The aftermath was swift, at least from where Riley was standing.
One moment, they were trapped inside a botanic nightmare, a coliseum of thorns reaching for the smoggy clouds. The next, the monster died, and its magic died with it. The towering walls of woven vines disintegrated. They turned into a fine, grey powder that drifted on the wind like snow in hell, revealing the jagged, broken teeth of the ruined city skyline once more.
The cage was gone. The chaos, however, was just getting started.
Over by the gaping black pit in the center of the plaza, humanity was doing what it did best. Screaming. Shoving. Clawing. It was a frantic, ugly dogpile of desperate players, all scrambling over each other to get to the glimmering prize that sat in the smoke.
Riley let out a small, sharp breath through her nose. She rolled her eyes, a slow, deliberate motion that encompassed the entire pathetic scene, and turned her back on it. She didn't want to watch. It was embarrassing.
To be fair, a Diamond Chest sounded nice. It sounded sparkly. It sounded expensive. In any other life, Riley might have been right there in the mud, throwing elbows for a chance at it. But right now? She couldn't muster a single ounce of interest. Her greed meter was sitting at a solid zero.
Because, let's be honest here. What could be in that box that she didn't already have?
She had a Safe Zone that was basically a cheat code for immortality. She had a store that could photocopy reality and spit out infinite supplies for a handful of pocket change. She had luxury tents, a magic bidet, and a personal small team of super-soldiers. What was she missing? A shinier sword? A helmet with better stats?
Maybe those things were good. Maybe they were great. But were they worth diving into that meat grinder of sweaty, desperate lunatics? Were they worth the inevitable drama, the backstabbing, and the headache?
Nope. Not even close.
Besides, her base wasn't far. It was a three-hour drive, sure, but in the grand scheme of things, that was practically next door. Regardless of which gang or lucky idiot claimed the chest, the power balance in this city was about to shift. And Riley, being a sensible woman who enjoyed her peace and quiet, didn't want any part of the fallout.
Of course, people were greedy little creatures. Just because she was walking away didn't mean they wouldn't come looking for trouble later. Her neutrality wasn't a shield. But sticking around was just asking for a target to be painted on her back.
She adjusted her blazer, smoothing out an invisible wrinkle.
"Let's go," she said.
Her voice was calm. It wasn't a shout, just a simple statement of fact dropped into the dusty air.
The others didn't argue. They didn't ask questions. They saw the chaos behind them, saw the cool, retreating figure of their leader, and fell into step. They turned away from the allure of the diamond light without a second of hesitation.
They walked across the rubble, their boots crunching on the gravel in a steady, disciplined rhythm. No one looked back at the screaming mob. No one glanced at the prize.
It was time to go home.
Back at the battered fortress of the office block, efficiency was the name of the game. There were no long goodbyes, no tearful glances at the cracking paint. The people who had chosen to leave were ready.
They gathered in the courtyard, a small army of the desperate and the hopeful. Slung over their shoulders were backpacks that looked tragically light. It turned out, when the world ends, you don't have much baggage worth keeping.
Riley did a quick head count, her eyes scanning the rows.
First, her core team: herself, the brawler, the swordsman, the angel, and the laser-kid. Five.
Then, David's crew: the tank-dad, water-girl Carly, disc-boy Charles, and muscle-man Ron. Four.
The little mascots: Mia and Leo. Two.
And finally, the new hires. Eleven people who had decided that fighting monsters was better than starving in the dark. Nine were young adults with nervous energy, plus a middle-aged couple holding hands like they were on a terrifying second date.
Twenty-two people. A nice, round number.
Riley glanced up at the darkened windows of the building one last time. Faces peered out from behind the grime, eyes filled with fear and envy. Did she grab a megaphone? Did she offer one last chance for salvation?
No.
The bus had left the station. The ticket booth was closed. People made their choices, and Riley respected that. If they wanted to rot in a concrete box, that was their prerogative. She wasn't a missionary; she was a landlady with a schedule to keep.
Now, for the journey. They could pile into the SUV like a clown car, make multiple trips, or trek across the wasteland for hours, exposing themselves to zombies, monkeys, and sunburn.
Or, she could burn some cash.
Riley pulled up her interface. The new Level 3 feature,
The cost? One hundred Coins per head.
She did the mental math and flinched. Twenty-two hundred Coins. That was a fortune. That was a mountain of dead rabbits. That was enough to furnish a very nice living room. A phantom pain shot through her wallet, a sharp sting of frugal regret.
