The golden valley slipped away behind them, fading into the dense tangle of the Spinewood Forest. Light dimmed. Shadows lengthened. The air thickened with the familiar, ancient breath of a place that was alive in ways humans never fully understood.
But this time, the forest didn't feel threatening.
It felt… watchful.
Almost protective.
Zerrei stumbled slightly as they walked. He still hadn't regained full control over his movements—the aftermath of channeling the forest's power lingered in every joint and seam of his wooden frame. His cracked arm tingled with faint, warm pulses of mana, slowly stitching itself together under the golden thread's influence.
Lyra kept pace beside him—not holding him, not guiding him, just close enough that he could sense her presence if he needed it.
"Tell me if you need to stop," she said quietly.
"I can walk," Zerrei murmured, though his voice shook.
Arden snorted from behind them. "He says while wobbling like a baby deer."
"I am not wobbling," Zerrei mumbled.
"You are absolutely wobbling," Arden said. "But hey, it's a brave wobble."
Oren adjusted the strap of his research satchel. "Arden, please. He just channeled a forest's worth of mana. Physical instability is expected."
"Still looks like a newborn fawn."
"Arden."
"What? I'm giving moral support."
Zerrei didn't mind the teasing. Arden's ridiculousness grounded him, gave the air around him a shape he could hold onto. The tension in his chest eased—just a little.
But behind them…
He felt it.
A presence.
Not following.
Not moving.
But watching.
Vessel Five.
Still kneeling in the valley, locked in reboot, blue core flickering faintly.
He hadn't expected it to stop.
He hadn't expected it to hesitate.
Zerrei wrapped his arms tightly around himself. "Why didn't it keep chasing me?"
Lyra answered softly, "Because it couldn't."
Oren shook his head. "Not exactly. The resonance destabilization didn't destroy its directives. It disrupted them. It forced a temporary system reboot."
Arden scratched his head. "So it's basically taking a nap."
"No," Oren said, "it's recalibrating."
"So… a violent nap?"
"Arden."
"What? Everything's violent about that thing."
Zerrei didn't stop walking, but the tremor in his hands grew stronger.
Lyra noticed. "Zerrei?"
He whispered, "It… looked at me differently. At the end."
The memory burned sharp in his mind—the way Vessel Five's glowing blue eyes had flickered, not with hatred or programmed aggression, but with something almost like recognition.
Not empathy.
Not emotion.
But conflict.
And conflict was rare for vessels.
They weren't made to hesitate.
"They don't think," Zerrei said softly. "Not like humans. Not like me. They follow orders. They execute directives. But when the forest's mana hit it… it hesitated."
Arden shrugged. "Maybe it was thinking, 'Damn, that puppet shines too bright, better sit down.'"
"Arden," Lyra warned.
"No, no, I'm serious! He went full lantern mode and made the killer machine flinch."
Zerrei didn't laugh, but he didn't shrink either. Arden's tone, ridiculous as it was, kept him from sinking too deep into fear.
Oren walked closer, his eyes analytical. "Zerrei, what you did wasn't just raw power. Your resonance changed. Vessel Five recognized a conflicting signature."
"What kind?" Zerrei whispered.
Lyra looked at Oren sharply. "Don't overwhelm him."
"Right. Sorry." Oren inhaled. "To put it simply… you're no longer reading as Vessel Two."
Zerrei stopped walking.
"What… do you mean?"
His voice came out too small, too hollow.
Oren slowed, choosing his words carefully. "The Creator built vessels with specific arcane signatures. Patterns. Identifiers. Like names, but coded in mana. Vessel Two had one. Vessel Five had another."
Zerrei hugged himself tightly. "I know. I felt it when it used to call me designation. When the forest called me that, too."
Lyra stepped closer, steadying her tone. "Zerrei. Look at me."
He did.
"You're not designation. You're not a pattern. You're not a schematic."
Zerrei lowered his gaze, trembling. "The forest showed me… things. Other versions. Things I could've been. Things the Creator wanted me to be."
