If you're reading this, you're looking at my journal about what happened to me in my afterlife.
First things first, this is my new story. Let's call it the second part, if you've been following me up until now. Am I starting from scratch, being sent to another reality again? Well, not exactly. But one day, I created a sort of 'Horcrux'—I mean, a node in my old village. Yes, that's the gist of it. I won't bore you with complaints, but, honestly, I was better off than most. I didn’t exactly die, but my body and its functions were sealed by something when that artifact tried to leave a permanent mark on my soul… or, more specifically, on part of it.
In that moment, my consciousness immediately sought refuge in the most serene part of my soul. And, along with the part untouched by the seal, I severed the connection with that energy, creating a small rupture in my core. And then, I fled through the gaps, leaving my body behind.
Now, let me tell you: the life of a tree isn’t so bad. I wake up with the first light of the sun and feed off the light of the moon as well. You didn’t read that wrong. This tree speaking to you feeds 24/7, thanks to a soul also nourished by the energy of darkness.
First of all, I’m not “evil.” I’m just… unique. Unfortunately, being unique is complicated in this society. This elemental affinity is not well-developed in this world, and, well, most people who have it, when persecuted by society that judges you, without even knowing you, end up being drawn toward the darker side of the darkness.
And yes, about this world... that’s another thing. I’m not originally from here, actually. I was a moderately renowned programmer and developer on Earth, with several awards to my name. And, in the creation of my new greatest invention, I stumbled upon a hidden secret of the universe. This secret, combined with my project, led me to the start of my journey in another reality. Well, my first beginning, technically speaking. As a baby boy, to be precise.
But that’s the past now…
What matters is the present, and the peculiar state I find myself in. A tree, yes, but more than that—a being straddling two realms, an entity of both light and shadow, of life and something far older, far darker. As I stand here in this forest, rooted but not bound, I can feel the pulse of the world around me, the ebb and flow of energy that sustains all things. It’s a strange sensation—soothing yet unsettling, familiar yet alien.
You might think a tree would be content, just standing still, letting time pass by. But I’m not like other trees. I don’t simply watch the world go by; I feel it. I understand it. And it’s clear to me now that something is shifting. The energies in this world are not stable. There are ripples in the fabric of reality, I guess I can describe it like this, disturbances I can sense deep within my roots. And, for reasons I can’t quite explain, I feel as though I’m being drawn toward something—a purpose, perhaps. Or maybe it's just the inevitable pull of fate. Or, who knows, maybe it’s just the fact that this place doubles as a five-star watering hole packed with nutrient-rich hydration. Honestly, I can’t say for sure—I’m just a tree now.
Don’t you think so, System?
"..."
Still no response. Well, I can’t say I didn’t expect this. It was the same when I was a baby in my mother’s womb, still trying to understand what was happening around me. I believe it’s some kind of adaptation parameter for this new structure I find myself in. Something like... "System Status."
[System recovering]
[58% until module stabilization]
[Modules enabled:
* Status
* Statistics
* Skill library
]
Ah, of course, another curious detail. This system doesn’t belong to this reality either. It’s my greatest project, my most advanced creation to date, and, if I’m being honest, perhaps it’s the only reason I was able to transition between dimensions. The system I now carry with me is a blend of advanced technology and something more—a link between what I was and what I’ve become.
In essence, I believe this system is the reason I exist in the way I do now. Not because of the unfortunate tree-like state I find myself in—that dubious achievement was entirely my own doing, courtesy of a small, unconscious mishap during the early stages of my research in this world. But today, I see it differently. The system I once crafted with pure digital programming has evolved, merging the physical and the immaterial into something far greater within me. A fusion I never imagined possible… and yet, here I am, a walking—or, well, rooted—testament to it.
It’s what keeps me aware of what’s happening around me, gives me a sharpened perception of the forces in my environment, and, to be truthful, it’s the only thing that allows me to feel any semblance of control over my situation. Not that I want to control it, but the awareness of my existence without a physical body is... unsettling, to say the least.
What intrigues me the most is how it’s recovering. It’s not typical for a system like this to take so long to stabilize, especially given the precision with which it was designed. A system that, in theory, should have autonomy and adapt instantly to the new reality. And yet, here we are, at 58% of recovery. Fifty-eight! A percentage that, if I’m being blunt, is far from reassuring.
As I stand here, rooted in place, I realize that I’m no longer bound by the frailties of flesh, yet I am far from the freedom I once took for granted. I was once a person—able to move, think, to create with my hands—but now, I’m something else entirely. A tree, yes, but also something far more complex, but also a conduit, a strange fusion of nature and the arcane. I feel the pulse of the world around me, the steady rhythm of life coursing through the soil, weaving through the air, and flowing into me. It’s intoxicating, yet grounding. Yet, despite this connection, I still feel the weight of my previous life—my desire to move, to act, to regain some semblance of the power I once had.
