Echoterra: Rise of the Verdant King-Chapter 50: War in the cradle

The sunken chamber in the Forgotten Atlanta Expanse was a crucible of chaos, Mycoglyphs flaring like dying stars as the Verdant Apostate’s Echoes of Ruin clashed with the Ironblood Remnants’ plasma fire.

Clayton knelt by the root cluster, blood dripping from his nose, Heartseed Core screaming under Aspect Strain.

His humanoid form was a wreck; plasma burns torn open, psyche fractured by the Apostate’s despair, the insidious whispers that tore at his sanity. But his Verdant Lord form, incomplete yet towering, shielded him with bark and thorns, its green-fire chest pulsing with a fraction of its Echoterra might.

It was the only reason why he was still alive.

’And here I was thinking I would be safe after escaping Echoterra,’ he thought, his eyes narrowed as dark thoughts filled his head.

’F*ck the Echoterra!’

’F*ck the Genesis Protocols!’

’F*ck the world!’

The Rootsite was at 80%, Verdant Reign anchoring his soul to the Earthcore Signal, but survival was all he could manage in this three-way slaughter.

"Everybody wants a piece of me," he coughed, dark humor raw. "Three hundred thirty years, and I’m still the belle of the ball".

Pain lanced through his whole body. It was pure torture, but what better ingredient other than spite to deal with pain than humor?

The Apostate, her tattered green cloak scorched and waving in the core of chaos, stood at the chamber’s center, spectral tendrils writhing like a storm.

Her Echoes of Ruin, a psychic Aspect forged from betraying Echoterra’s Verdant Armistice flooded the air with ghostly screams, each thread carrying broken oaths and fallen teammates’ despair.

Her eyes blazed, locked on Clayton, her voice a venomous hiss.

"You’ll die first, Lord. Your Rootsite won’t save you".

But the Ironblood Remnants had other plans.

Commander Drayce led Cells Delta and Epsilon, their exosuits glinting, plasma lances roaring. EMP drones buzzed, their pulses staggering the Apostate’s tendrils.

The Ironblood hated Clayton’s Verdant Tyranny, but Apostates; traitors who’d embraced Genesis corruption were their true anathema.

The Ironblood Remnants and Apostates were archenemies.

Drayce raised the Null Lance, a massive cannon etched with anti-Genesis runes, its barrel glowing with nullifying energy scavenged from a Null Crown Behemoth.

"Burn the Apostate!" Drayce barked, his bandaged face twisted, Furnace Core flaring. "Then the Lord!"

The Null Lance fired, a white-hot beam that nullified Genesis matter, shredding the Apostate’s spectral threads.

She dodged, barely keeping her life, but it cost her.

The white-hot beam graced her arm, unraveling her cloak, leaving a smoking wound that sizzled.

She screamed, not pain but rage, her Echoes surging; whispers turning to psychic knives, slashing at Drayce’s mind in retaliation.

The Apostate was outnumbered, even outmatched since Drayce was a Luminous Seed powerhouse, and yet she stood her ground, stubborn and defiant.

She was not helpless.

Drayce staggered, visor cracking, as memories of lost outposts bled through. Rhea, arm slung, fired her lance, plasma searing the Apostate’s leg, but her tendrils lashed back, crushing a drone and pinning two soldiers to the wall, their screams echoing Joren’s death.

Clayton’s Tremor Sense mapped the chaos, roots vibrating with the Expanse’s pulse.

The chamber quaked, Mycoglyphs pulsing erratically, the budding Rootsite walking the terrain.

Roots; sentient, not his but allied writhed along the walls, cracking stone, as if the Earthcore itself stirred.

Cosmic horror gripped the air, the Expanse alive, hungry, reacting to his Verdant Reign.

DING!

~----~

[Rootsite Anchor: 85% Complete]

[Genesis Threshold: 98%]

[Aspect Strain: Catastrophic]

[System Warning: Core collapse in 20 seconds. Survival probability: 10%]

~----~

"Keen singin’, lady," Clayton muttered, spite fueling him.

His Verdant Lord form, half-formed but mighty, raised a thorned vine, Thorned Stem pulsing to shield his humanoid body.

He couldn’t fight, not with his core splitting, but he’d survive.

Always did.

The Apostate’s resourcefulness shone, her Echoes of Ruin adapting. She wove spectral threads into a psychic shield, deflecting a second Null Lance blast, the null-wave scattering harmlessly.

From the reaction of the Ironblood to her deflecting the second Null Lance blast, Clayton realized that she was not supposed to be capable of that. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

His gut feeling told him that a powerful Artifact empowered the Apostate’s Aspect abilities.

Her tendrils lashed, snaring Rhea, whispers forcing her to relive Joren’s death; Rhea dropped, sobbing, lance clattering.

The Apostate spun toward Clayton, her wound smoking but eyes undimmed, tendrils surging for his Heartseed Core.

"You’ll fall!" She roared, psychic screams deafening; Clayton’s own voice, cursing his failure in the Scorchpath, Echoterra, Earth.

His Verdant Lord form reacted, Core Maw snapping, thorns absorbing her threads, Phytoleech Bloom draining a soldier’s biomass to stabilize his core.

Pain tore through him, blood pooling, but spite kept his eyes open.

He slammed his Regalia into the root-cluster, Spine Bloom firing venom-sap thorns to slow her. They grazed her, Bloodthorn Fang sap seeping, but she pressed forward, relentless.

The Ironblood rallied, Drayce’s Null Lance charging again. "Die, traitor!" He roared, firing.

The beam hit true, burning the Apostate’s shoulder, unraveling half her spectral shield.

She staggered, but her Echoes lashed back, a psychic wave that dropped three soldiers, their minds shattered by betrayal’s weight.

She was injured, bleeding, but her power was a nightmare, her malice a match for the Ironblood’s zeal.

Clayton seized the chaos, his Verdant Lord form pulsing.

He pushed Verdant Reign harder, roots coiling tighter, Root Web anchoring the chamber’s biomass. The Earthcore Signal roared, Mycoglyphs blazing like a supernova.

The Expanse quaked, roots bursting through the ceiling, stone raining as the terrain reshaped, alive, bound to his will, then...

DING!

~----~

[Rootsite Anchor: 95% Complete]

[System Note: Earthcore Resonance at critical mass. Expanse alignment detected.]

~----~

Both factions froze, the Apostate’s tendrils faltering, Drayce’s Null Lance lowering.

They’d expected a marathon, a slow germination like most Verdant Lords. Well, Clayton wasn’t most.

He was a Scorchpath survivor, an Echoterra king, a bastard too spiteful to die. His Rootsite surged toward completion, faster than their worst fears, his Verdant Lord form towering, green fire blazing.

"Too slow, punks," Clayton rasped, blood staining his smirk, humor dark as the abyss.

The Apostate’s eyes widened, her Echoes surging for a final strike, Drayce’s Null Lance charged, aimed at both.

The chamber shook, roots roaring, as Clayton’s Rootsite teetered on the edge of claiming the Expanse’s heart...

...

[Only one Chapter today. Sorry guys, I’m experiencing a bit of a burnout due to stress. Hopefully, tomorrow, I’ll be better.]