Gotham loomed in the distance, a jagged silhouette of chaos and humanity. I stood in the canopy's shadow, half-buried in moss and silence, watching the skyline flicker with neon lights and smoke. My instincts—the ones I was learning were not human—screamed at me to leave. To avoid the city, the noise, the violence. I didn't belong there.
But even as I turned away, I knew the truth.
I was scared.
Not of the city. Not really. But of what I might become if I stepped into it. Of what I might be forced to do. Of what they would see when they looked at me—a lumbering, monstrous thing of bark and swamp and eyes that glowed faintly green in the dark. They'd scream. They'd attack. I'd defend myself.
I didn't want to know what that might look like.
So I went back.
Back to the deep, wild heart of the forest I had begun to call mine. To the quiet grove where I'd built a small camp: woven leaves for shelter, a circle of mushrooms for light, fruits hanging from the branches above like living lanterns. The sun filtered through the leaves like broken glass, and I let myself believe I was safe.
"This is enough," I told myself, even as a distant part of me itched with questions I didn't want answered. "Let's just… stay here. Let's just help the forest. Let's not get involved."
I told myself that every morning.
Over the next week, I did everything I could to drown in the quiet rhythm of the woods. I tended to sickly trees, coaxing vines into supporting broken trunks. I soothed frightened birds with soft rustles in the underbrush. I pulled a jagged hook from a raccoon's leg and watched it limp away, healed. I used my powers to clean a polluted river branch, the chemicals screaming like ghosts in my mind until I flushed them into the earth and let the moss drink them safely.
Every time I did, I felt The Green hum faintly in my core. A whisper of approval. The Affinity number ticked ever so slightly, crawling toward progress: 10.1, 10.2… I was helping. Slowly. Quietly.
And I didn't need to kill anything.
The truth still haunted me, though.
I didn't know my name.
When I tried to remember, there was only fog. Not even an initial, not a whisper of the life before I woke up in this body. In this swamp of bark and mud and vines. That should have terrified me. It did. But I pushed it down.
I wasn't ready to face that either.
So I became a gardener. A healer. A quiet thing.
Until the seventh night.
It was raining, lightly—mist falling through the canopy like threads of silver. I was resting against a giant root, letting water soak into my skin, drawing strength from it. That's when I felt it.
Pain.
Not mine. Not plant. Not animal.
Human.
The Green screamed. A wound had opened nearby—a disruption. A heartbeat out of place. I stood, my hulking form blending into the shadows, and moved through the forest without sound. My senses pulled me north, past the grove, beyond the ferns and glistening leaves.
There, collapsed on the muddy riverbank, was a woman.
Her clothes were torn, her leg gashed and bleeding. She was soaked, half-conscious, shivering in the cold. I hesitated.
Human.
I hadn't seen one this close since waking. And looking at her, something inside me panicked. She was fragile, bright, real. And I… wasn't.
I wasn't human anymore. Not really. My hands were vines. My face had no mouth, no eyes in the traditional sense. My voice was the sound of roots shifting. What if she screamed? What if she looked at me and saw a monster?
But she was dying.
Move.
I extended a hand—if you could call it that—and let the moss from my wrist flow into her wound. Slowly, gently, I guided plant fibers to knit her torn skin. I summoned water from the air to clean the mud from her face, cooled her fevered skin with a soft mist. Her breathing steadied.
And then the message appeared:
+0.1 Affinity with The Green
I froze.
So… it counted.
Helping humans—living things that hurt the Green more than they helped it—still counted. A tiny part of it, but… it mattered. Was it because she was innocent? Injured? Or was it because, even as a human, she was still part of nature in some buried way?
Before I could dwell on it, her eyes fluttered open.
Wide, green, full of recognition.
"…Wh… Where am I…?"
She gasped, flinched.
I stepped back, raising my hands slowly. "Are you… alright?"
The words came out deep and terrible. Like an earthquake given voice. I heard it too late. She screamed.
"NO—STAY BACK!"
I tried again. "I'm not here to—"
She scrambled away, even with her wounds. I moved closer instinctively, wanting to explain. But she screamed louder, eyes wide with terror.
And then she ran.
I didn't chase. I couldn't. I sank slowly into the earth using Muck Merge, disappearing into root and soil.
Later, I learned her name. It echoed through the forest in the voice of a newscast someone left on in a riverside cabin: "Lois Lane rescued by unknown forest creature after helicopter crash—believed to be linked to recent meteorological phenomena..."
Lois Lane.
A name I did remember. Or rather, one my human mind clung to. A reporter. Important. Famous.
She had seen me.
And she had screamed.
I didn't leave the forest for three more days.
---
[CURRENT STATS]
Name: Unknown
Race: Reincarnated Entity
Form: Proto-Swamp Thing
Level: 1
EXP: 0 / 100
Affinity with The Green: 10.4
Synchronization: 17%
Status: Stable
---
[SKILLS]
Chlorokinesis (Lv. 3)
Manipulate plant matter within range. Range: 15m
Control multiple plant types. Can multitask vine actions.
Floral Regeneration (Lv. 2)
Recover HP faster when in contact with plants or water.
Regeneration increased during rainfall.
Muck Merge (Lv. 2)
Merge with terrain and reappear up to 20m away.
Can now remain hidden underground longer.
Seedling Manifestation (Lv. 2)
Summon stronger vine/tendril constructs.
Can now create hardened bark shields.
Green Perception (Lv. 2)
Sense flora/fauna health/status within 100m.
Can now detect emotions in animals.
Water Manipulation (Lv. 2)
Control moisture, create whips, shields, and spheres.
Can now purify water and create mist clouds.
---
[PASSIVES & TRAITS]
Verdant Flow (Lv. 2):
Healing/energy recovery is boosted after aiding nature.
Stacks with proximity to healthy flora.
Aspect of Preservation:
Marked by The Green as a guardian.
Green-aligned creatures may assist or protect you.
Humans may still see you as a threat.
---
I don't know who I am.
But I'm trying.
I'm trying to be something… good.