A very specific communicator was held in Velvet’s hand. She’d just received an acknowledgement of her message to Runa. The main content hadn’t been about her voidsteel dagger. Even so, she was heartened that her friend said they would provide a replacement for Velvet- should they ever again meet in person. Nothing further was required.

That did give Velvet some ideas for the future. The Spirit Slicing Sect by itself couldn’t stand up to the Exalted Quadrant, but as part of the Chaotic Conglomeration they were able to cause them quite a bit of trouble. They were already in conflict with the Exalted Quadrant anyway, so it wasn’t like Velvet would be leading people into trouble unnecessarily.

Thus came the main thrust of her message. Obviously the Citadel of Exalted Light would not want to spread the message that Zaur Beridze was injured, so of course that was exactly what Velvet told Runa. She gave as many details as she could, as it wasn’t like she had retained anonymity in the assault. It was fairly obvious who the responsible parties were. Thus, even if the message were intercepted somehow it would merely have been inconvenient.

The return message had taken some months to arrive, given both the distance and the particular methods required. The Spirit Slicing Sect didn’t exactly have the required technological setup for a more secure and swift transmission. That said, it wasn’t entirely unsecure, it was simply Velvet’s job to think about such things. The chances of interception were quite low for each individual transmission, but it would increase greatly if they were actively trying to capture transmissions along a particular route. Even with paired communicators the security was imperfect.

Velvet needed to find an opportunity to see Runa again, both for practical purposes and because she did believe in their friendship, even if they had only spent a relatively short number of years in each other’s presence. Such a friendship was no less real because of the time involved, though more likely to fade into practical acquaintances if no effort was taken to maintain.

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Anton felt a great amount of tension from the events in the upper realms, even if he couldn’t affect it in any way. Or perhaps because he couldn’t. Learning that they had even partial success with their counter plans was quite gratifying.

The reason he worried was not because he didn’t trust their abilities, but because he didn’t have anything else to concern himself with in the lower realms. Not that everything was perfect, but because nothing needed him in particular. So he felt like he was waiting for the next big thing, instead of actively participating in anything.

So he assigned himself a project. A lengthy one, but one he thought was worthwhile- yet one that was also entirely unnecessary. Sometimes, the things he enjoyed doing and should do turned into chores and he had to correct himself so as to not fall into a lasting ennui. Cultivation was supposed to be pleasant, if not necessarily exciting.

A return to Maheg was what was necessary. All of his questions about the star would be answered in time even without his involvement. Hordes of archaeologists were swarming the planets looking at the remains of the civilization there, not exactly preserved but not decayed in the usual fashions.

As Anton entered the system, he felt the star reach out for him. He approached closer, and they exchanged a ‘handshake’. The energy Anton extended for the effort was still annihilated like his previous attempts, but more slowly than before. He got a feeling of pleasant recognition, though the rest of the emotions the star might have held were too alien or muddled for him to make much out of.

He then flew to the planet, avoiding those working there. Hordes might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but there were teams in each major city- and as it was a whole planet they could have easily had thousands of people just to begin to scratch the surface. Anton, however, was unconcerned with their style of pots or delving into their history. He would gladly hear it if anyone managed to figure out more than the surface level destruction that had occurred, but detailed information on that front was slow to piece together.

What Anton had planned wasn’t anything world shattering. He simply searched for any remnants of plants that had survived the excessive solar radiation. What he really wanted were seeds. The chances of anything remaining viable after so much time was negligible, but he managed to find a few remnants to start his project.

At first Anton intended to simply begin work where he was, but he wasn’t sure how long the efforts of others might take surveying the planet. His plans would also disturb what remained… since he intended to try to re-establish life.

The balance was a bit harder to manage with only plants and nothing that would eat them. He’d have to at the very least bring some bacteria to help break things down. Beyond that, he couldn’t say what he might need- if the project even went anywhere to begin with.

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A single segment of grain rested in Anton’s palm. A seed, from which could grow a hundred times what it was or more. Or at least, that was what it was supposed to be. But what he truly held was pretty much nothing more than some loose organic matter.

He dove deep into its structure, below the cellular level. Most of the cells had collapsed, even though they were more durable than animal cells. Deeper than that, the pieces that made up each cell had withered under the fury of time, as well as intense solar radiation. Strands of DNA were broken down, no single chain holding the pattern for what this seed might grow into.

