The doors swished open, revealing a weave of thick roots blocking the exit. Wit stared at it confused, wondering how these plants would’ve gotten here. He remembered Rubix saying that he was at the lowest level near the power source. That should mean he was pretty far underground.

‘Did these roots borrow through dozens of feet of metal and cement or whatever the tower was made off?’ He pondered while touching the soft fibrous plant.

That made Wit think getting above ground was going to be a lot harder than he originally thought. Tensing his hands had his thorns slipping out through the slits in the bark over his fingers. Looking closer at his hands showed that he had padding throughout his palms and fingers. How uncanny, He though

Taking a step back, Wit raised his hand high and clumsily swung his arm, barely grazing the roots’ surface with his claws and stumbling forward. Both his tails tried to overcompensate for his movement, not helping in the least; leaving him sprawled out on the floor. Okay, glad no one saw that. Wit thought as he picked himself up.

“Maybe you're still getting used to your body? It has only been eleven hours and thirty-six minutes since your gestation Wit.” Poindexter's analogous voice helpfully droned out.

Wits ears flattened back in displeasure. “I can admit that wasn’t one of my best moments. But I think you're right, I still feel clumsy in this body.”

“Body scans show weak muscle strength and lack of coordination with your new appendages. I would suggest assimilating to your new form in the safety of the nest, before venturing into the unknown. Of course, the choice is yours.” Poindexter replied.

Wit thought about it. If there are roots down here, what else has changed throughout Babel? It could be dangerous, possibly even deadly just for him to escape the basement level. He had to play this smart, he couldn't risk losing his second chance at life by being stupid. Maybe some exercise and practice would skew the odds in his favor.

He glanced at the door with longing as he went on a light jog around the dome. As he ran on his furry digitigrade feet covered in what he now knew was called [exoBark],he could instantly tell running like he used to wasn’t going to work. His tails felt like they were holding him back more than helping, and his stride was so awkward he thought Poindexter might call him out on how embarrassing he was again.

Almost tripping and leaning forward to catch himself with his hands is what eventually got him to understand that he should be using his whole body, not just his legs. Using all four limbs had his spine feeling a lot more flexible, his digitigrade legs shifting angles, his centipede-tail leveling out in a wavy rhythm and his lower tail following along with his stride.

Tiring himself out after three small laps around the dome had him crawling back to the soft soil panting heavily. Laying down on his back and catching his breath, he curiously moved his chitinous tail to hover over him while he got a closer look at the alien attachment.

The translucent purplish legs were still tucked underneath, he wondered why there weren’t any legs in the original model that he chose during the ReBirth process.

Trying to move the centipede's legs was a huge mental challenge, that only had them barely twitching. It kind of felt like he was trying to unclamp his fingers but his whole hand was paralyzed shut. He waved the linked muscled carapace around, feeling its hefty weight and appreciating its maneuverability. He thought he might be able to use it as a weapon if push came to shove.

⚡️

It took Wit three days of exercise, which included running, jumping, chasing his tails, rolling around in the dirt, and fighting imaginary monsters before he felt confident enough to venture outside. In Between those bouts of energy was deep blissful sleep.

The bed of moist soil and artificial sunlight circling it, seemed to keep him fed and hydrated every time he fell asleep. He guessed that was thanks to his [photosynthesis] organix; a trait of the Druids. Yawning wide on the fourth day, he stretched and pushed himself up.

“Dex, It's finally time,” Wit said with energy and excitement only a ten-year-old can summon.

“Indeed it is, body scans show a clear improvement in muscle growth and harmony.” Was Poindexter's robotic reply.

Swaggering his way towards the root-covered exit door, Wit grinned with mischief as he threw his hand high, flexed his thorns out, and swung with all his might. His tails moved with him and not against him. The thorns on his feet dug into the ceramic floor, scraping for purchase to give him stability as he ripped five lines into the thick roots.

The damage was deep but minimal and after a few seconds, clear amber sap with a soft yellow radiance began to bleed out of the scar. Wit didn’t stop, he swung again and again taking out chunks of the sap-covered roots, digging his way out, and getting the fur on his arms covered in the sticky syrup. Once the gap was large enough, Wit didn’t hesitate to crawl his way through.

