23. And I Feel Fine (Patreon)

The day's travels are actually pretty fun, all things considered. Sindri's new tamed animal is a tiger-lizard-weasel thing that Kagiso decided to name Bulupunu, which I'm pretty sure means something like 'bald moron.' She named him this after I declared I wanted to try riding him, and in her defense Bulupunu did kind of turn out to be pretty uncomfortable to sit on. His huge, sinuous body is covered in small, rough scales that would probably tear up my skin if I had any. It feels fine on my carapace, but the way the wiggly boy bounces and twists and jumps like an extra-long cat kind of rattles my brain around and forces me to cling desperately to his back lest I be tossed off like an old rag. I quickly return to my usual perch on top of Kagiso's head, much to her smug satisfaction.

I have to admit, though, Bulupunu makes our journey a lot easier. He's naturalborn to Light, and much like the human being I killed and ate that one time in self-defense, that manifests as the ability to create and control lightning. Bulupunu uses this both to hunt—by latching onto something with his huge jaws and pumping them full of volts until they pass out—and to scare away potential hunters by making his body flash bright light and crackle like thunder, which does wonders for scaring away beasts that might actually be dangerous to a lizard-tiger that shoots lightning. Scaly longcat is a good boy and a good friend.

Overall, though, the day isn't very eventful. Teboho and I practice the dentron language some more while Sindri and Kagiso mostly stay quiet, as usual. It's only a half-day of travel instead of the usual full day, and I rest for most of it, avoiding hunting for the time being. I'm hungry, and I twitch to go after the various friend noodles and other small animals in the area, but I'm just not up for it right now. My friends seem to understand, and they just let me munch on meat rations without comment. I'm given last watch again when we make camp and Sindri takes first, letting Kagiso and I snuggle up in her bedroll for the night. I'm a bit bigger than I was yesterday, but not by a lot. Molting is not a speedy method of growth, I guess. Wrapped up in the fuzzy arms of a friend, I drift to sleep.

I wake up and inhale deeply. I no longer need to worry about forgetting to breathe in the morning, since my hyperspider form finally has lungs. The muscles match. Everything feels just a little bit more right. A relaxing day over on the world tree is exactly what I needed to get a bit of a mental reset after the chaos of the day before, and I spend a few moments basking in it before my alarm goes off and my phone reminds me that it's Sunday. I need to go to church with my family. Joy of joys.

Groaning, I quickly do my mental limb check and get myself in order before slithering out from under the covers, dropping on the floor in a crouch. Goddess, my entire right leg is chitin now and it honestly looks kind of sick. Gleaming, pristine porcelain-white, hard and angled with the occasional protruding spike, all with just a hint of pitch black hiding inside the joints. Just looking at it makes me feel powerful, like I could kick through a wall. Hell, maybe I can! My left leg is starting to grow similarly, with my entire foot and some of my shin feeling like it's ready to be freed from the skin. Even more notably, I'm not in pain. Looking around my body, I still see the occasional light scar from what the Goddess did to me, but the agony I went to sleep with is gone completely. I guess my Transmutation magic works a lot better when I'm asleep?

I grab my phone to shut the alarm off, swipe the screen, and then… nothing happens. Blinking with surprise, I poke a finger and realize that they're also covered in dead skin. Ripping it off with my teeth, I quickly learn that all ten of my fingers are fully chitinous now, all the way to the palm. Creepy-looking.

…But the thing is, this shouldn't actually be preventing me from using the touch screen. I've been using my claws to operate my phone for days now, so why is that changing now? Capacitive touchscreens just function using electrical currents; living things are generally great conductors, which is why it works, but anything that can carry even a bit of electrical charge can do the trick. It doesn't even need to have an electrical charge running through it, or at least not an appreciable one. Like, you can use a capacitive touch screen with a soda can if you want to. So how come… wait. Oh gosh.

