I would like to state, for the record, that I never agreed to this.
Oh sure, I said I would "help." I said it because the system threatened me with diplomatic failure, and Sylrien stared at me with that same polite expression people give to animals they expect will bolt at any moment.
But this? This was not helping. This was suffering.
The deeper forest felt less like walking and more like being slowly digested by scenery. The trees grew impossibly tall and dense, twisting upward like they were actively trying to blot out the sky. Thick vines looped like lazy predators waiting for something dumb to step in the wrong spot.
I swept my flame shard slowly along the path, more out of paranoia than strategy. It did not comfort me when it flashed twice in rapid warning.
"Perfect," I muttered. "The plants hate us too."
The system, traitorous as ever, chimed.
[Environmental Threat Level: Moderate (Trending Upward)]
[Unstable Mythline Echo Detected Nearby]
