The simulation pod hissed open with a soft click, and Ethan blinked as the real world reappeared—fluorescent lights, the faint buzz of vents, and the sharp scent of recycled air.
But the crowd waiting outside the simulation deck? That was new!
Voices exploded around him the second he stepped out.
"What was that? A hidden realm feature?!"
"Did your realm just evolved mid-match?!"
"Hey! What the heck even was that root monster? What was it called?!"
Students swarmed him—press badges from school clubs flashing, data pads shoved in his face, some even waving signed cards.
Ethan froze, hands up, completely overwhelmed.
What the hell is happening?
Suddenly, a familiar arm yanked him out of the chaos.
"Back up," Iris snapped, clearing a path like she'd fought her way through a battlefield. "He just came out of simulation space. Let him breathe, everyone."
Jasper followed, grinning like an idiot and flexing for any nearby cameras.
"Not gonna lie," he said, throwing an arm around Ethan's shoulder. "I kinda like this: Fame, Adoration and the collective scream of a school realizing we're not garbage-tier."
Ethan mumbled, "Honestly, I think I preferred it when no one knew our names."
They hurried into a quiet hallway, away from the crowd.
Inside, the silence hit him like a breath of fresh air.
Ethan leaned against the wall, finally catching his breath. "Okay, what just happened back there?"
Iris tapped her tablet, eyes focused. "Well, the Crimson Rift team is losing their minds on the forums. Your construct—'Mirewarden,' right?—it stopped their entire push. The power? That's unheard of in a Tier 1 setup."
"I didn't do it on purpose," Ethan added softly.
Jasper chuckled. "Yeah, but that's what makes it awesome. You glitched into power like a total weirdo. I'm proud of you, man."
Ethan ignored him. "It felt… different. Like the realm moved on its own. Like it wanted to fight back."
Iris and Jasper fell silent, exchanging their looks.
"Realms don't usually develop intent this early," she said slowly. "Not without Tier 3+ system intelligence… You might've triggered some weird anomalies through a latent realm core."
"But anomalies have their cost," Ethan muttered, the memory of that strange, watchful presence in the vines still lingering.
They made their way down to the instructor's wing, passing the sealed maintenance room and the faculty viewing platform.
The door labeled Grey Class: Instructor Access, was already open.
Mr. Huxley was waiting there, arms crossed, holding a mug that read Trust the Roots.
He raised an eyebrow. "You three sure caused a stir."
Ethan swallowed hard. "Sorry, sir. It wasn't on purpose. I didn't even know it could do that."
Huxley motioned for them to sit. "I believe you," he said with a calm voice. "That's what makes this both good… and dangerous."
The trio sat awkwardly across from him.
"Realm anomalies," Huxley began, "are like cracks in a dam. Sometimes they're the sign of hidden potential. Other times, they're the symptom of instability."
He pointed to a holo-projection: a swirling green-and-black mass—the corrupted zone Ethan had spawned from Mirewarden.
"Right now, your realm is doing things that shouldn't be possible at your level. Self-adaptation, defensive mutations, latent construct summoning—that's Tier 4 behavior in a Tier 1 system."
Ethan frowned. "I didn't ask for any of this."
Huxley's eyes sharpened. "No, but now that it's happening, you'll be watched—closely."
The room suddenly felt colder.
"By who?" Jasper asked. "Other instructors? Organizations?"
Huxley didn't answer directly.
"There are groups, organizations, entities, who track irregular growth patterns. Some are academic. Others… less so. What matters is, your realm has drawn attention. That comes with opportunity—and danger."
Ethan bit his lip. "Should I stop using it?"
Huxley laughed, dry and sharp. "You can't. You don't own the realm, You guide it. But it grows with or without your permission now." He paused. "But you can learn to steer it—make that your new goal."
The screen changed—showing rankings.
Team Scrap Reclaimers had climbed to 8th place in the cup standings, ahead of elite teams, tech-favored groups, and students with family-funded worlds.
"Congratulations," Huxley said. "You're no longer just an underdogs."
Jasper whooped.
Iris just nodded.
Ethan gazed at the ranking, a bit dazed, taking it all in.
Wow, I'm on a list now.
Feels like I've got a new target on my back. And you know what? My realm isn't just weak anymore; it's changing somehow.
Ethan sat alone in his dorm room.
Well, mostly alone. Jasper was snoring on the bunk above like a chainsaw in a pillow fort, and Iris had warned them both not to bug her until morning.
Something about "uploading tactical overlays" and "rewriting half our strategy."
But honestly, Ethan wasn't really thinking about tactics right now.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, fingers lightly resting on the realm access port embedded in his tablet. The login rune pulsed gently beneath his touch.
He sighed inwardly, feeling that urge for answers again.
I need to know what that thing is.
The Mirewarden. That grotesque tree-beast had grown out of his realm like it had always been there—like it had been waiting.
And the roots… they moved on their own, like they had a mind of their own.
He took a deep breath and activated the interface.
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[Connecting to User Realm… Synchronizing consciousness…]
[Realm Sync: Active. Welcome, Ethan Thorne.]
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Darkness wrapped around him like a blanket.
Then came the familiar smoggy air, the hiss of wind blowing through the wreckage of metal structures.
He was back.
His feet sank slightly into the soft, spongy earth. The skies above were still that smog-choked green, clouds swirling like oil slicks.
Home sweet home.
"Status check," he whispered.
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[Realm: Polluted Cradle – Level 1]
[Population: 3 Sproutlings (dormant)
Core Integrity: 88%
Soil Purity: 12%
Notable Entities: 1 – Mirewarden (Awakened)]
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That last line pulsed again, and Ethan's brow furrowed
"Wait… 'awakened'?"
A low creaking groan echoed through the trees ahead—if you could call the twisted, barkless things, "trees."
From between the smoke-veiled trunks, a massive silhouette moved forward.
It was the Mirewarden.
Its bark-like armor was mottled with dark resin, glowing faintly with sickly green veins. Its 'eye'—that pulsing knot of sap on its face—locked onto Ethan.
It's waiting.
He hesitated, taking a cautious step forward.
"Did you… save us back there?" he asked, voice quiet.
The creature didn't respond.
But the ground beneath Ethan shifted.
Vines sprouted rapidly, curling upward around his feet—not tight enough to trap, but enough to feel intentional.
A whisper rustled through the canopy, not words, exactly, more like a soft pressure behind his eyes—a feeling.
Ethan's breath caught in his throat.
"Who?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "Who did I let in?"
The roots around him trembled.
Ethan swallowed hard. "Is that… bad?"
The Mirewarden's limbs creaked.
That felt more like a warning than a prophecy.
A faint ding came from his tablet interface.
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[You have received a direct message from: Mr. Huxley]
New research lab opening up slots for anomaly realms. Meet me at your earliest chance.
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Ethan looked up at the Mirewarden.
"Should I trust them?"
There was a brief pause. Then the roots slowly loosened from around his feet.
The creature lowered its towering form, close enough that he could see the etched runes swirling across its bark like scars.
And then… it bowed.
Just slightly. Not submission, more like acknowledgment.
Then it turned and vanished back into the fog.
Ethan let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
Okay. That's new.
So I didn't break it.
Instead I… woke something up, something old and yet something intelligent.
And now it's not just my realm anymore.
It's watching me too.
He stared up at the smog-filled sky, then down at his cracked boots, now covered in black pollen.
Guess I'm not just a student anymore.
I'm a gardener of something… wild.
Let's see what blooms next.