I don't have any more fingers with living skin, but I still have plenty of skin and that should use a touch screen just fine. But the palm of my hand doesn't work, my elbow doesn't work, my nose doesn't work… the capacitive touch screen can't pick up my body at all, it doesn't seem to matter whether or not I'm touching it with skin. The problem isn't that I'm chitinous, it's that I'm Space-aligned, and Space opposes Light. I've apparently become too electrically resistant to interact with this quintessential piece of modern technology, which is kind of a big stinky pile of cow poo.

Fortunately, I have a workaround. Thin gloves don't prevent you from using a touch screen, but thick gloves do and I need thick gloves for creepy monster finger reasons. So the gloves I bought yesterday are capacitive; there's some copper mesh in the fingertips that lets me use my phone. Of course, I'll have the problem of looking like a complete weirdo for wearing winter gloves in late spring, but it's better than the problem of being trapped at church without even a phone to run away and use in the bathroom to replenish myself from the sanity-draining field that is my congregation.

Well, it is what it is. I shrug to myself with my little spider limbs and bundle up in clothing just so I can walk to the bathroom and strip everything off again. It's the same routine as always, just how I like it: shower, eat my dead skin, try not to carve new holes in the bathtub, get the shampoo out and lather, rinse, repeat. An hour later and I'm stepping out to dry myself off around the same time my brother is waking up. Clothes, makeup, triple-check everything… yeah, we're good to go.

I'm in a weirdly good mood today for how terrible yesterday was, but I'm not going to complain. My brain doesn't seem to particularly enjoy dispensing the good chemicals, but maybe this monster transformation will wipe away a bit of the depression while it's up there giving me creepy urges to claw people apart. Honestly, wouldn't that be nice? This is probably just a temporary thing, though, so I resolve to enjoy it while it lasts.

My mom is already making breakfast when I head downstairs, and I ask for a bunch of eggs and sausage instead of pancakes, which she seems surprised by but accepts without comment. My father is nowhere to be seen, though, which is odd for a Sunday.

"Where's dad?" I ask.

"He has COVID, remember?" my mother chides. "He'll be staying home."

Oh. Oh right. I totally forgot about that, now I feel terrible. But… wait, wasn't she sharing a couch with him last night? Gah, she's going to infect my whole church, isn't she? I really, really hope she doesn't kill any of the old people that attend with us. Though honestly, most of the elderly at my church do actually wear masks, so maybe they'll be okay? My church was actually super cool about encouraging people to get vaccines, so props to them for that. It's a shame they're bigots!

I manage to get through breakfast without outing my freaky teeth or even having a conversation with my mother, which is more evidence that today is going to be an uncharacteristically good day. Eventually, my brother graces us with his presence, shoves some food down his throat, and all three of us waddle into the car and rush off to the stupid building that worships a fake diety like complete idiots. Guess what, losers? Religion is real, but yours isn't!

Heh. I wonder what would happen if I spoke a spell at church and got the actual Goddess to show up? She'd probably think it would be funny, which actually maybe isn't a good thing now that I'm considering it. Hmm. So, Teboho is totally right, I'm apparently favored by the Goddess. She even told me as much. So does that make me some kind of prophet? Gosh, I hope not. The Goddess is scary.

I'm still considering this when we pull into church and file into the main room, waiting for the old white guy behind the pulpit to teach us more nonsense. Today's sermon is apparently about Moses on Mt. Sinai, specifically the part where Moses asks to see Yahweh face-to-face. And Yahweh pretty much goes 'gosh, I mean, I really like you my guy, but if you actually do see my face you'll literally die. But tell you what: I'll head down there and turn around, and you can look at my butt if you wanna. Unlike my face, my posterior is not too powerful for mortals.'