This new form, this tree-body, while powerful in its own right, comes with its own set of limitations. I may not be able to run or fight the way I once did, but I’ve learned—Survival is no longer about running or fighting—it’s about becoming. In fact, survival now means adapting, learning, and gaining control of the forces that govern this reality. It’s about embracing this form, understanding it, mastering it. And I am not a passive observer anymore. I can feel my connection to the environment growing stronger, more refined.
I need to be able to protect myself, to stand my ground against any potential threat. Still, I can’t shake the nagging thought that I am exposed. Vulnerable. I can’t afford to wait for the System to finish recovering. ‘What if I’m attacked before it stabilizes?’ My thoughts spiral, but I force myself to focus. I cannot afford despair. Instead, I turn inward, seeking the power that I know is there, waiting to be unearthed. I need to take action now, before the balance tips further, before whatever force I sense closing in on me becomes real.
I begin to focus inwardly, drawing from the energies around me. My roots dig deeper into the soil, reaching for the pulse of life beneath the earth. And there it is—a pulse. Faint, but undeniable. I can feel the natural energy flowing—distant, unshaped, untapped. The lifeblood of the world itself, flowing beneath the surface like an unbroken river. I reach for it, carefully drawing it toward me. It’s raw and unshaped, the kind of energy that most would overlook, but I know better. I can collect various types of energy in this tree-state. The energy of creation itself if I can feel it. My limitations with affinities when I was a person are no longer so attached to this body. My soul, once acclimatized to the darkness, is a bonus to this formation, and no longer a limitation.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
I can no longer be evil, by the standards of this society. I will be unique. —the essence of the sun, the moon, the wind, and the earth, all interwoven into a seamless tapestry. But it's also my energy mixed in there, my own life force, my own essence threads through it, a whisper of who I once was—a coder, a creator, a problem-solver, now reborn in a new form.
I concentrate, pulling my own essence into the energy around me, blending it, shaping it. It’s not a simple process. It’s like trying to program with an entirely new language—alien and yet familiar, frustrating and yet thrilling. Slowly, painstakingly, I begin to shape it. The energy responds, bending to my will, forming into something new.
A field begins to emerge around me, faint at first, a shimmer in the air —a subtle, almost imperceptible aura. At first, it’s just a whisper, a faint pulse of energy that hums around me. It feels like a protective shield, but it’s not solid. It’s fluid, flexible, as if it were part of the air itself. This field doesn’t just protect me. And for the first time in this new life, I feel a flicker of something resembling confidence. This field isn’t just protection. It’s awareness, it’s connection, it’s control. The weight of vulnerability lessens, replaced by a growing sense of possibility.
Then, something shifts. My vision expands. At first, it’s just a slight widening of perception, but then it grows, almost like the world itself is stretching out, as if I can see in all directions at once. It’s like a sphere forming around me, a bubble of awareness. I can feel everything within this domain— the rustle of leaves, the burrowing of insects, the faint heartbeat of every living thing, even the faintest tremor in the air. Every sensation comes together in a single moment, filling my senses, overwhelming and exhilarating all at once.
I focus, extending this vision further, pushing the boundaries of my awareness. The field begins to grow, reaching out beyond my immediate surroundings. I concentrate harder, pulling in the energy from my core, extending the radius of my perception. The once narrow tunnel of my awareness now expands outward, surrounding me in an ever-growing sphere. I can feel the faint tremors in the ground, the subtle shifts in the air within fifteen meters around me. The energy is mine to shape, mine to command.
I feel the power building within me, not just in the form of raw strength, but in the form of control.
Within this domain, I can guide the stagnant energy directly into my core. Inside me, a fascinating process of purification is taking place—a transformation I don’t yet fully understand but am eager to study further. This once dormant energy is being refined, cleansed of its impurities, and, to my amazement, it becomes mine in the process. What’s even more extraordinary is that I can redirect this purified energy outward, expanding the reach of my domain little by little. It’s a self-sustaining cycle, a passive yet powerful way to grow stronger. This... this is incredible! The potential is limitless, and with every expansion, I feel more connected to the world around me.
The energy collected by this domain is on an entirely different level—neither in scale nor potency can it be compared to the energy I once absorbed from the sun and moon through my leaves and roots. This domain draws far more power, effortlessly and passively, from the environment than any ordinary tree could ever dream of. It’s as if the very essence of the world is flowing into me, unhindered and abundant, fueling my growth in ways I never imagined.
