"You're something of a rarity among the rooted," Lyla began carefully, continuing where she'd left off. "We've discovered not one, but three distinct roots within you."
She paused, allowing her words to sink in, then continued in a calm yet slightly cautious tone. "Exactly what that means isn't critical at this moment. What's important now is that you'll need to spend three separate nights here with us—one dedicated to each root's trip."
Nemo listened intently, though the swirl of unanswered questions threatened to overwhelm him again. He forced himself to focus, choosing quickly what he would ask first, knowing clarity was unlikely to fully arrive.
"Will I get something to eat?"
"Yes," Lyla replied immediately, her voice reassuring yet oddly hesitant. "However, it's your roots that must also be fed. Based on our analysis, your roots appear to correspond to metal, consumption, and a formless element. The first, Metal, is clear. The second—consumption—is rare. Actually, it's unprecedented, which complicates things significantly. The Formless element, though less common, is manageable. But your Consumption root...well, that's going to be a challenge."
Nemo could hear mechanical whirring beneath him as something emerged slowly from the hole at the center of the cell. He cautiously stepped closer, observing as a small table rose, carrying three separate slabs of meat. He eyed them skeptically.
Lyla's voice resumed its explanation, now more authoritative. "A root must be fed five times before fully awakening and readying itself for advancement. Each feeding must come from different beasts, covering five specific components: meat, bone, blood, organ, and soul. In your unique case—with three roots—that totals at least fifteen distinct beast feedings. Fortunately, our facility houses an extensive collection of creatures precisely for this purpose."
She continued smoothly, addressing the odd assortment before him. "The meat in front of you is carefully selected. The first piece is from a Glistening Jewel Snake—a creature capable of consuming inorganic matter and producing jewel-like scales. Though primarily associated with Metal, it also loosely aligns with Light, given its reflective scales, and Air, due to its gliding capabilities. Of course, there are other minor traits, but I'm not permitted to delve into them further right now." Lyla finished curtly, her irritation aimed obviously at someone beyond Nemo's sight.
"Please start eating," she urged gently. "I'll explain the other two meats afterward."
Nemo stared at the raw snake meat, hesitation churning his stomach. "Do I really have to eat it raw? If it's meant for my root, why can't it feed directly?"
"Normally, yes," Lyla admitted patiently, "but you're not yet at the stage to directly nourish your roots. For now, you'll have to eat it yourself."
Nemo sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable. He reached inward, drawing out that insatiable hunger deep within his soul. Instantly, disgust vanished, replaced entirely by ravenous desire.
He snatched the jewel snake meat and tore into it without hesitation, driven purely by instinct.
"Next," Lyla continued smoothly, barely pausing, "the dark red piece comes from a Ghastly Snorer—a rare, continuously feeding land pig. It's primarily considered a Nature element due to its vegetarian diet, but given its endless hunger, it should align well with your Consumption root."
Even as she spoke, Nemo had finished devouring the snake meat and quickly moved on to the pig, tearing through it voraciously.
"The final meat," she said, her voice now tinged with fascination, "is from a reef jellyfish. Curiously, it neither eats nor reproduces—at least, as far as our observations go. This enigmatic existence is a phenomenon we're eager to study more closely."
By the time Lyla concluded her explanation, Nemo was licking the last traces of the strange jellyfish meat from his fingers. Satisfied yet still bewildered by the surreal experience, he watched as the table silently descended back into the floor.
"Well," Lyla began carefully, her voice layered with cautious curiosity, "you handled that surprisingly well. But now, Nemo, comes the part where things might get a little complicated. How should I put this...? We've encountered a slight complication with your consumption root—and frankly, we're stepping into entirely unknown territory."
Nemo ate without pause as the table cycled repeatedly before him. Bones were crushed and ground into paste, organs minced and swallowed, and blood drained eagerly from containers. His insatiable hunger did ease slightly, yet it never fully vanished as it had after devouring the strange jelly-squid creature.
Throughout, Lyla detailed each morsel he consumed.