Anton slowly manipulated tiny strands, attempting to piece together at least one whole replica. Between every seed he carried with him, he managed to piece together what he thought was a representative sample of a single chain. Well, two thirds of one- and not connected in the middle. If only he could grow two-thirds of a plant with his results, he would have been content.

He needed something more intact. He returned to the planet, driving his senses deep into the ground, searching for long buried traces of organic matter. Fossils of various flora occasionally revealed themselves, but they were useless for creating anything but an image of what once was, and an incomplete one at that.

But he did manage to find traces of what he was looking for, buried in the ground. The deeper it was, the longer it had been there- but the more protected it was from solar radiation. Anton scooped a pile of deep soil from a thousand years prior, taking it with him to the moon which he was beginning his project on.

It took quite a few different strands to replicate a single proper stretch of DNA. Anton wasn’t even certain it was all from the same plant or plants, but he did his best. Piece by piece, he put together something resembling a seed. He planted the seed, providing a secure area with healthy soil, a balanced atmosphere, and not too much sunlight.

As he waited for it to grow, he formed another… and another. Each took days or weeks, and even then most of them didn’t manage to begin growing. That could have been from various failures. Perhaps he had not replicated enough of the plant’s structure for it to take hold. Some didn’t even begin to put out roots, having no sense of life in them despite Anton creating the various structures of cells, comparing them to actual healthy plants he had from elsewhere.

Ultimately, he had to admit this wasn’t his specialty. Anton was a farmer who grew plants from seed, not a scientist who manipulated genetic information. He could tell a healthy plant from one that was sick, but he worked at a much higher level in general.

But just because he was apparently quite poor at what he was trying to do didn’t mean he wanted to stop. Because though the first sprout to break the surface soon withered away despite the care he gave it, it gave him hope.

Years ticked by without Anton doing anything ‘useful’. He wasn’t growing new crops that would have great yield or strong resistance to disease. Nor was he certain any of them would be edible, let alone have decent flavor or proper nutritional balance.

Even so, very slowly, he began to get viable samples that properly maintained their form. The first thing he grew would generally be called weeds. Scraggly things, known only for their heartiness. But weeds were defined by whoever didn’t want them, and Anton wanted these. So instead, they were examples. Demonstrations of what could be done.

Not long after, Anton had a decent grass growing- a long grass that happily filled up whatever space it was given.

Then some mosses and shrubs, the growing environments diversifying into their own little formations representing different climates and seasons. The formations were simple enough that even Anton could put them together, small bubbles that contained air- imported from elsewhere, since the moon couldn’t hold it.

A smile lit up Anton’s face as he watched them grow. He was truthfully still uncertain if anything he made even resembled the flora of the planet, despite being made from them. Anton became better at recognizing what things might grow into from their base genetics, but that might have biased how he stitched the pieces together. However, the more semi-complete segments he saw the better a picture he had of the ‘correct’ arrangement of things. At the very least, he was more consistent at creating viable seeds.

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Occasionally, Anton was called away from his new gardens. Sometimes, that was for a discussion with the people nearby, whether the archaeologists or the various people studying Mahegitself. When he had to leave the system for some matter or other, Anton did his best to make sure his garden would last without his care.

He also created backup seeds, so that he would have future generations of anything. It probably didn’t matter, because they were at best imitations of what the system must have once had, but he found it quite pleasant.

Then there was a ship in distress, its engines having failed between systems on its way to Maheg. That wouldn’t have normally needed Anton to assist them, but the failure caused damage to the ship’s hull as well. He would reach them before any of the local ships, and he rushed off to aid them. Bringing a single small ship with him was easy enough, especially now that he didn’t have issues of recovering his natural energy between systems.

Once the matter was resolved, several days had passed. Not enough to be catastrophic for anything stable, but Anton worried about some of his newer seeds. When he returned, however, he found everything well taken care of. He assumed one of his regular helpers had come along, but when he asked around to thank whoever it was, nobody took credit. While it wouldn’t have been a big deal for someone to come around and make sure things were watered and the like, he was still curious.

He searched for traces of lingering energy, but found nothing abnormal. There weren’t any signs of anything except for his own energy and the normal background energy of the system. But his curiosity wouldn’t fade, and he continued to ponder on the subject for some time.

Then he realized what it might be. However, he had no way to prove his hypothesis while he stayed around. Rushing off immediately wasn’t the best plan, however, so he tended his gardens for a while longer. Then he asked some of the helpful people from Rutera for some simple technology they had. With that, a short journey should provide some answers. Or perhaps he’d have to start his garden again, but that wouldn’t be the worst thing.