But she looked at the exhausted faces of the children. She looked at the darkening sky. She thought about the unpredictable wasteland.
With a heavy sigh, she paid the price. Money comes and goes, she told herself, but getting eaten by a zombie is permanent.
"Group up," she ordered, her voice cutting through the murmurs. "Close your eyes if you have a weak stomach."
She didn't wait for questions. She triggered the skill.
A hum, low and vibrating, filled the air. Then, columns of brilliant white light crashed down from the heavens. It wasn't violent; it was absolute. It wrapped around David, who looked like he was about to panic. It swallowed Emma, who just grinned. It took them all.
In the blink of an eye, the courtyard was empty. Only the swirling dust remained to prove anyone had been there at all. They were gone.
The transition was instantaneous. One moment, they were standing in the suffocating, dust-choked air of a dying city, and the next, a cool breeze carried the sweet, familiar scent of grass and damp earth into their lungs.
Riley opened her eyes. The bruised purple sky was gone, replaced by the calm, twilight canopy of her own domain. The magical fire pit in the center of the camp was still burning with a steady, golden glow, casting long, comforting shadows across the emerald grass. The three magnificent yurts stood exactly where she had left them, their silver-threaded canvas shimmering faintly.
It was silent. It was safe. It was home.
"Papa! Look!"
The silence was broken by a squeal of pure delight. Mia, who had been clinging to David's leg just seconds before, released him and sprinted towards the row of leafy bushes near the fence. She grabbed her father's hand, dragging the large man along with surprising strength. "Red berries! Leo, come on!"
Leo didn't need to be told twice. The two children, their fear forgotten in the face of this impossible, peaceful garden, giggled as they ran.
The new recruits stood frozen, their eyes wide as they took in their surroundings. They looked at the sturdy wooden fence, the glowing fire, the impossible greenery, and the sheer, overwhelming peace of it all. It was like stepping out of hell and landing in a postcard.
Riley watched them for a moment, then turned her gaze to the luxury tents. A pang of regret pricked at her. They were beautiful. They were cozy. They had served their purpose well.
"We're going to have to take those down," she said, her voice quiet.
"What?"
A weight settled on her back as Emma draped her arms around Riley's neck from behind, resting her chin on Riley's shoulder. The brawler smelled of ozone and sweat, but her presence was warm. "Aw, come on, girlie," Emma whined playfully into her ear. "Why tear them down? They're super comfy! Can't we just build a few more?"
Riley rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She gently but firmly disentangled herself from Emma's embrace and stepped forward, creating a little distance. She needed to address the group. She needed to be the Landowner.
"Welcome," she said, her voice clear and carrying easily in the stillness.
She turned to face the people standing on her grass. She stood straight, her hands clasped loosely in front of her, the very picture of calm authority.
"Welcome to my Safe Zone."
Yes, her Safe Zone.
She gestured to the space around them. "As I told you before, this is a sanctuary. Here, you will be provided with food, clean water, shelter, and clothes. The basic necessities for survival in this post-apocalyptic world are guaranteed."
She met their eyes, one by one. "I trust that what this zone offers far exceeds the conditions you were living in back at that office building."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the newcomers. Exceeds? It was a different universe.
"In exchange," Riley continued, her tone firming, "I expect you to contribute. We build this place together. We develop it together. If you work, you live well."
She smiled then. It wasn't her corporate smile, nor was it a warm, friendly grin. It was a smile of absolute confidence.
This, she realized, feeling the hum of the system in the back of her mind, was what power felt like. Out there, in the wild, she might be cautious. She might be careful. But here? Within these fences? She was god. Every blade of grass, every gust of wind, every structure existed because she allowed it.
She opened her
Refund.
There was no sound of demolition, no crashing timber. The tents simply dissolved into streams of golden light and vanished, leaving the grass beneath them pressed flat but otherwise untouched. A collective gasp went up from the newcomers, and even Emma let out a sad little noise.
"As for accommodation..." Riley murmured, her eyes scanning the build menu.
She selected the new blueprint she had unlocked at Level 3. She positioned five of them in a neat row, spacing them out perfectly.
Confirm.
The ground rumbled, a deep, satisfied sound. Then, gold light erupted from the earth. It didn't just shimmer, it built. Wood wove itself out of thin air, glass crystallized, and stone set itself into foundations. In the span of a heartbeat, five structures slammed into existence.
