? ─── ?? ? ?? ─── ?

  The trunk of the World Tree embraced them like the womb of the world. Living bark radiated a soft light that flowed down the walls like warm blood in the veins of a titan. The air trembled with a low, nearly imperceptible song—it didn't ring in the ears but settled deep within the chest, forcing the heart to beat in unison with the tree.

  Beneath their feet lay a glade of silken grass, so green it seemed woven from life itself. Above it swayed flowers whose petals shimmered like the reflection of stars in a night lake. Low trees with translucent silver branches whispered something elusive, as if recognizing Violetta and her companions.

  In the center rose a temple—not built, but grown. Its walls, entwined with grapevines, pulsed like living tissue, while butterflies of pure energy hummed above the dome. Their wings left long, glowing trails in the air that vanished like sparks on the wind. Elven runes on the bark glowed gold, though many had faded—even this place had its age, its history, and its oblivion.

  The Primal Elder walked ahead, his robes rustling like leaves at the first breath of a storm. Violetta kept pace beside him, her moon-white hair swaying in a light magical breeze. Her violet eyes, wide with wonder and dread, drank in the surrounding beauty.

  Irellis, Brenn, Tillo, and Odd followed in silence. Even the Sphere, usually talkative with its data streams, was mute. Its blue glow flickered at a frequency that betrayed internal buffering—it was absorbing more data than it could process in real-time.

  "Here beats the heart of our world," the Elder spoke. His voice echoed like a distant bell over water. "Here sings the life we guard above all else."

  Before the temple entrance, Violetta stopped. Her heart hammered—the magic of the place resonated with her like the strings of a single instrument.

  "Why me?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Why must I be the one to see this, to carry this?"

  The Elder inclined his head, his eyes glowing with warm realization. "Because you are a child born of heaven and earth alike. Your arrival was no accident. But the answers you must unlock yourself. The forest only points the way."

  He made a gesture—living vines on the doors quivered, allowing Violetta through.

  At that exact moment, the Sphere flared sharply.

  [WARNING! ACTIVE LINK DETECTED WITH ASCARI EMPIRE TECHNOLOGY!] its voice strained with tension.

  The group froze. Irellis gripped her dagger hilts, her eyes narrowing like a predator’s. Brenn raised his axe, his gaze darting along the walls for any shadow of danger. Tillo clutched his staff with both hands, looking around nervously, while Odd stepped closer to Violetta, his fingers resting on his sword hilt—an instinctive oath of protection.

  Violetta touched the vines, and beneath her fingers felt a pulsing warmth—quiet, deep, as if she had placed her hand on a living heart. The vines receded, revealing doors of biometal: smooth, silver-bright, with patterns flowing over the surface like liquid mercury. They were identical to the capsule that had brought her into this world as an infant. Her breath caught in her throat as the doors slid open with a hollow, metallic groan, recognizing her touch.

  Behind them lay not a sanctuary, but the interior of a ship. Ancient, overgrown with moss and vines, but stubbornly alive. Walls covered in dim panels blinked with faint light; some flickered erratically, like a dying breath. The floor vibrated slightly, and in the center, on an altar of interlaced roots, she lay—the Ascari biologist from the dream.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Her snow-white hair with green-tinged tips fell in waves over a white lab coat. On her chest gleamed a badge—a DNA spiral entwined with a living branch. She looked flawless, a peace frozen in time, but the stillness struck the heart like a blow.

  Violetta approached. Her legs obeyed, but every step felt like walking on thin ice. The Sphere hummed, its voice deepening and accelerating with shock:

  [SCAN COMPLETE. SUBJECT DECEASED APPROXIMATELY SEVERAL MILLENNIA AGO. EXACT TIMESTAMP UNKNOWN. HER BODY... A LEGACY VERSION COMPARED TO YOURS, VIOLETTA. ATTIRE INDICATES HIGH RANK: BIOLOGIST. CAUSE OF DEATH... UNDETERMINED. INITIATING SUPPLEMENTARY ANALYSIS.]