"That's the bone from a Spearfish's spear… blood from a Cloudy Squid… an organ of an Everswallowing Whale…"
Finally, after what felt like an endless parade of grotesque delicacies, the table stopped appearing. Nemo slowly regained control of himself, feeling his rational thoughts surface once more. He glanced down at his hand; it had healed impressively, although an ugly scar clearly remained—quite unlike Ceres's perfect recovery.
"That was astonishingly fast," Lyla commented, surprise evident in her voice. "Usually, I have to coax the rooted into eating those pieces, yet you barely allowed me time to explain."
"I told you, I was hungry," Nemo replied, voice flat and drained.
"Ah, yes… hungry. Still hungry?"
"...Yes."
A brief silence lingered.
"Alright," Lyla began again, with a renewed sense of importance, "time for the most unique meal—not necessarily the most important, but certainly the hardest to procure. It's time to feast on souls."
Another mechanical hum resonated beneath the cell, but this time, no metal table appeared. Instead, three slippery appendages, reminiscent of tentacles, rose from the floor, each cradling a softly glowing object. Upon closer inspection, Nemo saw they weren't tentacles at all but leaves from an immense algae plant.
Tentatively, he touched one leaf, its slimy surface cool yet comforting, immediately soothing his anxiety. A profound calm enveloped him, washing away worries of Xeras, Ceres, Lyla, and even Fen and his other friends. For one blissful moment, Nemo was entirely at peace. Then, reluctantly, he withdrew his hand, expecting the return of madness and darkness. But nothing followed except the return of thoughts—and the persistent hunger.
Lyla's voice gently filled the silence again.
"The first soul comes from the mainland—a rare specimen we had to settle for, given the limitations. It's from a sun-grazing giant turtle. These remarkable creatures traverse desert landscapes as though swimming in a sea of sand, sustaining themselves purely by absorbing sunlight. Their bodies are composed entirely of glass with a gleaming golden skeleton."
Nemo leaned closer, examining the glowing soul. It emitted a soft golden radiance encapsulated by a translucent shell. The illumination was undoubtedly sunlight.
"Isn't this more suited to the light element?" he asked curiously.
Lyla hesitated briefly before responding. "It seems that way, but oddly enough, it's useless for those aligned with the light element. In truth, it's closer to darkness—it consumes sunlight. Herds of these turtles can drain an area of its sunlight completely, turning deserts into forests or frozen wastelands. However, its true essence is gold. Look carefully at the leaf beneath it."
Nemo peered closely and saw only utter darkness where sunlight should have touched the leaf. Fascinated, he touched the shadow, feeling the surreal sensation of depth collapsing into two dimensions beneath his fingertip.
"Incredible," he whispered softly.
"Indeed, it is," Lyla agreed. "It's an extraordinary privilege to consume this soul, so go ahead."
Nemo reached out but found his hand passing through the soul as if it were mere mist. Recalling the instincts of his hunger, he leaned forward, opened his mouth, and inhaled gently. The soul drifted into him, sliding smoothly down his throat, vanishing gradually until it disappeared entirely, leaving behind a vague yet profound sensation.
"The next soul is another mainland creature," Lyla explained, "though far less impressive. It's called an Ever-Feasting Caterpillar. Individually tiny and weak, they must devour vast areas of vegetation and even each other until only one enormous, powerful caterpillar remains. Its true form beyond the cocoon stage remains unknown, but we do know it's endlessly hungry."
Nemo observed the soul, a dark-red mass filled with fleeting, flickering images of caterpillars. Unremarkable, yet compelling enough for his hunger to eagerly absorb.
He then turned to the final soul. Compared to the others, this one seemed almost disappointingly mundane—plain and unassuming in appearance.
Yet, as he leaned closer, a subtle unease gripped him. Something wasn't quite right. An inexplicable presence lingered around this unassuming soul—an ancient, hidden depth he couldn't quite grasp. A chill ran down his spine as Lyla spoke again, her voice suddenly careful, almost cautious.
"This last one… well, it's difficult to describe. Let's just say it's special—in ways we don't fully understand yet."