[Book One] Chapter 5 – Shoots and Shambles

[Author Note: What, another chapter? Yes-es, but also with a small message. I will regulary update a chapter for free on other platform to keep people coming to my patreon. But, I will start to pump more chapters into TREEvolution so that, like Seclusion, Patreons are always 5 chapters ahead from everyone else. So over the next two weeks, there will be a lot of extra chapters. Then it will go back to a regular schedule. PS: This chapter as a PDF you can downlaod.]

CW: The beginning might be a bit iffy or uncomfy for some reader, but it is there for a reason.

"Hellooo and goooood morning, everrryyone!"

The voice that rang through the abyss was totally not Iva’s.

"It's us again, Soil 2, your favorite evening show for plant-based journalism! Today's first news comes from a local seed who was indecently touched by a rather rude fellow. Let's give a warm welcome to I**!"

'audible applause'

"Okay, my dear I**, tell us—what happened?" asked the enthusiastic hostess of this totally real, absolutely prestigious show.

"By the way, we have distorted her voice to ensure the safety of her identity."

"I-I... I was just walking home... from the garden... after a long night... and out of nowhere—"

Iva choked back an imaginary sob, "An ant walked over to me and... and just... just..."

A dramatic pause.

"It touched my root and ran away!"

'audible gasping'

"I'm so sorry to hear this, I**. This must have been a terrible shock!"

"Sadly, my dear audience, I** is not the first young seed to suffer at the hands—legs—of this infamous root grabber."

"So, to help our seedlings out there, we went out ourselves and tried to catch the culprit."

"And guess what? We did!

"Now, please welcome the infamous ant as we give it a chance to explain itself!"

'enraged booing'

'totally not a dead ant body enters the show'

"Okay ***, we brought you here today to hear your side of the story.

"But let’s be honest, it’s not looking good for you.

"So? What do you have to say against these charges?"

'silence'

"Don't play dumb with me! Tell us—why are you doing idiotic shit like this?"

'deafening silence'

"So, you're saying... you were forced to do this?"

I** gasped dramatically.

"By someone who calls herself ‘Queen Ant’?"

'more silence'

"And she’s running a twisted, tyrannical empire?"

'audience gasps in shock'

"What a scandal! An absolute disgrace!"

The host that was totally not Iva leaned in closer.

"And what’s that? You’re threatening me now?"

Her grin stretched.

"You’re telling me that I’m next on her list?"

Her voice lowered.

"Ohhh, I’m so sorry to hear that... but you see—that won’t happen if I strike first."

"Muahahahahaha—!"

COUGH COUGH.

"Ahem. Anyway—send this dirty insect back where it belongs—underground!"

'agreeing shrieks'

"And with that, my dear audience, we turn to our weather segment!"

"Now, let's hear from our lovely colleague—Orbinia—who will tell us all about today’s forecast."

...

Silence.

...

"Oy, colleague?!"

Still nothing.

"Orbinia, it’s your turn!"

Another pause.

"Wait—what do you mean you don’t want to do this shit?"

"Hello, it’s for the audience, you know? Of course, they’re here! Can’t you see them?!"

"No? You’re saying they don’t exist?!"

Iva gasped, utterly scandalized.

"Just this one time, okay?"

“Oy, what do you mean this skit is utterly inappropriate and that I’m just masking my fear with something as horrible as how I feel, that it’s nothing more than a reflection of my shattered mind desperately grasping at humor because I’m not capable of properly facing my fears, that I can’t process them like a normal person, that instead I create an absurd scenario to force my reality into a comical context just so I can pretend to work through it while the truth is that I’m on the verge of breaking, clinging to this ridiculous farce because the alternative is being crushed under the suffocating weight of the realization that at any second I could die, that I could be trampled, reduced to nothing beneath the feet of something as insignificant as ants?!”

More silence.

"Pshaw, fine, don’t do it, bitch!"

She burst into fake tears.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

'Ding!' Congratulations! You have learned the General Skill [Acting].

Acting – Lv. 1
Congratulations! You’ve unlocked the ability to pretend. You are now slightly better at lying to yourself and others, masking emotions with the grace of a low-budget theater performer. Others might buy into your deception, but deep down, you’ll always know the truth.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"..."

Iva stared at the message.

Yay? Guess I really am just faking it.

She sighed internally, Not gonna lie, that was actually kind of fun… if only Orbinia wasn’t such a party pooper sometimes.

But she hadn’t done it for fun. She did it because she had to wait (and the other obvious reason).

Killing ants wasn’t difficult with Mana Shock, but waiting for her mana to refill was an entirely different kind of torture.

At least she had leveled up her skills and race a few times over the past ten days. Still, she hadn’t distributed any of her new stat points yet.