"Those small wooden houses should be suitable," Riley said, brushing her hands together as if she had just finished tidying a shelf.
The silence that followed was heavy.
"Small?" Michael asked. His voice was flat, but his eyebrow was twitching.
"Girlie," Emma said, staring up at the structures. "Those things cannot be called 'small wooden houses'."
Riley smirked.
Okay, maybe the system's naming convention was a little humble.
The buildings standing before them were two full stories tall. They were crafted from polished, dark timber that looked both rustic and incredibly expensive. They had wide porches, large glass windows that gleamed in the firelight, and pitched roofs with elegant chimneys. They weren't shacks. They were chalets. They were the kind of vacation homes millionaires rented in the Alps.
"They're decent," Riley admitted, admiring the craftsmanship.
According to the blueprint details, each "small" house contained a spacious living area, a kitchen, two bathrooms (with the magical plumbing included, thank god), and four separate bedrooms upstairs.
It was hard to believe. Just one level up, and her Safe Zone had graduated from glamping tents to suburban luxury. If Level 3 gave her this, what would Level 4 bring? A castle? A skyscraper? The potential was dizzying.
She turned back to the group, waving a hand at the row of houses.
"You can decide the room allocations yourselves," she said. "I don't think it will be a problem."
It wasn't. The logistics were simple enough. David would obviously take a room with Mia. Luca and Leo were inseparable, so they would bunk together. The middle-aged couple would share. The new recruits could fill out the rest.
"Go ahead," she dismissed them. "Get settled."
As the stunned newcomers began to drift towards their new homes, reaching out to touch the smooth wood as if testing to see if it was real, Riley headed for the first house in the row.
This one was for the core team.
She pushed open the front door. The interior smelled of fresh pine and clean linen. It was fully furnished. A sturdy wooden dining table, comfortable chairs, a soft rug in the living area. It was simple, yes, but aesthetic in a way that felt curated.
She climbed the stairs to the second floor and opened the first door she found.
Her bedroom.
It was perfect. A large, double bed dominated the room, piled high with thick blankets and pillows that looked like they could swallow a person whole. A wardrobe stood in the corner, waiting to be filled.
But the most important feature was in the hallway downstairs. Riley had checked the blueprint. She walked back down and opened a small, discreet panel near the kitchen.
Inside was a complex array of crystalline circuits leading to a single, empty slot. The power core.
She reached into her bag, pulled out a Monster Core, and clicked it into place.
Immediately, the house hummed to life. A soft, warm light flooded the room from the fixtures on the walls. She heard the faint sound of water pressurizing in the pipes.
One house. Four bedrooms.
Riley, Emma, Michael, and Andy.
It was a tight fit, perhaps, but it felt right. They were the first. They were the ones who had started this.
"Not bad," she whispered to the empty room. "Not bad at all."
With the housing crisis solved, the atmosphere in the base shifted from "desperate survival" to something resembling a "post-apocalyptic summer camp." The sheer novelty of running water and soft beds kept everyone in a state of dazed euphoria for the rest of the afternoon.
Riley took advantage of the lull to organize a barbecue. Using the kitchen and the new fire pit, they grilled skewer after skewer of the rabbit meat they had harvested from the dungeon. The scent of roasting meat and savory spices drifted through the camp, anchoring the newcomers to their new reality. It wasn't five-star dining, but compared to the stale crackers and fear they had been living on, it was a feast fit for kings.
While everyone ate, Riley played the role of the diligent HR manager. She circulated among the new recruits, a skewer in one hand and a mental notepad in the other.
Most of the nine younger recruits can fight. They had offensive skills - basic, unrefined, and nowhere near the catastrophic power of Emma or Michael - but functional. They could handle the stray monsters in the meadow. They could patrol. They were useful muscle.
Speaking of patrol, Riley realized the wooden fence, while sturdy, offered zero visibility.
She opened her build menu. Level 3 had unlocked
She walked to the four corners of her territory. With a series of satisfying thuds, four tall, sturdy wooden towers erupted from the ground. They commanded a perfect view of the surrounding green sea. She assigned shifts immediately. Having eyes in the sky made the Safe Zone feel less like a cage and more like a fortress.
But the real jackpot wasn't the fighters. It was the quiet, middle-aged couple.
Cyrus, a man with graying temples and gentle eyes, adjusted his glasses nervously. "I was a general practitioner before," he explained. "But my skill... it's called
Riley stopped chewing. "Potion making?"
