoo, the air grew denser, heavier, like invisible fog made of light.
The forest appeared darker than it should have been. Sunlight entered—but didn't spread.
Kim Jisoo slowed the vehicle.
Lee Hana leaned forward. "Okay, no. That's wrong. Forests are supposed to be noisy. Why is it so quiet?"
He parked. Turned off the engine.
"Because something is absorbing ambient sound waves," he said.
She stared at him. "You could've just said 'because it's creepy.'"
They stepped inside.
The forest swallowed them.
Humidity pressed against their skin immediately, thick and sticky. The air felt old, like it hadn't moved in years. Leaves crunched too loudly underfoot, every step echoing more than it should.
Lee Hana whispered, "I swear, if something jumps out, I'm pushing you first."
"Statistically inefficient," Kim Jisoo said. "I'm more valuable alive."
She scoffed. "You say that like it's comforting."
They walked deeper. The light thinned. Shadows stretched unnaturally long, bending at angles that made no sense. Kim Jisoo stopped suddenly.
Lee Hana nearly ran into him. "What—?"
"Don't move."
She froze instantly. "I moved already."
"Stop moving now."
She obeyed.
Kim Jisoo crouched, touching the ground. To his eyes, the soil pulsed faintly green, veins of energy running through roots like capillaries.
"The energy gradient changes here," he murmured. "This is the boundary."
"Boundary of what?" she asked, very quietly.
He stood. Pointed forward.
"The tree."
They saw it then.
At first, it looked like a trick of light—a shimmer between trunks. But as they stepped closer, the forest opened around a small clearing, and the tree stood at its center like a quiet god.
Its bark was pale, almost white, etched with faint glowing lines that pulsed slowly, like breathing. The leaves were translucent, refracting sunlight into soft rainbows that drifted down instead of falling.
Lee Hana's mouth fell open. "Okay. I take it back. This is not normal."
Kim Jisoo's heart beat faster—not in fear, but recognition.
The air around the tree was saturated with energy. To his altered vision, it was blinding—a massive knot of photonic and gravitational forces intertwined, perfectly stable.
"A self-sustaining energy singularity," he whispered. "Anchored to organic matter."
Lee Hana blinked. "English."
"This tree shouldn't exist."
She nodded. "That part I got."
As they stepped into the clearing, the forest reacted.
The air vibrated. Leaves rustled without wind. Lee Hana grabbed Kim Jisoo's sleeve. "Tell me you felt that."
"Yes."
"Tell me it's not angry."
"…Undetermined."
She hissed, "That's not reassuring!"
Kim Jisoo approached slowly. Each step made the glowing lines on the bark brighten, responding to him like a living sensor.
The System's voice echoed in his mind. You are resonating.
"I thought so," he muttered.
Lee Hana whipped her head around. "What? Who are you talking to?"
"No one you can hear."
"That's worse!"
He reached out, stopping just short of touching the bark. The energy surged—not violently, but eagerly.
Images flooded his mind.
A dying world. A shattered sky. Roots growing through bone and metal alike. A voice—not words, but intent.
Anchor.
He staggered back, breathing hard.
Lee Hana caught him. "Hey! Scientist! Stay with me!"
He steadied himself. "This tree isn't just a plant. It's a stabilizer."
"For what?" she asked.
"For reality," he said softly.
She went quiet.
After a moment, she said, "You know, you could've led with that."
Kim Jisoo smiled faintly despite himself.
The ground trembled lightly. Something shifted at the edge of the clearing—movement too smooth to be an animal.
Lee Hana stiffened. "Please tell me that's a rabbit."
Kim Jisoo's eyes narrowed. He could see the distortion now—something slipping between layers, attracted by the tree's energy.
"No," he said. "It's curious."
"That's worse than angry."
The distortion edged closer, air warping around it like heat haze.
Lee Hana whispered, "So what's the plan?"
Kim Jisoo took a breath. His instincts hummed—not screaming, but alert.
"We observe," he said. "And we don't touch anything."
The distortion paused. Then retreated, melting back into the forest as if it had never been there.
The clearing stilled.
Lee Hana let out a shaky laugh. "Did we just scare it off by existing awkwardly?"
"Possibly," Kim Jisoo said. "Or it decided we weren't worth the effort."
She crossed her arms. "Rude."
They stood there for a long moment, the glowing tree pulsing gently between them.
Lee Hana glanced at him sideways. "So… you saw this before the apocalypse last time?"
"Yes."
"And it survived?"
"Yes."
She swallowed. "Then this thing is important."
"It's more than important," he said. "It's proof."
"Of what?"
"That this world isn't collapsing," Kim Jisoo replied. "It's transforming. And some structures are meant to survive the transition. And from what I think, There should be 8 or 11 more Anchors in various form to protect this reality. I think that's what the people of past did."
She looked at the tree again, then at him. "What do you think we should do now?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Finally, he said, "That depends on what I choose to do when I can conclude all the possible outcomes as to why this tree can exist."
The light filtered through the leaves, casting shifting colors over them both. For a moment, just a moment, the forest didn't feel hostile.
It felt like it was watching.
Waiting.
Lee Hana broke the silence. "Okay. We've seen the magical apocalypse tree. Can we leave before something decides we're snacks?"
Kim Jisoo nodded. "Yes."
As they turned to go, the tree pulsed once, brighter than before.
Kim Jisoo paused. Felt a faint warmth at his chest.
A message, not in words but certainty:
Return.
He exhaled slowly. Should he go and check the tree again?
Lee Hana tugged his sleeve. "You coming, Green Eyes?"
He followed her out of the clearing, heart heavy with knowledge and possibility.
Behind them, the glowing tree stood silent, rooted deep in a future that had not yet decided what to become.