Unscramble Roots Novels & Stories

"What do trees have?" Luo Ying'er asked with a smile. "The trunk, the leaves." "What else?" "A tree root." "Yes, roots." Luo Ying'er said with a smile. The ant commander frowned. After some thought, he suddenly understood everything. "In order for this tree to grow, there must be roots. Furthermore, the roots of a tree are even longer than the tree itself. Thus, as long as we hide underground and link up the roots of the tree, every single tree will actually be linked together?"

He didn't even understand the basic technical jargon. It seemed like the shop owner truly wasn't responsible for the fake herbs, but someone else instead. Frederick explained, "Forest-grown roots don't mean the Dragon's Tear roots are grown in the forest. It's just as shoddy, that's all. Forest-grown roots mean that the Dragon's Tear roots were placed in a faux-wilderness plot of soil and tended to by people. It's then stimulated to accelerate growth by technological means.

There was a wildness to it, a dangerous edge that refused to be tamed completely. But before I could fully grasp the extent of my new abilities, something went wrong. The roots, once obedient, began to writhe uncontrollably, spreading outward in every direction. They coiled around nearby trees, crushing trunks and branches with violent force. “Stop,” I whispered, panic rising in my chest. But the power had slipped from my control, like a beast unleashed from its cage. The roots surged toward me, faster than I could react. I stumbled back, raising my hands to stop them, but the energy within me faltered—wild and unpredictable, just as I had feared.

Stone split near the center of the room with a deafening snap. We jumped back instinctively as ancient roots burst through the floorboards. Not tree roots. Burial roots. Black. Twisted. Glowing faintly with silver markings. My blood ran cold. Kairos stepped in front of me instantly. “What the hell—” “It found us.” The roots moved. Not growing. Reaching. Toward me. “Kairos, don’t touch them!” Too late. He slashed at one with his claws. The moment metal met root—

The roots were thick, mature, exactly what Maren’s notes described. “You can’t pull,” she said, kneeling beside the cluster. “The compounds are in the root fibers. If you yank it, the fibers tear and the healing properties break down within hours.” She produced a small knife and worked it into the soil around the base of the largest plant. “You cut underneath. Separate the root system from the surrounding soil without breaking the connections. Then you wrap the root in damp moss to keep it viable during transport.”

said Azareel expressing his opinion. Nelson's eyes looked worried, he didn't want to see the fight again but it was impossible, because the tree roots that had been bothering him began to show his movements in front of his other friends. "The roots are moving!" exclaimed Reymond. All eyes are toward the roots which are getting bigger and bigger. “A creeper,” murmurs Azareel after seeing the movement of the tree's roots. Bit by bit, black light forming eyes and mouth began to appear on the tree trunk.

he called out. I crossed to where he was crouching and looked at what he'd found. There it was, a dark root, dense, growing right at the water's edge where the ground was coldest. "That's it," I said. I knelt down carefully, aware of Mark watching, and worked it free from the ground. Finally, the root came out. Clean break at the base. Intact all the way through. Dark and dense and alive in exactly the way the damaged one hadn't been.

But as the dust cleared, the city lights began to flicker. Alexander grinned from his station. “We did it! We hijacked the relay grid!” Across Garden City, Kane’s command screens went black—replaced by a single symbol: 🌿 And below it, a phrase glowing in green letters: “We are the roots. You are the rot.” Kane roared in fury. “Find him! Find Cross!” Rourke shouted back, “We can’t—the entire communication network is hijacked!” Kane’s fist slammed down. “Then burn what’s left!”

Rogue chuckled softly and hugged me. "We are pereche Hera and I believe that with all my being," he said firmly and I nodded telling him I felt the same. "Do you know anything about a small black root," I asked him curiously and he furrowed his brow and nodded. "Yes, it's the ancient ones' fetuses, they are small black roots that need to take root in their host," he explained bitterly and I swallowed uncomfortably. "How do you...wait, did Vlad give you one," he asked roughly and I nodded my head.

The ground kept them. He thought: the ground will keep Ruth. The ground will keep Ernest and Don — not in the biographical sense but in the soil sense, the way that the 1920s gardeners are in the soil. The programme's account in the ground. The foxgloves' roots. The quince grove's root zone. The south wall roses' root structure. These are in the ground and the ground keeps them and the ground will continue keeping them after the keeping-producers are gone.