Lyra's hand hovered near his arm—not touching, but grounding through presence. "But you aren't those things."
"I know," he whispered, voice barely audible. "But Vessel Five still sees me as—"
"No," Oren said quietly. "It doesn't."
Zerrei blinked. "What?"
"That's what I'm trying to tell you." Oren knelt slightly to meet Zerrei's eye level. "When you synced with the forest, when the golden thread embedded into you… something shifted."
Lyra tensed. "Shifted how?"
Oren nodded toward Zerrei's chest. "He no longer reads as Vessel Two."
Zerrei's knees nearly gave out.
Arden quickly stepped forward and put his hands under Zerrei's arms to steady him, muttering, "Careful—don't collapse yet, we like you alive-ish."
Zerrei braced himself. "What do I read as, then?"
Oren swallowed. "Something new. Something unclassified."
Zerrei's breath hitched.
The forest around them rustled softly, like a lullaby of leaves.
Oren continued, "Vessel Five hesitated because your signature no longer fit into its directives. It circled you to assess whether you were still its target. It didn't know what you were."
"I don't know what I am," Zerrei whispered.
Lyra's voice came gentle but firm. "You're Zerrei."
He shut his eyes, feeling his Heartglow flicker softly beneath the golden thread's mark. "But what does that mean?"
"Whatever you choose it to mean," she said. "That's the point."
Zerrei shook his head. "But if I'm not Vessel Two… then what will Vessel Five do when it finishes rebooting?"
Silence.
Arden looked uneasy. "Oren…? Please tell us it'll wander off to contemplate life."
Oren's jaw tightened. "I can't guarantee anything."
Zerrei trembled harder.
Lyra squeezed her hand gently near him—not touching, but offering. "Zerrei, hear me."
His trembling stilled slightly.
"You did not cause Vessel Five's confusion. You did not break it. You forced it to see something outside its orders. That isn't danger. That's growth."
Zerrei whispered, "For it… or for me?"
"Both," she replied.
The answer terrified him.
They traveled deeper into the forest, following a narrow, winding trail that sloped northward. The canopy grew denser, branches arching overhead like interlocking ribs. The air was cool but heavy with mana.
Zerrei kept glancing back.
Even though he knew Vessel Five wasn't behind them yet.
Not yet.
The forest had quieted again after the surge, returning to its natural rhythm. The golden veins in the trees dimmed as they left the valley, replaced by the darker, more familiar greens and browns.
Zerrei's shoulders slowly eased.
But the memory of Vessel Five kneeling didn't leave him.
Neither did the fear.
Neither did the uncertainty.
After nearly an hour of steady walking, Lyra called for rest. Arden sank onto a fallen trunk, groaning dramatically. Oren pulled out his notes and began scribbling. Lyra stood guard, her eyes moving constantly.
Zerrei sat on a mossy rock, his cracked arm resting against his knee.
His Heartglow pulsed softly.
He traced the glowing symbol on his chest.
The golden thread mark seemed to shift under his touch, like it wasn't just etched onto him—but woven inside him.
He whispered, "Why did you choose me?"
A soft breeze rustled through the branches.
He frowned. "I don't understand. I'm not strong. I'm not more than the others. I'm scared all the time. I break. I—"
A root curled gently around his foot.
Not tight.
Not pulling.
Just touching.
Zerrei's breath caught.
The forest was listening.
Not devouring.
Not imprisoning.
Listening.
"You don't think I'm a mistake," Zerrei whispered.
The root pulsed gently.
His vision blurred with something very close to tears—though he had none.
Arden's voice cut through the moment. "Oi! Puppet! You alright?"
Zerrei startled. "Y-yes."
Arden raised a brow. "You were staring at a root like it was whispering your deepest secrets."
Zerrei looked down at the root, then back at Arden. "…It might have been."
Arden blinked. "What—"
Before he could finish, Oren shot up from his notes. "Everyone quiet!"
Lyra was already moving, blade half-raised. "You sense something?"
