In the Mycelial Wastes, the darkness turned the area into a cathedral of light. The fungal towers glittered with green, blue, and purple light, their buzzing sounds merging to form a weird, changing tune. Leo Vance waited where he was instructed—next to a nerve-tree stump that was hit by lightning, right at the Nerve-Jungle's border.
A Naomi Frost scent-mark, conveyed by a spore-cluster, together with a simple symbol for meet now, had brought him here. He wasn't certain of this. It might as well be a Cult trap for sure. However, the network was full of strange, new pieces of information—a sharp, cutting pain from Sanctum that had turned into a cold, resolved pulse. Something was going on.
He saw two people walking toward him from the Ribcage area. One was going to be a very awkward tourist on soft ground kind of movement: Naomi Frost, in a dark, tough travel cloak. The other was a very smooth, predator-like, and slightly scary even in a Cult-made environment suit type of movement. A face was hidden by a helmet, but the stance was stiff, like the person was scrutinizing everything. A Carver.
Leo stepped out of the shadow, his bone-spear was aimed low, and he looked ready to attack. "Just love from the dinner table, huh? Far from home, food lovers."
Naomi was startled but remained calm. "Feeding is not our intention, Scout Vance. The purpose of our coming is to… work together. Here is Chief Carver Maxine Sharpe."
Maxine removed her helmet. Her face, lit by the glowing fungi, looked sleek, and her eyes had that strange, swirling gold. Leo's network-sense moved away quickly. She was not only from the blight-lands. She was a hybrid. Something had been mixed into her. She was both the infection and… something else completely.
"You are sensing the pain," said Leo with a tone of disgust.
"I am connected to the data stream," Maxine said. "It provided me with a fix. A solution to stop the Final Digestion without the collapse of the whole thing. It requires something that only your people can provide: pure, unadulterated mycelial good vibes. From a still-living tower, one that still sings the ancient songs of co-existence."
Leo gave out a short, harsh laugh. "The heart-song of my people is what you want me to give you so you can fix your broken machine? The machine that is killing our Host?"
"The machine is on its last breath," said Maxine, not being affected by his anger. "And if that's the case, it will kill your Host first, together with all the others. This turn is the only thing standing in the way of complete annihilation."
"What makes me trust you? You are one of them."
"Because I spoke with the Core Memory Lobe," said Maxine, and her words stopped the humming songs for a moment. "It's not an 'it.' It's the very last bit of 'I' in Aethelrex. It showed me the time. Eight days. It gave me the plan for the switch. It wants the suffering to stop. Don't you?"
Leo looked at her. He could sense the truth through the network. The deep, painful pulse of the Empty Plate was getting faster. The Host's cries were turning into a death rattle. And this Carver's new pulse… wasn't selfish. It had the taste of a surgeon's cold focus. A focus that was connected to the Host's desperate need.
He wasn't very happy about it but he asked, "What is this 'switch'?"
Maxine explained to him. The resonator, the catalyst, the silence-stone. The Sinoatrial Node, putting it all together.
"The heart…" mumbled Leo. "Your people guard it like their own life."
"We will need a diversion. A big one. Just at the moment we put it in."
A slow, serious smile spread Leo's face. "A distraction, you say? What about a complete meltdown?" He pointed towards the bright Symbiote homes in the far. "We have been getting ready. If we decide to go all-out on the Harvesting Frontiers, the Taste-Guard would be forced to react. It would pull defenses from the Heartforge."
"A fight like that would be a massacre," Naomi said, frightened.
"It would be a sacrifice," Leo said with a correction, his smile disappearing. "To save the Host. My people get sacrifice. It's not eating; it's being eaten for a reason. But we need a promise. Proof that your switch will do the job."
Maxine brought out a small, clear data-slice from a pocket of her suit. "The plan. Coded in a way your fungi networks can read. Check the good-vibe frequency yourself. It's made to match the Host's first, untroubled state—the one your oldest songs recall."
Leo took the slice with a hint of doubt. He set it on a nearby fungi node. The node lit up, taking in the data. The humming song around them changed, adding a new, old, peaceful melody he hadn't heard since he was a kid, hearing stories. A song of being complete.
The network was aware of and hopeful about this.
He turned to look at Maxine. His bad feelings were at odds with the song rushing through him. "The catalyst… requires a sacrifice of a tower. To extract the living heart-song, the tower has to be destroyed in the process."
Maxine agreed. "Understood."
Leo inhaled the spore-filled air. He was a scout, not a chief. But the network was speaking through him now. "I will escort you to the Heartwood Spire. And I will carry your plan to the Council of Tendrils. We'll…talk about the attack."
It was neither a yes nor a no.
The three of them stood in the illuminated dark, an unusual trio, united at the barren land's edge. A Carver, a Symbiote, and someone who turned on the Palate.
Above them, in the stone sky, the algal blooms were getting a bit dimmer. The long, fake day of Sanctum was coming to an end.
Seven days left.