Which, first of all: weak! If you were really as powerful as you say I bet that your divine bumcrack would smite people just as hard as your stupid gay-hating face. Second of all, this brings up so many questions about my personal divine experiences. I've never actually seen any part of the Goddess, despite how I tend to get impressions from Her that are best described with visual comparisons. As far as I know she doesn't even have a physical form. But what if she does? What if there is some physical representation of the Goddess? Would seeing it kill me? Would it drive me mad? Is there a way to miscast so hard that the Goddess appears personally to blast your brain out through your nostrils? I really, really don't want to find out. Honestly, it's kind of terrifying thinking about the fact that entire societies of people use spell incantations regularly. There's no way they all experience the Goddess in the same way I do, right? Sindri doesn't seem to notice Her at all.

…Hmm. When did I start mentally capitalizing the Goddess' pronouns? It just started to feel right after she nearly murdered me. That's… probably not healthy. Oh snickerdoodle this is so utterly terrifying, let's think about something else!

The hymns provide a welcome distraction as I finish quietly surviving through church because quietly surviving through church is one of my primary skills. I send Brendan a text or two from the safety of the bathroom but he unfortunately doesn't answer, likely due to being unconscious. Church service tends to end just after noon, which is not usually weekend Brendan hours.

That's okay. I lurk on Reddit for a bit, search for any crackpot sightings of weird monster girls staggering around last night on a whim, and relax a bit when I don't find anything. Eventually my bathroom safety time comes to a close and I have to pretend to care about all the people that would immediately try to "fix" me if they knew who I was for a while before the hell that is Church finally ends and our family Taco Bell run finally begins. Burritos are an interesting experience for me, because the cheese and meat tastes way better than it used to but the tortilla is no longer a flavorless filling dispensary service, it's actively kind of gross. I eat it all anyway, since the experience is still pretty decent overall. Hopefully it won't upset my stomach.

Other than the bit where I'm secretly hiding the fact that I have claws and chitin and a concerningly above-average number of limbs for a human (as opposed to a normally above-average number of limbs for a human), the day so far remains comfortably routine. I don't even really think about the fact that Sundays are usually streaming days; when we get home, I immediately go upstairs and start changing into a better outfit for streaming, fixing my makeup and triple-checking my setup for everything I need to do my second job. Hmm… what to play today? I finished Legends: Arceus last time so it's probably good to start something new. I'm tempted to start Pokémon: Uranium, I hear that fangame is super good, but I don't want to anger the Nintendo gods, or worse, the Nintendo legal team. You know what? Screw it. I've been saving a SoulSilver Nuzlocke for a rainy day and 'mutating into a horror monster and completely losing control over my life' sounds like primo rainy day material to me. I grin as I start the stream in the 'starting soon!' screen, watching my piddly little viewer count slowly tick upwards and happily absorbing the dopamine that my brain produces as a result. It's super nice to be liked, even in a weird parasocial way.

Alright. Check my camera, start my emulator, set up my display. Everything's in working order. It's go time.

"Welcome, everybody! We're in for a treat today, I think. I'm going to be Nuzlocking my favorite Pokémon game: SoulSilver version. You know the rules: one 'mon per route, if it faints it's dead, and we nickname them all so the death actually hurts. Let's go!"

There's not much to do in the early parts of a Pokémon game, so I mostly spend the time gushing about why SoulSilver is the best. As I name my character "DD," I bring up the obvious points like how it's the first game to implement universal follow Pokémon and, thanks to the fact that it's a sprite game, it's the first one to work without being ugly as sin. I'm not a fan of 3D Pokémon models and never have been, I feel like the game's developers just don't put enough work into them to make them anything other than awkward-looking. With sprites, you don't need to worry about that problem as much. Beautiful sprite animations are great, but simplistic sprite animations don't bother me the same way simplistic 3D animations do. The nature of a handheld game with a zoomed-out top-down camera like the old Pokémon titles means that the world design, map layout, and character sprites on the overworld are all very representative and simple. They're sixteen-by-sixteen or thirty-two-by-thirty-two pixel sprites, for crying out loud. They leave a lot to the imagination by necessity, and that works really well for Pokémon since the sheer number of the little buggers really is a workload issue. That strategy doesn't translate to 3D at all, though, and Game Freak didn't adapt. So yeah. I guess I have Opinions™. What's the point of being a professional streamer if I can't subject my audience to them?

