LOGIN**Kelly Thompson's POV**The golden sapling doesn’t speak—it *sings*.Its voice is a dissonant chorus of static and roots, harmonizing with the hum of the fractures splitting the sky. The survivors kneel before it, their eyes reflecting its luminous leaves, but Ravel stands apart, her gun aimed at i
**Kelly Thompson's POV** The sapling isn't just a tree-it's a *mirror*. Its obsidian bark reflects my face, twisted into the Rootmother's cruel smile. The emerald leaves whisper with my voice, taunting, coaxing. The survivors circle it, their weapons trembling. Some beg me to burn it. Others kneel
The spiral scar on my palm throbs, tendrils of emerald light snaking up my arm. It's not just a brand anymore-it's a *bridge*. --- **The Memory Thief** The first hallucination hits at dawn. I'm back in the cabin, Eden's laughter echoing as he skins a rabbit. But when he turns, his eyes are Nessa
**Kelly Thompson's POV** The Seeds don't fall-they *root*. Each one pierces the earth like a bullet, sprouting into monstrous hybrids of flora and flesh. Trees grow skeletal hands, flowers bloom into screaming mouths, and the air thickens with pollen that glows like emerald fire. The Rootmother wa
**Kelly Thompson's POV** The emerald star isn't a star-it's a *cage*. Its light doesn't illuminate; it *dissolves*. The wasteland's obsidian spires crumble under its gaze, reduced to ash that swirls in toxic, glowing clouds. The survivors call it "the Verdant," a name that feels too gentle for som
**Kelly Thompson's POV** The girl steps forward, her face a mirror of Ravel's-sharp jawline, storm-gray eyes, the same scar slicing through her brow-but her posture is all wrong. Too rigid, too calculated. Her gaze locks onto mine, and the static in my chest *twists*, like a key turning in a rusted
LORRY SPRINGSTONE'S / KELLY THOMPSON'S POV "Tina, who is that? What the heck is she doing here?" Jason interrogates authoritatively, ignoring by the way politeness.I'm shocked (Tina not, of course she must be used to this bad manner) for two particular reasons. First: the monarch has not changed.
LORRY SPRINGSTONE'S / KELLY THOMPSON'S POV THREE DAYS LATER...Another day has risen since my comeback to the South pack. However, today or more exactly tonight, with the gods' blessings, it's going to be a new departure for me and my son Eden. Yes, indeed my son. I'm totally certain about it now.
After a quick breakfast with Agatha, we prepare to venture into the woods. I take a deep breath, feeling the energy of the forest pulsing around me. "Stay close," Jason instructs, his eyes scanning our surroundings for any signs of danger. Eden, now wide awake and full of energy, hops beside us, c
As the night wears on, I find myself watching Eden's every breath, terrified that he might suddenly stop breathing. My fury at Jason and the situation gradually gives way to an overwhelming protective instinct. This child - my child - has suffered enough. I won't let him endure another moment of pai