"I can brew liquids with magical properties," Cyrus said. "Healing draughts, stamina boosters... provided I have the herbs."
"And I," his wife, Elanor, chimed in with a warm smile, "have
Riley stared at them. She felt a profound sense of relief wash over her.
She could do those things with
"You two," Riley said, her voice dripping with genuine appreciation, "are hired. Permanently."
By the time night fell, the camp was quiet. The patrols were set. The belly of every member was full. Riley retreated to her room, exhausted but satisfied. There was still work to be done. The Safe Zone was crowded now. She needed to expand the territory, push the fences back, maybe create some farmland. She checked the price for land expansion. It was steep. Her wallet, currently recovering from the teleportation fee, wept.
She sat on the edge of her massive, fluffy bed, ready to call it a night.
Ding.
A soft chime echoed in her head.
[Calculating rewards for the slaying of Boss
Riley sat up straight. Finally.
[Participation Reward: 1,000 Coins.]
[Last Hit Bonus: 10,000 Coins.]
A grin stretched across her face. Eleven thousand coins. That was a serious injection of capital. That solved her immediate cash flow problems instantly.
Ding.
[You have received a
A box materialized on her duvet. It wasn't the plain wood or even the glossy cardboard she had seen before. This box was heavy, black lacquer with gold trim, radiating an aura of expensive mystery.
"Well then," Riley whispered, rubbing her hands together. "Let's see what daddy got me."
She opened the lid. It wasn't just one item. It was a cornucopia.
First, a heavy velvet pouch. She checked it. Another 5,000 Coins. That brought her total haul to sixteen thousand. Fantastic.
Next, a
Then came the cores. A literal pile of them. Ten Grade D cores - the size of softballs, pulsing with power. Fifty Grade E cores. One hundred Grade F cores. It was enough fuel to power her luxury houses for months, or enough ammo to level a small mountain range.
Riley blinked, feeling a little lightheaded. This was a lot. But the box wasn't empty.
She pulled out a strange, metallic cube.
[Item: Coin Converter (Grade B)]
Riley raised an eyebrow. That was interesting... but, next. Next was a magnifying glass with a handle made of pure gold.
[Item: Copying Glass (Grade S)]
Riley stopped breathing for a second. Grade S? Seriously?!
But there was one last thing.
At the bottom of the box, resting on a satin cushion, was a seed. It didn't look like wood or organic matter. It looked like a diamond, faceted and brilliant, pulsing with a blinding white light that lit up the darkened bedroom.
[Item: World Tree Seed (Grade SSS)]
Riley froze.
She sat there, cross-legged on her bed, staring at the glittering diamond seed. The silence in the room was deafening.
One lucky break was a fluke. Two was a coincidence. But this?
First the Safe Zone. Then the Store. Now a literal World Tree Seed? Grade SSS?
Riley looked up at the ceiling of her wooden chalet. She narrowed her eyes, peering into the ether.
"Okay," she whispered to the empty air. "Who is doing this? Is there a Goddess of Luck up there? Are you bored? Am I your favorite reality TV show?"
It was suspicious. It was terrifying. But as she closed her hand around the diamond seed, feeling its warm, rhythmic pulse against her palm, a smile crept onto her face.
If the universe wanted to spoil her rotten, who was she to say no?
Riley took a deep, centering breath, forcing her spine to straighten even further against the plush pillows. She was sitting on a literal fortune, but panic, or excessive excitement, was bad for business.
"Okay," she breathed.
She swept the 5,000 Coins and the mountain of monster cores into her inventory with a casual wave of her hand. That was the easy part. Liquid capital and fuel. Essential, but boring.
Next came the Skill Seed.
Riley picked up the crystal. She didn't pray for a meteor strike spell. She didn't hope for super strength. She had accepted her lot in life as the world's most over-powered logistics manager. With a face devoid of expectation, she crushed the crystal.
Ding.
[You have awakened the Grade C hidden skill:
Riley's eyebrow twitched. A vending machine. Of course. Why would it be anything else? But before she could even summon the energy to be sarcastic about her new ability to dispense snacks, a second chime rang out, sharper and more authoritative than the first.
[Skill
Riley's mouth opened to form a confused "Huh?", then snapped shut. She didn't waste time wondering. She swiped open her
And there it was. A new tab, glowing softly in the menu.