Pulling the rest of his body out of the hole had him falling backward into a dim tunnel covered in slightly luminescent glowing amber trails. These streaks dimmed and waned before pulsing back to higher opacity, giving the room an amberish glow. The air that flooded the room felt hot, thick, suffocating, and sticky, making the tufts of fur throughout his body feel uncomfortable in the stiffness.

Taking a deep breath of the syrupy and somewhat tasty air, Wit took his first step into the new world. The door behind him shuttered closed behind the roots, feeling vaguely familiar to when he walked past the closing crystal motif entryway thirty-four years ago. He didn’t look back. He grinned with excitement and his tails behind him waved happily.

All of a sudden his Omnitrix began to vibrate drawing his attention, curious he lifted his wrist wondering what it was doing. The second it had his full undivided attention it stopped and the pixels lit up orange and shifted into a low opacity flat panel.

Discovered Unclaimed Territory

{Yggdrasil}

The seed that grew..

You do not meet the requirements to claim.

Requirements

Alpha control over ecosystem organix

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Ecosystem Insight 1%

-{Eærth}

Wit was taken back by the message, “Poindexter are you doing this?”

“No, from my scans, it originated from an outside ping that bypassed all clearance. It says it's from {Eærth}.”

“Earth, as in the planet, why is it spelt like that?” Wit was shaken at the idea the planet could communicate with him.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Wit” Poindexter replied in his usual monotone, not understanding the magnitude of what that could mean or the a.i. did and just couldn't properly express it.

Dismissing the panel, Wit chose to think about that later. And besides he didn't want to claim this forsaken tower or [Yggdrasil] or whatever it was called now, he just wanted to get out.

Looking left and right showed two of what seemed like the same option. Walls wrapped from ceiling to floor by the interlocking roots that seem to have taken over everything. The tunnel was just big enough for him to stand, with maybe a foot to spare above his head. Wit couldn’t find any signs of the buried Babel through all the growth, leaving him to guess which direction would take him up.

“Dex, pull up the map.” Wit ordered while lifting his Omnitrix

A three-dimensional model of the small piece of tunnel he was currently in and the nest behind him appeared. Along with a new icon called ecosystem insight with the same one percent next to it. Wit was disappointed that everything else he hadn't explored was still dark but that's what one percent meant he supposed.

Closing the map, he asked Poindexter a question.“Dex why don’t you have any map data for Babel, as an a.i. made here, shouldn't you know everything about this place?”

“I only know what you know, I do have full memory drives but until it is relevant they do not appear. The more data you obtain the more we can utilize the knowledge stored in my memory so that I may assist you in your endeavors.” Was Poindexter's androgynous reply.

“I guess that makes sense. Hey, when we were in the nest you said you can analyze things right?” Wit asked as he wiped off some of the sap sticking to his face from his tight crawl.

“Affirmative, it is a part of the {memo} application. Place a sample of the substance in the slot underneath the Omnitrix for material analysis.”

Taking a glob of the luminous sap, Wit dropped it in the analyzer. The sap was then absorbed leaving the small spiraling divot on the Omnitrix slightly glowing and empty.

“It will take some time to get a thorough reading, I will inform you once it is complete,” Poindexter stated.

“Sounds good, I’m really curious how all this syrup is glowing. That can't be natural can it?” Wit asked, fascinated by the trails of pulsing amber.

“Bioluminescence is natural. How this tree sap seemed to achieve it, remains to be unseen.”

Wit barely heard Poindexter's reply, both his ears perked up and shifted to the right side of the tunnel, focusing in on a peculiar sound. The noise reminded him of the hum that the artificial air currents would make throughout Babel. It sounded like air rapidly moving through a tight space.

Wits eyes widened when tufts of his curly green hair began to flutter in the hot moist draft wind. He looked around, noting the small pools of sap, the streaks of it from ceiling to floor, and the undamaged roots behind it all. Wait a second. Wit thought

How is there so much sap out here, if all the roots aren’t leaking like the ones I damaged?