[AllTricks]: hey DD what's with the mask

[SwalotRancher]: ya is this a bit

…I guess they care more about what I'm wearing today. Thankfully, I have a good answer.

"My dad caught COVID the other day," I explain. "I'm just trying to stay safe."

[Xenoversal]: oh shit I hope he's okay?

[Lucarivor29]: wait for real

[LavAbsol]: Stay safe, DD!

"Thanks guys," I smile under the mask. "He should be okay, he's not stuck in the hospital or anything."

[Lucarivor29]: alright well what's with the gloves tho

…Aw crap I don't have a good excuse for that one. I hesitate, pretending to be focused on the game to give myself time to think. I'm going to get outed someday, right? It's inevitable, and Brendan's plan for that eventuality is to out myself to as many people as possible in order to reduce the ability of magical spooks to disappear me. I'm definitely not prepared for that right now, especially not with my barely twenty-one subscribers, but this is my chance for that. I swallow and gather my courage.

"The gloves are very much a bit," I answer, doing everything in my power to keep my voice steady. "If I hit fifty subs I'll show you what's going on."

[PentUp]: oh shit hand pics!?!?

[SwalotRancher]: oh no DD is becoming an egirl

"It's not…! Oh my Goddess, it's not like that," I protest. "It's not gonna be creepy, it's gonna be cool. At least so long as you guys don't make it creepy!"

[ZirconCommando]: goti t. Operation: make it creepy is go.

[LavAbsol]: Don't break the rules. She'll ban you.

[Lucarivor29]: "Oh my goddess?"

[SwalotRancher]: more of the bit I guess?

"Uh, yeah," I confirm halfheartedly. "More of the bit."

[Xenoversal]: sus

Shut up, Xenoversal. You know nothing. Unless you're secretly Brendan, I still have no idea what his Twitch name is. Hoping my mask hides at least most of my blush, I return my attention to the game, where I'm using game clock and repel manipulation strategies to guarantee myself a Gastly from Sprout Tower. There's really no reason not to, since the alternative is Rattata. Though Rattata is surprisingly dangerous from levels sixteen to twenty or so just because it learns Hyper Fang, which is a base 80 power STAB move that hurts like a truck at low levels when everyone else's moves are barely half as good. Gastly, meanwhile, is comparatively kind of garbage at this stage of the game, but the ghost type is way better long-term. I successfully catch one by just tossing normal pokeballs without even attacking (Gastly's catch rate is 90 so it's better odds than risking a crit) and name her My Future. Get it? Because she's dead!

With the help of my Geodude (who I named Fratricide because I'm going to teach him Rock Smash to deal with Whitney) I easily destroy Falkner and clear the first gym without trouble. The waves of nostalgia radiating through my body as I play this game are soothing enough to get me into a pleasant zen state, not even the inherent danger to a challenge run that lets Pokémon die enough to break me out of it. Pokémon SoulSilver is one of those games I know basically everything there is to know about, and I very much enjoy describing my strategies and showing off as we make our way through the game. The chat seems to like it too! I even get two new subscribers! …Which is a lot for me, thank you very much. I hear if you average twenty viewers per stream you're in the top 1% of Twitch, so I guess I'm a prime roller (haha, Twitch joke). Fear me and the fifty-seven dollars and twenty-seven cents I'm due to make this month! …Gosh this train of thought is embarrassingly stupid, I'm going to change it now.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to a close, especially when they are my good things. Day passes to night and I start getting sleepy, which means I'll ruin my good stream if I keep going. It's important that the stream ends as well as it starts; that's what keeps people coming back. So I keep going until right before the next major fight and then announce the end of the stream, much to everyone's dismay. Sorry, chat! Cliffhangers improve retention, engagement, and overall enjoyment. I have no mercy for you.