She clicked on it, and the details flooded her mind.
It cost 500 Coins to construct a single machine. Each unit had 10 slots. She could fill those slots with any item she had previously scanned into her
The selling price was set by the user - her, but the minimum price was locked at 110% of the Store's base cost. When a player bought an item, the system instantly deducted the original 100% cost to generate the item, and the remaining profit went directly into Riley's pocket.
"Fucking god dammit," she whispered, a slow, incredulous smile spreading across her face.
This wasn't a vending machine. This was a dropshipping empire.
She didn't have to stock it. She didn't have to manage inventory. She didn't have to craft a single thing. She just set the machine up, picked the products, jacked up the price, and let the system handle the logistics while she collected the markup. It was the ultimate passive income.
"This is brilliant," she murmured, tapping her chin. "I absolutely love it."
It solved her biggest looming headache. She couldn't keep handing out free food, clothes, and tools forever. That was a recipe for a dependency culture, and Riley didn't run a daycare. With this, the survivors would have to work, hunt, and earn Coins to buy their own upgrades. It closed the economic loop perfectly.
She decided not to build one just yet. The colony was still in its infancy, most people were broke. She'd wait until the economy heated up a bit.
Next, she reached for the metallic cube. The
[Item
Another integration? Riley watched as the cube dissolved into light and vanished, reappearing as a new function in her interface.
The description was simple and beautiful. She could throw literally anything into this virtual hopper - trash, broken weapons, useless loot, rocks she didn't like - and the system would break it down and pay her 80% of its determined value in Coins.
"Nice," she said, nodding in approval.
It was a recycling bin that paid her cash. No waste, no clutter, just pure efficiency.
She leaned back against the headboard, feeling a deep, profound sense of satisfaction. She was rich. She was powerful. And she had the tools to turn this meadow into a metropolis.
But there were still two items left in the box. And these... these were the heavy hitters.
She reached for the magnifying glass with the handle of pure gold. The
This time, there was no chime announcing an integration. The magnifying glass sat heavy and cold in her hand.
Riley squinted at it.
[Description: Allows the user to permanently copy one skill from another player.]
Riley stopped breathing. The silence in the room seemed to stretch, thin and brittle, until it snapped under the weight of her sudden, electric realization.
Permanently copy a skill.
A surge of adrenaline, sharp and potent, flooded her veins. Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She wanted to bolt. She wanted to kick open her bedroom door, sprint down the hall, and wake up Emma or Michael. They were the strongest. They were titans. Emma with her fiery fists, Michael with his impossible swordsmanship… Surely, one of them had an offensive skill that could turn Riley into a god of war.
She was already halfway off the bed when she froze.
Riley sat back down, forcing herself to take a deep, shuddering breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Again.
The manic energy began to recede, leaving behind the cold clarity of logic.
Who was she kidding?
She wasn't a fighter. She wasn't brave. The thought of standing toe-to-toe with a monster, relying on reflexes she didn't have and courage she had to borrow, made her stomach turn. She was a manager. A strategist. A landlady. Her strength wasn't in her fists, it was in this Zone. It was in the walls, the food, the safety she provided. Forgetting that was a recipe for a very short, very painful life.
"Right," she whispered, "Stay in your lane, Riley."
Still…
She held up the magnifying glass. Just because she wasn't going to use it right now didn't mean it wasn't valuable.
Scan.
The item vanished into her Store's inventory. Riley checked the price tag and let out a low, impressed whistle. The number was astronomical. It was a king's ransom. But it was there. An option for a rainy day. She tucked the original glass away into her Gamer's Bag.
Finally, she turned her attention to the last item. The diamond seed.
The Grade SSS
As she picked it up, the room vanished. A blinding, pure white light exploded from the seed, swallowing Riley, the bed, the walls, everything. It wasn't hot, it wasn't cold, it was just presence.
She squeezed her eyes shut against the brilliance.
Ding.
[Congratulations! You have integrated the item
The light faded as quickly as it had come. Riley blinked, spots dancing in her vision, and frantically pulled up her management panel.
A new tab.
She clicked it, her fingers trembling slightly. The description was simple, almost poetic. She could plant the seed anywhere within her territory. Once planted, it would grow into the World Tree. And the World Tree, among many things, it generated a barrier. Not the temporary, emergency-use golden dome of her
The barrier had a health pool. Its strength and its range would increase as the tree grew. And every seven days, like clockwork, the barrier would reset, its health returning to maximum.