This is no longer just about survival. It’s about mastery. Mastery over the world around me, mastery over myself. I am no longer a passive participant in this reality; I am a force within it. The environment around me is no longer just something to observe—it's something to interact with, to manipulate.
But this is only the beginning. The more I delve into the mysteries of this aura, the more its true potential reveals itself. It’s not just a passive field or a defensive shield—it’s an extension of my very will, a living testament to my presence in this world. Every pulse of energy it absorbs feeds my awareness, every ripple in its reach deepens my connection to the environment. The more I push its boundaries, the clearer I see the intricate threads that bind all things together.
The balance around me is shifting, and for the first time, I feel I have the power to influence it. I focus harder, concentrating on extending the aura, refining it, molding it into a tool of precision rather than brute force. With each moment of clarity, my perception expands—I can sense the minute currents of energy flowing through the air, the subtle vibrations in the earth, the faint signatures of life that move within my range.
Yet, the true strength of this ability isn’t in what it can do now. Its real power lies in what it can become. This aura is alive, dynamic, and limitless in potential. It can grow stronger, evolve with my understanding, and, most importantly, reshape the world around me. Every step forward in mastering it is a step closer to ensuring my survival and solidifying my place in this new life.
This is how I will endure. This is how I will adapt. And this is how I will thrive.
As my roots sink deeper into the soil and my aura expands, I feel the energy around me stretch farther, reaching into areas I’d never sensed before. It’s as if I’m opening my eyes for the first time to something that has always been there, something I never fully understood. The world around me, once confined by the limits of my physical senses, now unfurls before me like a living tapestry. The green of the leaves and the earth's colors blend with the pulsing energy that fills the air, creating a vivid picture of unseen connections.
My spherical vision, now sharper than ever, has reached an impressive range of 95 meters, allowing me to perceive more than just the vibrant lives of the plants intertwined within my domain. Beyond the familiar rustle of leaves and the hum of life coursing through the earth, I notice something new. Far off, where the open fields stretch endlessly, faint shadows move on the horizon—human figures, their outlines hazy yet unmistakable.
As I focus, the energy within my field carries more than just their physical forms. I can sense their presence in a way that goes beyond sight—a subtle resonance that flows into me like echoes of memories half-remembered. Though the details elude me, there’s something undeniably familiar about them, as if my very essence recognizes these individuals.
Then I realize. The tree where I created the node. I recognize it immediately, a fixed point in my memory. The image of my village, slowly begins to form, gradually, within the horizon of my perception. Each house, each street, each person, almost like the time has been rewound in a strange, silent way. There, at the edge of my vision, I see the simple wooden and straw houses, some still marked by time, others with small changes that weren’t there when I… was left behind.
And then, I see them. The human figures become clearer as my aura reaches them. Some of them are familiar—not perfectly, but unmistakable. I see faces, some aged by time, others as if frozen in a reality that has drifted far from mine. People who once played a part in my life, now seem distant, unreal, as if they belong to another version of everything I knew.
I recognize a few of the old neighbors—Feran, the blacksmith, with his strong arms and his ever-serious expression. And beside him, his wife Maris, with restless eyes, as if something is troubling her. I also see other familiar faces—fragmented, like time itself is trying to obscure the clarity with which I once remembered them.
But what draws my attention isn’t just seeing them, it’s the sensation that emanates from their presence. Something’s not right. It’s not only what I see with my expanded eyes; it’s what I feel deep in my soul. There’s a tension in the air, something heavy, an energy that no longer belongs in this place. As if the environment itself has been altered, distorted, since the moment the artifact from the tree—the node—was created. Perhaps the energy I felt when I was marked wasn’t the only thing that fractured, but the balance of my village itself.
As I observe, trying to focus further, my perception of everything around me intensifies. My roots stretch farther, drawing in more energy. And then, suddenly, a feeling of danger floods my consciousness. It’s not tangible, but a presence in the air, as if an unknown being is watching, waiting for the right moment to act.
I try to expand my awareness, reaching toward the center of where that presence originates, but my energy field, still fragile in some areas, begins to waver, and a faint pressure pushes back. Something else is interfering with my field, something that feeds off my strength to get closer. At the same time, I feel the connection to my village, to the people I once knew, weakening.
I focus again, trying to grasp more, trying to understand what’s happening. But then, at the edge of my vision, I see something unexpected: a figure moving furtively between the houses, someone I don’t recognize. The figure hides in the shadows, but its presence is unmistakable. A dense aura, wrapped in energy that feels the opposite of mine, not just darkness, but a disconcerting power—as if it were a twisted reflection of my former self.
The aura I created hums, and I feel an urgent need to act. But amid this new revelation, a question consumes me: Who is this figure? And what is happening to my village?