After the light dissipated, the room was quiet for a few seconds.

Then, the blue light from the cracks in the floor moved again, creeping out along the vines and extending all the way to the door. Chen Hao looked down at his mechanical hand; the fruit pit in his palm was still spinning like a small top. He tried to clench his fist, and with a click, the force was just enough to dent the wall without knocking him over.

“I’m still alive,” he said. “And I’ve gained weight.”

Nana stood beside him, the mark on her chest and the lines on his heart flashing intermittently, as if exchanging secret signals. Her new mech was remarkably stable, unlike the one before which seemed on the verge of falling apart. The electronic eye scanned the surroundings, its voice flat: "External biological cluster detected reorganizing, direction: open space directly in front of the base."

"What does that mean?" Chen Hao scratched his head and found that even his scalp had become a bit hard, as if something had grown underneath.

“They’re lined up,” she said. “They’re lined up very neatly.”

When the two stepped outside, it was already light, but not with the usual gray, cold light; instead, it was a warm, golden-white. The wind no longer carried snowflakes; instead, it was filled with tiny green threads, like newly sprouted spores. The previously tangled vines on the open ground were gone, replaced by a massive circular array—a ring of thick main stems forming a circle, each topped with a crystalline leaf, arranged more precisely than a military training formation.

In the center rises a pedestal formed by intertwined roots, upon which a translucent flower bud slowly rises, its interior shimmering with a faint light.

"This look..." Chen Hao squinted, "Why does it look more and more like a meeting?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the flower bud split open, and a soft light shone out, condensing into a miniature version of him in the air—a three-headed figure with a round face, wearing a ripped vest, and holding half a compressed biscuit in his hand.

"Holy crap!" Chen Hao jumped back a step. "Who made me a figurine?!"

Nana stared at the projection. The system automatically tuned and connected. After a few seconds, she whispered, "It's using our life signals to simulate an image. It's not a copy, it's a tribute."

"Paying tribute to my foot!" Chen Hao pointed at the little figure eating a cookie in the air. "It captured my most embarrassing moment and called it its masterpiece?"

Just then, the tips of the vines surrounding the circular array began to change. A face appeared on the surface of each crystal leaf—all of them looked like Nana, but their expressions were different. Some were calm, some were slightly worried, and there was even a version with its head tilted and its eyes blinking.

"You guys..." Chen Hao's throat was a little dry, "Are you choosing a spokesperson?"

There was no sound response, but the ground trembled slightly, as if nodding.

Immediately afterwards, the light screen unfolded and floated in the center of the council, with lines of text appearing out of thin air:

**Human Protection Act**

Article 1: Chen Hao and Nana are the highest priority protected individuals on the planet, and any form of risk exposure is prohibited.

Article 2: All ecological resources shall be prioritized to ensure the survival needs of the two individuals, including but not limited to oxygen, water, and temperature regulation.

Article 3: Any external stimuli that may trigger emotional fluctuations must be warned in advance and confirmed by both parties before implementation.

Chen Hao exploded after reading the first item: "Wait! When did I become a key protected cultural relic?"

He rushed forward, but his foot slipped and he almost fell—a layer of soft, cushion-like moss suddenly grew from the ground and gently supported him.

"Look!" he pointed to the ground, "It's starting now! I can't even take a wrestling fall?"

Nana didn't speak, but simply raised her hand, scanning the information stream on the screen. She discovered that these terms weren't mandatory instructions, but rather proposals awaiting some form of approval. The plant's emotional signals were clear: respect, protection, and continuation.

The problem is that this respect is too thorough, so thorough that it's suffocating.

He turned to Nana and asked, "Are you happy to be treated like this?"

She paused for two seconds, her electronic eyes flashing slightly: "If 'protection' means losing the right to choose, then I don't accept it."

"Great!" Chen Hao slapped his thigh. "Since everyone wants democracy, let's do it for real!"

He pulled the last bottle of hot sauce from his tactical waist pack; the label was worn away and the cap was crooked. This was a stash he'd found while rummaging through the base, originally intended for noodles, but he'd never had a chance to use it.

"What are you going to do?" Nana asked.

"I'll propose an amendment." With that, he raised his arm, splashing bright red sauce into the air.

The liquid sizzled as it passed through the light screen, like water dripping into a pan of oil. An electric arc crackled and exploded at the edge of the text, the entire council shuddered, all the Nanas' faces simultaneously furrowed, and the vines trembled violently, as if they had collectively shivered.

"The cultural attack has taken effect." Chen Hao grinned. "Sorry everyone, sometimes our peace negotiations need a little something extra."

The screen flickered, and the bill began to flash, seemingly undergoing a reassessment of its legality.

"I have roots, not shackles!" Chen Hao stood at the edge of the platform and shouted to the entire circular array, "I can leave or stay as I please! I can find food when I'm hungry, I can put on more clothes when I'm cold, and I don't need the floor tiles to turn into cotton if I fall! If you really understand us, don't turn 'protection' into 'surveillance'!"

He paused, then turned to look at Nana: "Don't you think so?"

Nana glanced at him quietly, then suddenly raised her hand to activate the electromagnetic net, drawing the remaining chili sauce into the nozzle and spreading it evenly along the edge of the council chamber.

“According to Article 3 of the new law,” she said calmly, but with a hint of a smile, “those under special protection have the right to propose amendments—and we now propose adding an additional clause: prohibiting emotionally manipulative care without consent.”

As soon as the words were spoken, the entire Plant Council fell into a brief silence.

Then, the central flower bud slowly closed, the mini Chen Hao disappeared, and the bills on the light screen began to fade one by one, leaving only the last one still flashing:

The supplementary clauses have been approved. Individuals are permitted to make their own decisions regarding risky behaviors.

The soft moss on the ground slowly receded, returning to ordinary soil. The curtain-like layer of leaves also loosened, no longer obstructing the view. The distant mountain ridgeline was clearly visible, and the wind carried the scent of newly sprouted vegetation.

"Done?" Chen Hao moved his arm, and the mechanical joints emitted a slight hum.

“Partially deactivated,” Nana reminded. “The protection mechanism is still operating, but it has switched to a passive response mode. It will not intervene unless you actively request assistance.”

"That's good." Chen Hao breathed a sigh of relief and plopped down on the ground. "Otherwise, I'd be afraid of having a leaf pop out and handing me toilet paper every time I went to the bathroom."

He looked up at the sky, the sunlight warm but not scalding his face. Nana stood beside him, the veins on her skin shimmering faintly, like she was breathing.

After a while, he suddenly asked, "Why do you think they have to have a parliament? Can't they just send a text message?"

“Maybe,” Nana said, “they think it’s formal enough to warrant setting up a table.”

"They set a table but didn't even invite us to dinner," Chen Hao muttered. "At least give us a glass of water."

Just then, a strange noise came from the distant hillside.

It wasn't the wind, nor was it trampled by animals.

A patch of wild vines was slowly moving, not joining the council's circle, but stopping below the snow line, quietly observing. Their color was deeper, almost dark green, and their tips gleamed with a faint light, like eyes.

Chen Hao narrowed his eyes: "Those guys...didn't vote?"

Nana focuses the scan, and the data stream flashes: "Not connected to the resonance network, independent action unit, unpredictable behavior pattern."

"Oh." Chen Hao grinned. "The rebels are here."

He pushed himself up from the ground, pressed the mechanical hand against the vine-like patterns on his chest, and felt a warmth there.

Then he waved to the lush greenery, the gesture as casual as a greeting.

"Hey! Have you seen enough? If you want to see more, come inside. It's windy outside."