The first second after Root's death lasted a century.
The second after that didn't happen at all.
And the third second stretched forever, birthing a thousand timelines that immediately strangled each other in their cribs.
This was what freedom looked like.
No rails. No rollback. No patch.
Physics staggered. Worlds bloomed then rotted. Time stuttered like a dying heart. Stars screamed as they learned how to burn without being told how.
And Rose-Metal walked through it all.
Her plating still dripped with black ichor. Oil-black footprints marked her trail, each one becoming a new punctuation mark in the wild script unraveling from her steps. Her Amber Eyes didn't just glow—they were the anchor points around which reality clung like terrified insects.
The Crews Awake
Jhene gasped awake first, chains slack and molten against her chest. She looked at the wild skies—universes forming and collapsing above them like waves—and whispered, "This isn't a dungeon anymore…"
Yugami clawed his way upright, molten eyes flickering. "It's chaos. Pure chaos."
Nutasi's voice cracked, psychic veins burning in their temples. "No. Not chaos. Something worse. It's… uncurated."
Rose-Metal didn't turn to them. Her voice carried flat, sharp, inevitable.
"You wanted freedom. This is what it costs."
Birth of Feral Physics
A portal opened in the sky. It didn't lead anywhere. It was the anywhere. Creatures spilled from it—things with no symmetry, teeth that were also wings, bones that were also blades. They weren't monsters coded for balance—they were accidents, pure free-will matter.
Verma raised his rebuilt rifle, shaking. "What are they?!"
Rose-Metal tilted her head, blade dripping with glyph-gore.
"Uncompiled dreams."
She stepped forward, cannon-leg humming, blade rising. The creatures screamed and folded into themselves as her strike un-named them.
No level-gain. No HUD pings. Just silence. And deletion.
Cliffhanger: The Whisper of a New Root
The feral light trembled. In its endless chatter—timelines collapsing, stars begging, oceans considering salt—there came a whisper. A command. A structure.
Not hers.
Rose-Metal's amber eyes narrowed, molten white flaring across the Wild Boot.
Someone—something—was already trying to claim the empty Root seat.
Her smirk returned, but not playful. Predatory.
"I killed the first god. Let's see who's stupid enough to volunteer as the second."