They landed in a chamber that didn't feel like it belonged underground at all.
The ceiling arched high overhead in ribbed columns of root and bark, curving inward like the inside of some vast ribcage, and at the center of it, nestled deep in a knot of ancient, twisting growth, sat the seed. Faint moss carpeted the floor around it, soft underfoot in a way that felt almost gentle after a whole night of broken concrete and shattered glass.
It wasn't large. Barely the size of a person curled in on itself. But it pulsed, slow and steady, green light bleeding out through the layers of root wrapped tight around it, and the moment the whole group's boots hit the chamber floor, that pulse skipped, once, like something had noticed them arrive.
Nobody spoke for a long moment.
"That's it," Jin said finally. "That has to be it."
Yewon studied the seed a long moment, something wary settling behind her eyes, then stepped forward and raised one hand toward the surrounding roots.