Riley fell back onto her pillows, staring up at the wooden ceiling beams. Her hands were shaking.
"Well, shit," she breathed. "Good Lord. Buddha. Whatever divine intern is running this simulation..."
She let out a shaky laugh. This was absurd. It was grotesque. It was unfair.
She had just been given another shield.
Her
"This is a setup," she whispered to the empty room. "This has to be a setup. Nobody gets this lucky."
Of course, there was a catch. There was always a catch. "As the tree grows," the description said. For all she knew, this thing grew at the rate of a bonsai in a dark closet. It might take years to become useful. She might still have to rely on her golden dome for a long, long time. But having a backup plan for her backup plan? Having a passive defense that didn't eat into her Coin reserves every second it was active?
"Hell," she murmured, a contented smile drifting onto her face as her eyes finally began to droop. "It's nice to have options."
*
The next morning, the magical fire pit, the warm beating heart of their camp for the last few days, was unceremoniously evicted. Riley moved it to the side with a few mental clicks. The center of the Safe Zone was prime real estate, and it was reserved for something far more important than roasting marshmallows.
She dug a small, shallow hole in the rich earth. She dropped the glittering, diamond-like seed into the dirt and covered it up. Then, she splashed a little water from a wooden bucket over the mound.
It was a humble beginning for a god-tier item.
Ding.
[The roots of the World Tree have taken hold.]
[The World Tree has been reborn.]
Riley barely had time to blink. The ground beneath her feet trembled, not with an earthquake, but with a surge of pure, vibrant life.
Then, the flashbang went off.
A pillar of emerald light exploded from the soil, blindingly bright and terrifyingly beautiful. It shot into the sky, turning the morning sun pale by comparison. The entire base was bathed in a verdant, wash-out glow.
"What the hell?!"
Emma came sprinting from the kitchen, a half-eaten piece of toast hanging from her mouth. Michael was right behind her, sword already half-drawn. The others poured out of their houses, shielding their eyes against the brilliance.
They watched in stunned silence as a sapling pushed its way out of the dirt. It grew with impossible speed, twisting and spiraling upwards until it reached the height of Riley's thigh. Then, just as quickly as it had started, the blinding light faded, leaving behind a soft, rhythmic pulse of green energy.
It was a small tree. Its bark was white as bone, its leaves were translucent emeralds, and it hummed with a low, comforting song.
Riley stood there, her hair windblown from the sudden release of energy, staring down at the little plant.
Emma walked up, chewing her toast slowly. She poked the air near the tree, as if expecting it to bite.
"Girlie," she mumbled, swallowing. "What did you just do? Did you plant a radioactive bonsai? What is with this tree?"
Riley took a deep breath. She couldn't hide the smile that was fighting its way onto her face. It was a smile of relief, of excitement, and of absolute, unshakeable power. She turned to face them - Emma, Michael, David, the whole confused crew.
"This is... the World Tree," Riley announced.
Her eyes shone. It wasn't just the reflection of the glowing leaves. It was the gleam of someone who knew they had just won the game.
"It is one of the most precious things in this entire broken world," she continued, her voice steady. "And by taking care of it, we receive its protection."
She pointed a finger straight up at the sky.
"Look."
The group tilted their heads back, squinting into the blue.
Riley opened her
Hummmm.
Above them, the air shimmered. A massive, translucent green dome flickered into existence. It was faint, like a soap bubble made of auroras, but it was there. It arched high over their heads, encompassing the houses, the garden, the fence, and even a buffer zone beyond.
"This," Riley said, pride soaking into every syllable, "is the protection of the World Tree."
She looked at the tiny sapling at her feet, then back up at the massive shield.
It was a tiny ass tree. It was barely a twig. And yet, its barrier already covered her entire territory.
Riley's mind raced. If this was what a baby World Tree could do, what happened when it grew up? When it became a towering giant? How far would the shield extend? How invincible would they become?
The realization hit the others a second later.
"A shield?" David whispered, clutching Mia's hand. "A permanent shield?"
They didn't understand the mechanics. They didn't know about SSS-grade items or system integrations. They didn't care.
All they saw was a wall between them and the monsters. All they saw was safety.
Cheers erupted. People hugged. Someone started clapping. It was a celebration of survival.
Riley stood in the center of it all, bathed in the soft green light of her new masterpiece, and allowed herself a moment of pure satisfaction.
Hell yes.