It suddenly dawned on him. “Oh no, it's gonna flood!”

He thought about trying to go back into the nest before crushing that idea. He wouldn’t go backward, he would be careful, but he refused to play it safe. Getting low and flexing his thorns into the roots for traction, Wit took off down the left tunnel away from the sound of rushing air.

Galloping as fast as he could, he felt the draft pick up behind him. Wit expected to run into a turn or a curve or anything, but it kept going straight. His head was on a swivel looking for any sort of cover or a way out of this death trap of a tunnel. Nothing stood out, he was beginning to panic as the wind picked up to the point where every leap felt like he was hovering.

Something slapped against his arm mid-gait, causing Wit to tumble and scream out as two more projectiles rammed into his back. He looked down in alarm, there was a globule of clear amber sap splattered across his arm coalescing into a slug with an amber crystal for a brain. Before he could register what just happened, it hopped off into the draft, spinning in the fast current.

Staring blankly at the other two sap creatures crawling off of him got him gooped by another one in the back of his head, sending him tumbling further into the hot gale force winds alongside dozens of sapslugs? Instead of fighting the current, Wit pulled himself into it, staying as low as he could get to dodge the slugs. Once he realized that this was the flood, his panic was buried by adrenaline.

The slugs seemed to be relatively harmless, but the winds were so fast now he was practically flying. He tucked his limbs, keeping them from breaking against the fast-moving tunnel. His flat chitinous [exo] tail waved in the wind currents as if swimming, it helped adjust his position, essentially steering him through the dangerous terrain.

Wit could tell by now that the tunnel had a severe dip, he was going down instead of up. Even knowing that he was moving away from his goal, he had a nervous smile. He couldn’t deny how exciting and heart-pumping this all was.

Multiple slugs had hitched a ride, using him to surf the current, and his segmented tail made this feel more like an extreme sport than extreme danger.

Racing down the tunnel at a speedy clip, Wit felt the need to whoop and holler as he flew. It felt primal and exhilarating. He laughed with childlike glee as he spun around the seemingly never-ending passage, staying upside down inches away from the ceiling, feeling the most alive he's ever felt in his life. Glancing at the other racers made him laugh even harder as they were flung through the air with zero control.

Without any warning, the tunnel abruptly ended, shooting him out into a large gorge. His laughter turned into a gasp of horror as all the lift he had under his metaphorical wings became a sudden free fall. He was face up looking at the roof of the chasm, for a second he once again forgot he was in danger. The view was absolutely breathtaking.

There were these clusters of glowing dried-up crystal amber, creating sideways stalagmites that circled dozens of vents. Roots poured out of the gaps of the stalagmites crawling their way down, wrapping themselves around the curved walls of the gorge. The way the luminescent pulsed in the hot misty air, created a beautiful light show in the vent-pushed swirling vapors.

Wits eyes twinkled in wonder before getting blobbed in the face by a passing sapslug; reminding him of the very present danger. He twisted around midair to see how bad his landing would be and screamed when he got a good look. There was a pool of molten amber sap, glowing white hot at the center.

Hundreds of sapslugs were oozing out of the air vents splashing into the hot mix, only to swim down closer to the center. The roots made the pool look more like a bowl as it hugged the edges of the deadly syrup. Wit was at a loss, there was nothing he could do to save himself. At this rate, he probably had ten seconds before he took a nose dive into the deep end of life.

Still, his curiosity had him asking I wonder what that is. As his pupils constricted into slits from the bright molten amber.

Deciding that if he was gonna die anyway, he might as well get a view of it before he melts. He was scared and upset that his first day would also be his last. Maybe he should’ve played it safe and gone back into the nest. At least it was fun while it lasted. He thought sardonically,

He stopped screaming and closed his mouth shut so he wouldn’t swallow any sap. He shut his eyes tight to prevent them from burning too fast. He brought his hands together so he could pierce as deep as possible. The last few seconds before the plunge was mental torture, in more ways than one, he was at his wits’ end.