Oren nodded sharply. "A disturbance. Mana fluctuation."
Arden groaned. "Please let it be something tiny. A squirrel. A mushroom. A leaf with bad intentions."
"No," Oren whispered. "Something big."
Zerrei froze.
He felt it too.
A pulse.
A tremor of mana.
Then—
Silence.
Not the forest's natural quiet.
An unnatural silence, heavy and expectant.
Zerrei felt his Heartglow pull tight.
"It's coming," he whispered.
Lyra stepped in front of him, eyes sharp. "Vessel Five?"
"No," Oren said. "Not yet. Something else."
Arden raised his axe. "Something else? As in… new?"
"A corrupted mana bloom," Oren said. "Maybe a forest guardian. Maybe—"
A low, guttural growl echoed through the trees.
Zerrei's insides clenched.
The shadows shifted.
Branches twisted overhead.
A creature stepped into view.
It resembled a wolf—but not an animal. Its body was made of twisted bark and sinew, eyes glowing with cold green mana, mouth dripping with sap that burned through the ground like acid.
A Corrupted Beast.
Lyra cursed under her breath. "Of all times…"
Arden steadied his stance. "Alright. One monster. That's manageable."
Oren tightened his grip on his staff. "It's not just one."
Another growl echoed.
And another.
Shadows moved.
Four. Five. Six.
A pack.
Zerrei's fingers curled. "The forest… it's reacting to the corruption."
Lyra's gaze hardened. "We handle this quickly. Form up!"
The beasts lunged.
Arden intercepted the first with a thunderous swing of his axe, slamming bark-flesh into the earth. Oren unleashed a burst of violet mana that slowed the next two, roots coiling around their limbs.
Lyra danced between them, blade flashing in clean, efficient arcs.
Zerrei stood frozen.
His Heartglow pulsed wildly.
"Zerrei!" Lyra called. "Stay behind me!"
He took a step back—
—but a beast broke through Arden's defense and barreled toward him.
Zerrei lifted his arms on instinct.
Golden light flared—
—but sputtered, weak from exhaustion.
The beast leapt.
Zerrei braced for impact.
Then—
Something blurred past him in a streak of blue.
A claw.
A familiar shape.
A familiar presence.
The beast was torn in half mid-air.
Zerrei gasped.
Standing between him and the monster—
—was Vessel Five.
Not kneeling.
Not rebooting.
Standing.
Awake.
And not attacking Zerrei.
Not attacking the others.
Instead—
The hunter turned its head toward the pack of corrupted beasts and released a roar that shook the forest.
Arden yelped. "WHY IS IT HERE?!"
Lyra grabbed Zerrei and pulled him behind her. "Zerrei—stay close!"
Oren took a step back, face pale. "This isn't possible. It shouldn't be conscious yet!"
Yet Vessel Five stood firm, claws raised, eyes glowing steady blue—
—but its gaze flicked to Zerrei only briefly.
As if checking.
Not targeting.
Not prioritizing.
Checking.
Zerrei's entire body went cold.
"It's… protecting me?" he whispered.
Lyra stared at him. "Or protecting its designation."
"No," Oren said breathlessly. "He isn't designation anymore. It shouldn't recognize him like this… unless…"
"Unless what?" Arden shouted as he decapitated another beast.
"Unless Vessel Five is confused," Oren said. "Pulled between directives."
Lyra's tone sharpened. "Explain!"
"It doesn't know whether Zerrei is an enemy, an anomaly, or—" Oren's voice caught.
"—something it should follow."
Zerrei trembled violently.
Vessel Five lunged at another beast, tearing it apart with terrifying precision.
But its eyes…
Its eyes flickered back to Zerrei—
Not hostile.
Not obedient.
Not certain.
Just—
Hesitant.
The forest had chosen Zerrei.
Now Vessel Five—
didn't know what to choose.
Zerrei whispered, voice wavering, "What… am I to you…?"
Vessel Five didn't answer.
It simply stood between him and the monsters—
as if it had no idea what else to do.