With the stream off, I head to the bathroom to wash the makeup off my face, take a dump, and finally get in bed. No bones in my poop today! That's nice. That's just great. Always good to see. It doesn't take long after that for me to close my eyes and fall asleep.

My eyes are already open when I wake up, though it's somewhat disorienting to feel Kagiso poking and prodding them for the purpose of doing so. Having solid rather than squishy eyes is weird. I'm not quite sure how it works, but I suspect my depth perception and ability to focus on things would be absolutely awful if not for the fact that I can use my spatial sense to supplement that information on most things.

Kagiso is out of the bedroll and about to get in, since she had to slink out for middle watch. I regretfully exit, wiggling my body and stifling a yawn. Gosh, I can yawn now. How funky is that? It feels like I'm going to molt soon too, but my carapace hasn't quite fallen off yet so I successfully manage to scuttle out of the bedroll without leaving any body parts behind.

"Watch good," Kagiso says, and it's neat that I can mostly understand her now. I bob my body in confirmation and she gives me a pat before curling up and getting comfortable for sleep.

Welp. Time for a hopefully-boring watch of me trying not to have a panic attack every time I hear a noise. Though honestly, most of the noises nearby are made by Bulupunu. Tiny blasts of lightning sometimes spark out of his nose as he snores, the buzzing crackle punctuating through the quiet of night and scaring away nearly anything that gets close. It's a shame that Sindri never found a strong animal companion like this earlier. I'm sure he has his reasons, though.

Despite my brain's loud insistence that things are about to go very, very badly, they somehow don't and the sun eventually rises without incident. I scuttle into tents and start poking people awake, to a chorus of exhausted 'good mornings' and 'thank-yous.' Soon enough, camp is packed up, I'm back on Kagiso's head, and our journey resumes.

"Say speak opinion me vocal Hana," Teboho says, and it takes my brain a moment to rearrange all the grammar in my head and figure out that he's suggesting that the team speak out loud today rather than use the mental link to help me practice my language skills.

"That's a good idea," Sindri agrees (and it takes an equally long brain-twister for me to parse that one), "but Hana still needs the link so she can talk."

"Oh, true," Teboho concedes, and we quickly link up.

Also noteworthy is that you all pronounce my name weird when you say it out loud and I don't really like it, I comment, though it's mostly playful.

"Apologies!" Teboho answers immediately. "Though I'm not sure what to do about that… is it true you're growing—" …and then he says some gibberish word that I assume means 'lungs.'

Yeah, I have lungs now! I confirm. But no voicebox. Maybe later. Transmutation magic is super weird. I don't have much control over it.

"That's odd," Teboho muses. "It's rare for non-Chaos mages to have magic they can't consciously control."

Actually, I'm pretty sure it's because the spell that's changing me is Transmutation and Order. Spells can be more than one type at the same time, right?

"They can indeed," Teboho agrees. "And I think I see what you mean. The Order component makes the spell only go one way, rather than shifting back and forth between possible forms as Transmutation is naturally wont to do."

Sure, I guess? I hedge. You'd know more about that than I do. I just think it's both because it feels like both.

Sindri clears his throat and speaks next.

"Were you familiar with magic category—" he says a word I don't know "—before learning the Soul Sight spell?"

Sorry, am I familiar with what?

Qualia, Sindri says over the mental link. Were you familiar with magical qualia? As in, the unique feeling they each give off which makes them so easily recognizable and namable.

Oh, yeah, I confirm. Yeah, I kind of get the feeling of which kind of magic I'm using when I use it.

"Hmm. That doesn't happen to me," Sindri muses. "But I'm only naturalborn to one element."

"I get the same impressions as Hana," Teboho nods. "My different elements are different."

