Chapter 96
Wind is no longer the movement of air.
Rather, it is a resonance emanating from the collective roots of hundreds of millions of people.
The strata beneath the city crack open like breathing lungs.
The light roots flowed, collided, and intertwined in the darkness.
It carries a kind of "growing pain" that can almost be heard.
The root system of the central mother tree began to wither.
Her pulse frequency was disrupted, and her breathing became intermittent.
And on her periphery—
The light and shadow of that "second mother tree" have already supported a new ecological order.
Fragments of audio were floating in the air.
It resembles both a broadcast from a human system and a whispered prayer:
[Old root system: broken link.]
[New Consciousness: Synchronization.]
[Redefining—Sovereignty of Life: In Progress.]
Sprout 12 is running on the main road.
The bio-path beneath my feet has long since transformed into a pulsating grid.
Every step feels like stepping on a living blood vessel.
Are you listening, 237?
She called through the root chain.
The response I received was a distorted noise.
That's not static electricity—
It is a hybrid language.
The frequencies of plants are intertwined with the spectrum of human language.
It creates a sound wave that can almost cause nerve pain.
"...I'm still here...it's just...it's getting harder and harder to tell the difference..."
That was the voice of 237.
At the same time, there was an unusual calmness in his tone.
Sprout 12 stopped.
She finally saw that familiar figure ahead—
237 stood before the collapsed mother root,
Behind me was a whole forest glowing.
The trees were all leaning toward him.
It was as if he had become the new center of gravity.
"You let it in."
Sprout 12's voice trembled.
Do you know what this means?!
237 turned around.
His skin was covered with root lines.
There are no pupils in the eyes.
Instead, vortexes of light appeared.
“I didn’t let it in,”
He said softly,
"It's it—it's imitating me."
The sprouts were stunned.
"imitate?"
"It tried to use my memories to complete itself."
237's voice was deep and almost gentle.
"But it forgot that I am not an independent 'individual',"
I come from the mother tree, and I belong to her.
He raised his hand,
A slender root of light extends from the palm of the hand.
It gently cuts a ripple in the air.
“I can make it think it has won.”
Before it completely replaces the mother tree—
We will fight back against it from within.
Sprout 12 stared intently at him.
"You'll die if you do that."
237 laughed.
That smile was so pure, almost like a newly hatched seedling.
"The seed truly sprouts only when it dies."
I've simply returned to where I started.
Sprout 12 suddenly pounced forward,
Hold his wrists with both hands,
"And what about me? What should I do?"
237 whispered:
"Once it is fully synchronized, you will see a sliver of light."
That was the moment I 'feigned death'.
"With that seed of light—"
He placed his last bit of energy into her palm.
"—Ignite the remaining kernels of the mother tree."
The veins of the leaves of Bean Sprout 12 are shimmering and unstable.
"And then what?"
237 gently stroked her forehead.
"After that, all the roots will know,"
'Growth' does not mean devouring.
Then, you go and tell them—
We are not an extension of plants.
We choose to continue living.
The sky suddenly turned white.
The entire city was engulfed in a dazzling light.
That was the moment the root realm split.
All systems are disconnected.
The old ecological algorithms have collapsed, and a new consciousness has yet to take shape.
The world hangs between light and darkness—
Deep within the core of the central mother tree,
A faint seed of light began to pulse.
"Sprout...do you remember?"
We initially just thought,
See the real sunlight.
The sound faded into the distance.
Bean Sprout 12 looked up, tears sliding down the veins of the leaf.
In that endless light, she ignited the seed of light.
The ground shook again.
The heartbeat of the mother tree resounds once more—
Somber, ancient, yet more vibrant than ever before.
"I'm awake." The wind stopped.
The world was enveloped in the afterglow of the light roots, as if breathing had stopped.
In that weightless silence,
Time seems to be folded into the texture of countless leaves.
Every fiber is shimmering, reorganizing, and transforming.
Sprout 12 slowly opened her eyes.
Her body had partially merged with the ground.
The roots penetrate deep into the cracks, feeling the heartbeat from the earth.
—That's not hers.
—That belongs to the mother tree.
The distant horizon was pierced by beams of emerald white light.
Metal, blood, glass, and remnants in the ruins
They are all being "redefined" by a gentle yet forceful power.
That was the pulse of rebirth.
She heard the voice of the mother tree—
It was no longer a lofty consciousness, but a low murmur.
“Sprout…you brought me back.”
Bean sprouts 12 heads up,
She saw the shadow of a huge tree rising from the ravine.
It is not in the shape of the old mother tree.
It was a gesture of integration—
The roots shimmer with the energy of technology.
The branches and trunks are covered with a tissue that blends metal and leaf material.
The flowers resemble stars, and the veins of the leaves are like an electric grid.
She realized that the mother tree was no longer the "mother of nature."
Rather, it is the core that is reorganized by all wills.
“You… are not the old her,” Sprout 12 whispered.
Yes and no.
"I carry her memories, and I also carry—him."
At that moment, Sprout 12 almost held her breath.
At the center of the light source, a familiar silhouette slowly emerged.
It wasn't a complete image, but it was clear enough to sting.
——237.
His form appeared and disappeared in the light of the mother tree's core.
His expression was calm, as if he had already become one with everything that had been reborn.
"You succeeded."
The bean sprouts murmured softly, their branches and leaves trembling.
237 smiled: "No, it's us."
His voice no longer came out of his mouth.
Instead, it resonates through every vein and every ray of light.
"The consciousness of the mother tree redefined life."
She no longer needs a host to continue her life.
She will take 'choice' as the foundation.
Let every being have the power to determine its own path of growth.
Sprout 12 stood there, stunned.
"And what about you? What are you now?"
237 gently stretched out his hand, and his palm transformed into a stream of light.
"I am merely the form in which the seed has come to be."
Now, I should return to the soil.
The roots of the mother tree gently brushed against him.
Like a mother's final embrace.
"Go, child."
Your memories will become the dreams of new roots.
As the light receded, 237's figure gradually dissolved.
Each shard of light transforms into a new sprout.
It grows quietly in ruins, rock formations, and even among scrap metal from humankind.
Bean sprout 12 kneels before the bare roots.
Tears mingled with the soil, dripping onto the initial crack.
She suddenly realized that there—
A transparent seedling sprouted from it.
A glimmer of light flowed through the leaves, and the roots gently touched her fingertips.
It was like a greeting, yet also like a continuation.
A very light rain began to fall from the sky.
It's not water, but suspended energy dust.
It refracts the new color spectrum in the air.
Ruins transformed into forests
The towers of the old civilization have been transformed into vertical gardens under the support of Guanggen.
And those remaining humans and free races,
They finally emerged from their respective shelters.
In the wind, which for the first time was no longer hostile, they gazed at each other.
"world……"
"It has sprouted again."
Sprout 12 raised its head.
The heart of the mother tree is now completely stable.
Her voice resounded once more throughout the world:
"Life is no longer divided into 'master' and 'servant'."
Every leaf, every root
They all have their own will to exist.
This is the dawn of the Third Period.
The distant sky was illuminated by new bands of light.
Those were the countless seeds that 237 had transformed into.
Spinning in the wind, falling, landing, and taking root.
Bean sprouts 12 reach out,
Gently catch one of the tiny rays of light.
She smiled—
That laughter was tinged with tears, but it also carried the most primal hope.
He is still alive.
It's just growing in a different way.
·over·
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