  Violetta touched the biologist's cold palm—and in that instant, her consciousness exploded in white fire. A new record flooded her brain: the Ascari Genocode, like a key turning in a long-locked chest. She jerked her hand back, her breathing ragged. The Sphere shuddered, its radiance flashing in jagged pulses.

  [FRAGMENTED DATA LOG DETECTED,] it whispered. ["SHE GAVE EVERYTHING FOR THE SAKE OF LIFE." LIKELY DEATH BY SACRIFICE. HYPOTHESIS: SELF-SACRIFICE TO AVERT CATASTROPHE.]

  Violetta retreated, unable to look away from the lifeless figure. The words from her dream—“Life will sprout, sister”—thundered in her head, but the meaning remained elusive.

  Irellis stepped forward, her eyes tracing the ship's walls. "These symbols..." she whispered. "In my childhood, I saw similar ones in the old tales. About the one who came from the stars."

  Brenn touched the metal—his fingers slid over the cold surface. "This isn't a temple," he growled ominously. "It's a machine. A true star-machine from legends older than my people."

  Tillo, whose staff hummed in response to the invisible energy, leaned over the altar, eyes wide. "It... it's alive," he whispered. "The magic here is different. Deeper. Ancient."

  Odd stood slightly apart, like a shadow. His gaze fixed on the biologist's badge, his fingers clenching as if he recognized something he had no right to voice.

  Violetta turned to the Elder. Her voice came out firm but loaded with tension. "What does all this mean? Why did you bring me here? And why... why are you bowing?"

  The Elder bowed low, his robes whispering against the floor. Behind him, the other Elves descended: some with reverence, others with a hidden dread. A younger warrior hesitated longer, but even he bowed his head. The group stood in stunned silence. Irellis squeezed Violetta's hand, her fingers shaking.

  The Elder raised his head, his voice deep and heavy. "Thousands of years ago, she descended from the heavens. We called her the Life-Giver. She created the seed from which the World Tree sprouted and gave herself so that it might survive. I saw her when I was young. Her wisdom turned back the shadow that threatened the world. We built this temple to preserve the memory. And you... you are her heir, child of the heavens, one of those who came from the stars."

  Violetta’s heart constricted. Images of ships soaring over the world flashed in her mind: massive, like clouds of light. Elves called them angels; Dwarves and Humans called them gods; others called them demons. One of them had fallen on the day of her birth. And with it—her capsule. Was she part of that ark? And was the biologist truly her... sister?

  Irellis drew closer, her voice trembling. "You were always special... But you're still my Violetta. Right?"

  Violetta squeezed her fingers. "Always," she whispered.

  Brenn gave a heavy huff, resting a hand on his axe, but a warmth flickered in his eyes. "A goddess, then? Well, whatever they call you... I’m not bowing. But I’m with you. To the stars or to hell."

  Odd remained silent. His gaze, fixed on Violetta, was different—something new flickered there, fragile as the first dawn after a long night.

  Tillo couldn't help but exclaim, "It's just like the legends! You're really a child of the stars! But... it's a bit scary, isn't it?"

  The Elder straightened. "If you seek the truth, the path will be long. You must learn to command your power. For now—rest. The forest will watch over you."

  Violetta was left alone in her quarters. The Sphere hummed in her hands as if trying to soothe her. She sat, letting her thoughts ripple. She saw her adoptive parents: their gentle hands, the stories of "falling stars." Then—the dreams: the glowing cities of Ascari, the ship plunging into darkness, and the biologist's smile—tender, fragile as glass.

  “You will remember,” sounded from the depths of her memory, and Violetta felt something awakening in her soul—quiet, bright, and unknown.

  She closed her eyes. A tear rolled down her cheek. Who was she? An heir? A sister? Or something more?

  One thing was certain: the answers waited ahead—where the branches touch the stars.