"Only have one, but Motion feels like Motion," Kagiso grunts. "Sindri just stupid."

He twitches a bit at that, and I can't help but do a little hissy giggle. Teboho, Sindri, and Bulupunu all flinch at the sound, though Kagiso just pats me on the head like I deserve a reward.

"Good Hana. Taunt fools. Kill enemies."

U-um. Thank you?

"Ahem. Well. Be that as it may," Sindri deflects, "we should make it to the city of Grawlaka just after noon. If you've never seen a dentron city before, Hana, I think it'll be quite the sight."

I look forward to it! I agree happily.

And I really do! Fantasy civilizations sound neat, and hopefully there won't be quite as much horrible murder going on there. Or well, at least not as much horrible murder that I have to personally participate in. The excitement is a bit intoxicating, so I spend a lot more time today scuttling around through forest branches and catching small critters for my seemingly-bottomless stomach to consume. There are some neat little flying-squirrel-like creatures, some pretty supersized butterflies, and even some freaky, many-tentacled tree octopuses, camouflage and all. They're all quite tasty, but the wormy, fuzzy little friend noodles remain my favorite snack.

With the delicious distractions of hunting occupying my morning, it doesn't take long until I notice the ground we're traveling on start to slowly slant steeper and steeper downwards, until eventually the ground is no longer at a safe angle to walk on. While Teboho, Kagiso and I can ignore this by sticking to the trees, Sindri has no such luck and so we need to backtrack a bit uphill—which is doable, because the slope is mostly parallel to our traveling direction. With the way the trees thin out, though, I bet it would be possible to reach the edge of the forest fairly easily, just by heading down the slope far enough that there's no longer any soil stuck to the mighty branch of the Tree of Souls. I resist the urge, though, and soon enough we find an entirely different edge to the forest, one that I didn't expect to witness: an absolutely massive set of stairs.

"We're here," Sindri announces. "Grawlaka Bridge is right ahead of us."

The stone stairs are carved and installed into the side of the branch, a huge sloped road that's gotta be at least a hundred feet across. A smattering of dentron travel up and down, and while we get a few weird looks when we step out of the forest looking like vagabonds, people seem to lose interest after a few seconds. We're just some weirdos, and weirdos are a dime a dozen. Ah, it's good to be back in civilization.

Up the stairs, there isn't much to see. At some point they stop needing to be stairs and presumably even out into a much more normal road, but there isn't really much to see in that direction. It's down the stairs that has the really gorgeous view.

I have been told that I live on a world tree. I have seen that I live on a world tree: whenever I go to the tops of the branches in the forest, I can spot the massive trunk rising up into the sky, vanishing into the foliage it supports. I can see the mighty branches twist out from the trunk, beautiful and enormous beyond comprehension. And that's the problem; it's beyond comprehension. It's similar to the awe of staring up at the night sky: gorgeous, humbling, and yet completely beyond my ability to truly fathom the scale of. The human (and hyperspider) mind can't deal with orders of magnitude all that well, and some of the scale is lost in translation just because I can't really contextualize it. There's no sense of scale.

As I watch people walk the staircase, walk down to the bottom of the staircase, and start crossing the massive stone road built utop the stem of a leaf, a leaf which grows out from the middle of our current branch, longer and thicker than the golden gate bridge, ultimately terminating in a massive, island-sized flat green platform on which a redwood-scale forest grows, I have the context for the scale. It's as breathtaking as the Goddess Herself.

Holy cannoli burrito and fries, I say, awe overtaking me.

"What?" Sindri and Teboho both ask.

I… it's just… woah! This is so huge and cool and crazy! There's a city over there!?

"There certainly is," Sindri confirms. "Most of the leaf is the city, in fact. It's the largest dentron state on the branch."

That's so cool!

Teboho chuckles.

"Just wait until we get there! The city has some wonderful sights once you're in it, as well!"

