The sun hung relentlessly in the sky, and even with his makeshift thermal suit, Zog could feel the oppressive heat gnawing at him. The beverage chiller on his back gurgled faintly, barely keeping up. For all his heat-resistant alloy, Blip was panting loudly as his sunhat flopped lopsidedly in the wind.
“This isn’t working,” Zog said, shuffling across the salt flats. The shimmering ground sparkled like a field of diamonds, but each step crunched unnervingly beneath their boots. “We need shade. Or shelter. Or—”
“Less whining,” Blip interrupted, poking at the ground with his paw. “Keep an eye out for anything cactus-y that looks friendly. Or, you know, not robicidal.”
“Structural integrity at 72%,” IND-E’s voice crackled from Zog’s helmet. “That’s for you, by the way. I gave up tracking the ship’s condition five minutes ago.”
Zog groaned. “We’re not even that far from the ship. Why does it feel like—”
CRACK.
The sound was sharp and sudden, followed by the eerie sensation of the ground giving way beneath their feet. Zog froze as the salt crust beneath him splintered like thin ice.
“Uh… Blip?” Zog started, his voice rising.
Blip glanced over. “What now?”
Before Zog could answer, the ground collapsed entirely, plunging them both into darkness.
Zog hit the ground with a thud, a plume of fine, cool dust rising around him. For a moment, he lay there, too stunned to move. Above him, a faint beam of light filtered through the hole they had fallen through.
“Well,” IND-E remarked, its voice echoing faintly in the darkness, “that’s one way to beat the heat.”
“Shut up,” Zog muttered, groaning as he sat up. His suit creaked ominously but appeared to be intact. “Blip? You okay?”
“I’m fine,” came Blip’s voice from a nearby pile of rubble. He emerged a moment later, brushing dust from his alloyed frame. “Sunhat’s a goner, though. A tragedy, really.”
Zog adjusted his visor, his eyes struggling to adapt to the dim light. The air was noticeably cooler here, starkly contrasting the blistering heat above. As the dust settled, the tunnel came into view.
The walls were smooth and glassy as if melted into shape. Strange, faintly glowing lines crisscrossed the surface, pulsing softly in shades of green and blue. The floor was covered in a fine layer of silty dust, and the tunnel stretched out in both directions, disappearing into the gloom.
“What is this place?” Zog whispered, running a hand over the smooth wall.
“Cooler than the surface,” Blip said, shaking his ears. “That’s all I care about.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
At the end of the tunnel, Zog and Blip stumbled into a cavern far larger than they could have imagined. The walls were lined with the now-familiar glowing patterns, but these walls pulsated rhythmically as though syncing with a heartbeat. A massive carrot-shaped entity was at the cavern's centre, surrounded by a tangle of thick, spiny roots.
The entity was massive and vibrantly coloured, glowing faintly under the cavern’s bioluminescent light. Its rough, pitted surface was marked with lines that resembled a frowning face. Thin tendrils of root twitched around it as though constantly “thinking” or scanning its environment.
As they approached, the cavern hummed with ominous energy. The glowing lines on the walls flared, and an unearthly voice boomed directly into their minds.
“INTRUDERS! TRESPASSERS! MEDDLING OFF-WORLDER FOOLS! DO YOU DARE APPROACH THE ROOT OF ALL CACTI?”
Blip froze mid-step, his eyes glowing faintly. “Well, this is how it ends. Cooked alive and insulted by a talking carrot.”
Gripping his beverage chiller nervously, Zog managed a stammered, “We—we mean no harm!”
The voice grew louder, and the walls seemed to tremble with its rage.
“NO HARM? NO HARM? YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME OF HARM WHEN YOU HAVE DISTURBED MY SLUMBER AND POLLUTED MY TUNNELS WITH YOUR... YOUR... FLESHY, ROBOTIC... UGH, WHATEVER YOU ARE?”
“ESP-ranting carrot,” Blip muttered under his breath. “Officially weirder than the cacti upstairs.”
Before Zog could spiral into a full-blown panic, the voice changed. The booming anger faded, replaced by a more conversational tone—still loud but now almost jovial.
“Oh, relax! I’m just messing with you. Can’t a planetary overlord have a little fun?”
The carrot visibly shifted, its roots wiggling playfully. The frowning “face” softened into something resembling a smile. The glowing patterns on the walls dimmed slightly, making the cavern feel less threatening.
“Wait,” Zog said, blinking. “You’re… not going to destroy us?”
“Destroy you? Why would I do that? You’ve made it all the way down here, didn’t you? That’s impressive! The last group fell into a brine pit before reaching the tunnels.”
The Root of All Cacti explained its ability to communicate via a form of telepathic signal it called “Resonant Root Sync,” a technology that allowed it to connect with any being who stepped into its domain. It boasted about its intelligence and claimed to know “everything about everyone.”
When Blip questioned this, the carrot immediately rattled off a list of Blip’s most embarrassing moments—including the time he accidentally chased a holographic comet and his humiliating loss to a toaster in a logic game. Blip growled in response, muttering, “This thing’s worse than IND-E.”
Zog, sweating bullets despite his beverage chiller, took a cautious step forward. The cavern’s glowing walls pulsed in time with the booming voice of the Root of All Cacti. Its immense carrot-like form loomed over him, roots shifting and twitching like impatient fingers.
“YOU DARE REQUEST MY COOLANT POOLS?” the Root thundered, its voice rattling Zog’s circuits. “THAT IS LIKE ASKING A STAR TO SPARE ITS LIGHT OR A PLANET TO FORGO ITS GRAVITY. INSOLENT HUMANOID!”
Zog stammered, “W-we wouldn’t take much. Just enough to—”
“TO WHAT? TO SUSTAIN YOUR PATHETIC JOURNEY ACROSS THIS UNIVERSE? DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT COSTS ME TO PRODUCE THOSE POOLS?”
Blip, stepping forward, muttered, “Probably less than it costs me to replace a sunhat.”
The Root paused, its glowing patterns dimming slightly. “WHAT DID YOU SAY?”
Zog quickly intervened, waving his arms. “He said nothing! Absolutely nothing! We’ll just… leave.”
“LEAVE?” The Root’s voice thundered again. “YOU WILL COMPLETE A TASK BEFORE YOU LEAVE. I DEMAND IT.”
Zog exchanged a nervous glance with Blip. “What kind of task?”
The Root’s frown deepened, its roots twitching menacingly. “YOU MUST… GROOM MY ROOTS.”
“Groom?” Blip tilted his head. “Like brushing? That’s it?”
“YES,” the Root boomed. “AND DO NOT MOCK ME! MY ROOTS HAVE NOT BEEN TENDED FOR A CENTURY. THIS IS YOUR PENANCE.”
Zog sighed, already regretting the day he’d set foot on this planet. “Alright. Let’s find a rake or something.”
Blip, ever the diplomat, muttered under his breath. “Well, this is going great.”