And then, of course—there was still the lingering plan.

Her original, unfulfilled desire—Insect genocide.

The thought clung to the edges of her mind, itching, gnawing, refusing to be forgotten.

She was restless, so she opened her status to distract herself.

___________________

[System Status Sheet]

Name: Iva White
Race: Awakened Weeping Willow Tree Seed [FEMALE]
Age: 63 days
Race Level: 2/20 → 5/20

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[State – Seed]

Root System: Level 1

 ● Available Roots: 0
  ◌ [Root Interface ▶] [System Message: Click to expand]

   ▶ [Expanded Root Interface]
    ● Active Slots: Free ×2 [Locked – No Root Available]
    ● Passive Slot: Mana Root (Tiny) – Lv. 1 à 2

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Seed Body: Level 1

 ● Active: Mana Shock – Lv. 1 → 3
 ● Active: Overgrowth – Lv. 1
 ● Passive: Manary – Lv. 1 → 2
 ● Passive: Free

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[Skills]

Origin Skills:
 ● Absorption – Lv. 1 → 2
 ● Auto-Growth – Lv. 1

General Skills:
 ● [NEW] Acting – Lv. 1
 ● Soul Tolerance – Lv. 1

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[Stats]

Remaining Points: 1 → 25

Health: 5/5 → 7
Energy Reserves: 46/55 → 70
Mana: 1/5 → 9
Mana Regen: [1/24h] → 2

___________________

The constant use of her skills had clearly led to acceptable development.

But… it still wasn’t enough.

After a long, grueling session of weighing the pros and cons, Iva came to a decision. She would use Overgrowth. Rather than wasting another four days waiting for her mana to refill, she would take the bold approach.

And so, she activated it.

Suddenly, everything exploded.

Her inner walls stretched—no, snapped, ruptured, and broke. Then healed. Then snapped again. Then healed again. Her roots twisted, cracked, reshaped, and reassembled over and over, like some deranged cosmic entity was playing an endless game of biological Jenga.

Ohhh, okay, that’s a lot. That’s a lot. TOO MUCH!

If she had lungs, she would have screamed. If she had a face, it would have twisted in agony. But she had neither—so all she could do was exist in excruciating horror. In human terms, it was like having every bone in your body broken, reshaped, and jammed back into place, in a loop of agony, without pause or mercy.

But at the same time, the sensations were overwhelming. She felt everything. Her roots dug deeper into the soil, spreading, expanding. Tiny branch-like structures emerged from them, weaving their way into the earth.

It was warm.

It was pleasant.

The soil gave way before her, like an old friend opening their arms in welcome. She felt like she was stretching after a long, deep slumber.

Then—

Something new happened. And for the first time, she witnessed it. A sealed part of her inner world creaked open, and with breathless amazement, she ‘watched’.

Her shoot finally emerged. It didn’t get very far, but—it was there. A single, fragile extension, reaching beyond the darkness.

Her mind reeled. And by the time she regained true comprehension of what had just happened, an entire day had already passed.

‘Ding!’ You are now suffering from [Mana Aridity] for 2 days.
Mana regeneration slowed by 95%. Skill usage now costs 70% more mana.

[System Message: Hope you didn’t need magic for anything important. Bad luck.]

'Ping!' A root has reached the minimum required size to be used in the Root System.

'Ping!' A root has reached the minimum required size to be used in the Root System.

Iva’s mind gleamed. Well, not at the first message—that one could go rot in a pit. But the other two?

Rooted perfection. Seeded in brilliance. Absolutely treemendous.

Yes, Yes, I know Orbinia. My puns are always on point~.

Finally, she had more usable roots. She was about to crack open the Root System.

…Or so she thought. But no further messages appeared. No new skills to learn. No options to choose from.

Wait—what? That’s it?

Her excitement dimmed. Did she need to meet some requirements? Was it locked behind a level? Did her stats need to reach certain thresholds? She pondered.

Then, she went back to reread the first notification. Overgrowth is… problematic. And also stupidly OP. She hadn’t expected it to have such drastic side effects.

Right now, the debuff wasn’t unbearable. But in the future…?

Once she reached the surface, she might have to fight to survive. And if [Mana Aridity] kicked in during a crucial moment, it could quite literally kill her.

A truly terrifying thought.

So, she made a mental note:

“Only use Overgrowth in the early stages or when I have a way to protect myself—even if I’m out of mana.”