Yeah! Okay! Let's go let's go let's go!

Now this is the cool part of being in a fantasy world! Wow! I bound happily down onto the stairwell, skittering down the little wall between the forest and the start of the steps proper. Almost immediately, my chitinous bladed legs scrabble tractionlessly on the stone and I stumble, causing me to fall down the steps. I instinctively curl up into a ball, which only seems to make the problem worse as I start rolling, rolling, rolling down the staircase, clonking my noggin with each fall.

Ow! Ow! Ow! Somebody help!

Unfortunately, rather than run after me and pick me up like kind people would and should, my friends all immediately burst into laughter. Even Kagiso! Sweet, lovable Kagiso! How could you!?

Taunt fools! she mentally reminds me as she doubles over and snorts with glee.

Curse youuuu! I call after her as my spherical body continues to roll and bounce and smack into stairs for nearly twenty flights before I finally stop. Shakily extracting my legs from my core, I carefully, carefully stand up on the slippery stone, waiting for my friends to come pick me up while my body pulses with adrenaline. But for once, it's not bad adrenaline. I'm not really hurt, just… a bit sore and disoriented.

I'd like to be a hat again please, I whine, causing Kagiso to grin and bound over to pick me back up.

"Hat is friend," Kagiso declares happily, since 'hana' and 'hat' are the same dang word. She places me on her head where I hug her skull nice and tight. It's gonna be sad when I grow to be too big for this.

My friends catch up with us and we make our way down the stairs together, the giant green stem getting closer and closer until eventually we're on top of it, walking down startlingly even and well-maintained cobblestone streets. I wonder how they make these? Where do they get all the stone? Is it possible they just use Matter magic to conjure it up!? Oh gosh, that'd be so cool!

"Someone's excited," Teboho comments as I bounce around on top of Kagiso's head, angling my body in different ways so I can see all the sights.

I said it before and I'll say it again! I answer. You literally found me living under a rock! I've never seen anything this awesome before in my life!

At the far edge of the stem bridge are what looks like defensive emplacements: large stone walls that would box any invading force in from three different directions, forming a nearly impenetrable kill zone. The stone seems to crawl down the sides of the stem and somehow hug onto the nearly-vertical edges of the cylindrical ground, making it impossible to approach from any direction other than the front. Of course, there doesn't seem to be any sign of conflict, and the gates are wide open, with only a handful of guards manning the three-story walls and waiting in front of the city. The stone itself is pristine and beautiful granite, or at least something that looks like granite, with only the occasional patch of what looks like green moss. Though when we walk by a patch of green moss, Sindri scowls at it, points, and then Bulupunu blasts it with lightning, frying the stuff to a charred heap.

Woah! What the heck, Sindri? I ask. Was there something bad about that moss?

It's not moss, he answers. It's Stonerot. Terrible stuff.

Stonerot? I inquire.

"Stonerot," he repeats out loud, giving me the word for it in the dentron language. "It's more or less what it sounds like. Invasive, corrosive, dangerous. I assure you, no one will complain about me killing some."

Hmm. So it's like evil magical kudzu or something? Sounds terrible. We approach the gates and get stopped by the guards, but it looks like everyone gets stopped by the guards so I'm not super worried. Sure enough they're just looking for taxes, and since we aren't merchants and are obviously not here to sell goods they don't care a whole lot about us beyond recording our reason for entry, which is mostly just 'to sleep in a real bed for once.' We step past the gates and finally get to witness the city proper, the road shrinking down into a main thoroughfare lined on either side with countless merchants advertising their wares. Past them, the stem finally opens up into the leaf proper, and the stone road gives way to a massive forest of devourer trees that dwarfs the one we've been traveling through up until now. Some of the trunks have to be nearly a hundred feet in diameter, maybe more, and within them are carved-out homes and businesses, not just on the ground floor but all the way up the trunk. Dentron scamper easily up and down the natural multi-tiered structures, rushing straight up and down the bark without need for stairs or elevators. Huge bridges and large pulley structures do span the vast distances, but they seem to be exclusively used for freight and supplies, designed for workers moving heavy objects with carts and draft animals. The vast majority of individuals just climb, and there are certainly a lot of them. The city is incredibly busy, incredibly loud, incredibly chaotic, with people arguing, children playing, musicians performing, merchants haggling, and food sizzling as far as the eye can see. It's incredible.

