The transition from the obsidian vacuum of the Gallery to the atmosphere of the Emerald Nebulae was a violent baptism in life.
When Caspian's consciousness finally clawed its way back to the surface, he wasn't met with the sterile, metallic air of Oakhaven or the silence of the void. He was met with the deafening roar of a biological engine. The air was thick, humid, and hyper-oxygenated, tasting of crushed pine needles and sweet, fermenting fruit.
He lay on a bed of bioluminescent moss that pulsed with a soft, rhythmic green light—a "Neural-Grass" that was currently attempting to interface with his shattered nervous system.
"Don't move," a voice commanded.
It wasn't Julian Vane's mocking tone this time. It was a woman's voice, layered with a strange, harmonic resonance that sounded like wind through a hollow tree.
Caspian opened his eyes. His vision was fractured. The golden gears in his pupils were jagged and stalled, and the indigo fire of his soul had dwindled to a flickering ember. He saw a figure standing over him. She was tall, her skin the color of olive wood, and her hair was a living mane of flowering vines. She wore armor made of hardened chitin that shimmered like a beetle's wing.
"Your soul-structure is a mess, scavenger," she said, leaning down. She held a vial of glowing amber fluid. "You brought a parasite-load of four million souls into our nursery. Do you have any idea how much 'Static' your people are broadcasting into the Song?"
Caspian tried to speak, but his throat felt like it was filled with dry ash. "The... islands..."
"Your 'rocks' are currently polluting the canopy of the World-Seed," the woman replied, forcing the amber fluid down his throat. "Your soldiers are already trying to burn the trees for heat. If they don't stop, the Pruners will be sent to 'recycle' them."
As the fluid hit his stomach, Caspian felt a surge of agonizing vitality. His broken "Soul-Threads" began to knit back together, but they weren't being repaired with his own Void-energy. They were being "Grafted" with the green Aether of the Nebulae.
[WARNING: SOUL-STRUCTURE STABILIZED VIA FOREIGN BIOLOGY.] [STATUS: THE GRAFTED CURATOR.] [SEQUENCE 6 — DESTABILIZED. NEW TRAIT: 'CHLOROPHYLL RESONANCE'.]
The Colony of Ash and Marble
Three miles above Caspian's recovery site, the remnants of the Caelum Chain were a scar on a green paradise.
The island of the Iron Belt had slammed into the upper branches of a gargantuan "Yggdrasil-Tree"—a biological structure the size of a mountain range. The soot-stained factories and rusted gears of the human city looked like a virus infecting the pristine, glowing leaves.
Ash stood at the edge of the industrial district, staring down into the green abyss below. His Ash-King's Gauntlet was flickering. In this world of overwhelming life, his power over "Cinders" and "Grief" felt weak, almost pathetic.
"We can't use the coal," a rebel reported, his voice trembling. "The moment we sparked the furnace, the vines started growing inside the pipes. They choked the engines in seconds. Two men were... they were pulled into the walls, Commander. The trees ate them."
"They didn't eat them," a calm voice interrupted.
Lady Elara (Marble) walked through the wreckage of the square. She looked different. Her white eyes were now veined with green, and her translucent skin seemed to be absorbing the sunlight of the Nebulae.
"The World-Seed is a single organism," Elara said, touching a pulsating vine that was currently wrapping itself around a lamp-post. "It isn't attacking us. It's trying to 'Integrated' us. It doesn't understand the concept of 'Inorganic Matter.' It thinks our buildings are dead limbs that need to be decomposed."
"We can't live like this, Marble," Ash growled. "The people are starving. We can't eat the glowing fruit—half the scouts who tried it turned into trees themselves."
"We need the Doc," Elara said, looking toward the horizon where the Great Rift of the sky used to be. "But the Doc is being held by the Life-Weavers. And they don't want a peace treaty. They want a 'Cull'."
The Audience with the Pruner
By the second day, Caspian was able to stand.
He found himself in the Heart-Grove, a cathedral of living wood where the air was so saturated with Aether that he could see the thoughts of the plants manifesting as shimmering spores.
The woman who had saved him, Silra, led him to the center of the grove. There, seated on a throne of woven thorns, was a Sequence 4: Life-Weaver (The Arch-Pruner).
The Arch-Pruner didn't have a human shape. He was a mass of shifting roots and blossoms, with a single, massive eye in the center of his chest that projected a field of "Growth-Energy" so intense that Caspian's obsidian skin began to sprout tiny, silver leaves.
"CURATOR," the Pruner's voice was the sound of a forest groaning in a storm. "YOU HAVE BREACHED THE SANCTUARY OF THE UNSEEN. YOU BRING WITH YOU THE STENCH OF THE VOID AND THE ROT OF THE OLD WORLD."
"I brought survivors," Caspian said, his voice regaining its resonance, though it was now layered with a leafy rustle. "We seek a 'World-Seed' to plant our future."
"THERE IS NO FUTURE FOR THE INORGANIC," the Pruner replied. "YOUR PEOPLE ARE CONSUMERS. THEY BURN, THEY CUT, THEY EXTRACT. TO PERMIT YOU TO STAY IS TO PERMIT A CANCER TO GROW WITHIN THE NEBULAE."
The Pruner raised a limb made of sharpened briar.
"HOWEVER... THE SONG IS UNBALANCED. THE 'KEEPERS' YOU FLED FROM HAVE FOLLOWED THE SCENT OF YOUR INDIGO SUN. THEY ARE CIRCLING THE NEBULAE. THEY CANNOT ENTER THE GREEN GAS, BUT THEY ARE STARVING THE OUTER SECTORS."
"You want me to kill them," Caspian stated.
"WE WANT YOU TO 'TRANSFIGURE'. IF YOU CAN PROVE THAT YOUR VOID CAN PROTECT LIFE RATHER THAN END IT, WE WILL GRANT YOUR PEOPLE A SEED. IF YOU FAIL, WE WILL RECYCLE YOUR SOULS TO FEED THE NEXT HARVEST."
[MISSION: THE SURGEON'S GARDEN.] [Objective: Neutralize the 'Void-Stalker' fleet without damaging the Nebulae's ecosystem.] [Reward: Sequence 5 Advancement Material — 'The Heart of the World-Seed'.]
The Return of the Surgeon
Caspian was released from the Heart-Grove, but he wasn't sent back alone. Silra was assigned as his "Overseer"—and his executioner if he faltered.
As they flew back toward the human colony on the back of a Manta-Ray-Leaf (a biological glider), Caspian looked at the iron scar of his people on the green world. He saw Julian Vane standing on a balcony of the Iron Belt, watching him with a predatory grin.
Vane wasn't a refugee. He was an envoy.
"You're late, Doc," Vane called out as Caspian landed. "The Keepers just sent a 'Parley-Drone.' They've offered a deal. They'll leave the Nebulae alone if we hand over the 'World-Vessel'—that's you—and the Architect's shard."
Caspian looked at Vane, then at the terrified faces of the people he had dragged through the void. He felt the Tongue of the Silent King twitching. It didn't want to garden. It wanted to dissect.
"Tell the Keepers," Caspian said, his eyes flashing with a mix of indigo and emerald. "That the Surgeon is in his theater. And I don't negotiate with infections."
Caspian turned to Silra. "I need your 'Growth-Vines'. I'm going to build something the Keepers have never seen. I'm going to turn the Iron Belt into a Biological Dreadnought."