"Say Hana, have you had your fill for impressive sights today, or do you have enough for one more?" Sindri asks.

There's more!? I ask. What else could there be?

"Well, we're away from the branch now, so we can see off the edge in the opposite direction. If we look down from here, I can show you my home. The Pillar should be easily visible."

Oooh! Yes yes yes! I bounce happily.

"Just be warned, Hana," Teboho says. "The Slaying Stone is not quite as beautiful a sight."

"Be glad I'm not patriotic enough to argue that," Sindri chuckles. "Come on, let's see if we can find a good view. Just be careful not to fall. You would, for obvious reasons, not survive."

We break off from the road and travel along the outside of the leaf, and it doesn't take long to find a lookout point. The dirt doesn't seem to stick well this close to the edge, so as we make our way off the beaten path, away from the trees and the city, we slide down a slope and end up on the actual skin of the leaf, all vibrant and waxy and green.

Hey, if there's forest growing on top of the leaf, how does the leaf itself get any sunlight? I ask.

"The leaves get sunlight mostly from below," Teboho explains. "When the sun dips underneath the branch."

…Oh holy crap that's right, I forgot about that. World trees are so cool, what the heck!

"Here, this looks like a good spot," Sindri announces, sidling very carefully to the bright green cliff face. "Come here, Hana."

I do so, although my method of doing so involves staying completely still as Kagiso does so instead. Sindri points down and I follow his finger past the branches below us, taking a moment to calm the pounding, horrifying vertigo of planetary-scale heights. Once I can focus, though, I see it. It's hard not to see it. The Pillar, or as the dentron call it, the Slaying Stone.

I think I know why it's called that, considering it's impaled straight through the trunk of the Mother Tree.

An impossibly giant cylinder of stone stretches out below us, far larger than any branch. Just over three-quarters the diameter of the trunk of the Tree of Souls, it's punched straight through the bark and wood like rebar tossed by a hurricane. Great waterfalls of sap gush out from the wound, coating the intersection point in an ocean of glistening, sticky syrup that reminds me altogether too much of blood. It seems the world tree hasn't taken this mortal wound lying down, however, as the Pillar is in fairly bad shape itself. Deep canyons of green run along the outside of the stone in fractal patterns, like an alien artifact pulsing with unnatural energy. The color is clearly out of place on the hard, inorganic exterior, and I can't help but notice it's the same color as what Sindri called "Stonerot."

…I… oh Goddess, I whisper over the link. This is horrible. When you said the World Tree is dying, I assumed it was because of the fire in the branches, not this!

"Oh, it's not even just this," Sindri sighs, his tone resigned. "Keep looking. Follow the trunk lower."

So I do. Beyond the Slaying Stone, below the great wound of dripping sap, the trunk continues lower. Down and down and down, where branches get less and less common as the tree is closer and closer to the ground. Though before I can see the ground, the tree seems to spread out into a strange set of wide, gnarled wooden roots, twisting and drooping like tired tentacles. From thick, snaking vlines to thin, almost web-like lines of lateral roots, they can't possibly be anything else. But they aren't planted in anything, they're just… floating in midair. The whole tree is suspended in a cloud-filled void, but it doesn't look like it's supposed to be. Clumps of brown dirt cling to the roots or float suspended around them, caught within the web of wood. The implication is both obvious and terrifying: the tree clearly used to be planted in something, but not anymore.

Something uprooted the entire world tree.