With that settled, she moved on to more pressing matters.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[Stats]

Remaining Points 0

Vitality: 2 → 5
Endurance: 3 → 5
Strength: [Locked]
Dexterity: [Locked]
Flexibility: [Locked – Seed Form]
Root Flexibility: 2 → 15
Intelligence: 3 → 5
Wisdom: 10 → 11
Growth: -2 [Locked]
Root Growth: 4 → 5
Root Spreadability: 2 → 5

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Iva gave every stat a few points this time, but she went all out on Flexibility. One might question the logic behind that decision, but to her, it made perfect sense—she wanted to move her roots. As she understood it, this stat dictated how maneuverable they were overall, how easily they could bend, how far they could twist. It was all very theoretical.

But the truth? The real reason?

Her mind had flashed back to those fantasy movies from her old world—the ones where magical trees stomped across the battlefield, swinging roots like whips, fighting (not orcs of course) evil with bark and brawn.

Yes, she simply thought it was a great idea. Iva was so sapling-brained.

Orbinia we should return to our cool show an—

‘Ding!’ Your roots are truly flexible! Due to this, you have learned [Domination Root].

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Active Root: [Domination Root (Small) – Lv. 1]
Congratulations! You now have a root that actually listens to you—like a very obedient but mildly concerning pet. This one isn’t here for soaking up water or looking pretty. No, this is the undertaker of roots. It moves, it crushes, it slices, and with a bit of finesse, it might just make you feel less like a helpless seed stuck in the dirt. And as perfect it is for killing, it is also for interacting with you environment. You can move objects and even build things if you are skillful enough. Not that you probably are.

[System Message: This root uses ‘Energy’ or ‘Mana’ to move around. While using energy, your attacks scale with 'Strength', 'Dexterity' and 'Endurance' while it scales with 'Intelligence' , 'Wisdom' , and 'Endurance' when you use mana. Remember that, I won’t repeat it.]

Constantly consumes a certain amount of your mana for its own growth. This effect can be toggled ON or OFF. (Cooldown: 2 weeks)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

‘Ding!’ Due to learning [Domination Root], the stats [Strength] and [Dexterity] are now unlocked.

I-it worked? It worked, it worked! I did it! I did it! And it unlocked two new stats too!

Even if she had no clue what the scaling stuff meant yet, she didn’t care. She could actually attack now!

Sure, when Iva looked at the detailed resource costs, the looked pretty high, but she hoped those would improve with level-ups.

So… what next?

Her energy reserves were still her lifeline, and there was no way she’d risk draining them yet. Not until they were high enough to sustain this root for extended use.

Which meant—

Waiting for mana. Again. With a debuff on it. Greaaat.

She wasn’t exactly thrilled at the thought of waiting again, but after sixty-four days, what were a few more? And then—then she would finally begin her war against the insects, level up like hell, and maybe even evolve into something cool. Something that could walk. Or talk. Or feel… human again. Oh, how she missed it. At least she thought she did. Iva was actually unsure.

That was the part that stuck with her. Did she want to become something like a human again? She had thought about it for a while now, and still hadn’t decided. Iva assumed she was supposed to want that—it made sense. She had lived as one before, after all.

But had she really? ‘Marco’ had existed, yes. But Marco had been bound. Shackled. Small. His father an endless cruel warden, so Iva wasn’t sure if he had ever lived. The only person that flashed from time to time into her mind that made Marco’s life worth living was Lissie, his best friend.

But Iva had no one like her in this world. So yes, the question remained unanswered. But Iva was sure she’d figure it out eventually.

But not today.

Today, it was time for another episode of Soil 2.

___________________

Deep, deep underground, far beneath Iva, a queen brooded.

Her body, vast and pale, twitched with constant pheromone-laced intent as she sat amidst the hum of a living empire. Millions of her children crawled through endless tunnels, each connected to her thoughts, each a flicker of will in the chorus of the hive. The walls pulsed with the rhythm of labor, instinct, and perfect order—an empire not of individuals, but of purpose. She was pleased. Her colony had grown faster than anticipated, efficient and obedient. Soon, it would be mighty enough to push upwards and reclaim the surface.

She remembered it well—the surface. The hill. The fire. The two-legged monsters that descended with stone and smoke and poison, slaughtering all they found. She was still young then, barely more than a larva with a crown, too small and insignificant to be seen.

But she survived. She ran. She dug deep. And in the suffocating dark of the earth’s bowels, she built. And bred. And waited. And prayed.

Now, she was no longer weak. Her children numbered in the ten thousands, and her tunnels stretched far and wide, deeper than any predator could follow and closer to the surface than any would expect. She would not wait much longer. The time of reclamation would come and she would have her revenge. Yes, she would kill those two-legged monsters that killed her mother and sisters. She would consume them and laugh on their corpses.

And yet, something disturbed her.

Recently, a few of her smallest children—scouts, diggers—had not returned. The ones sent to explore the uppermost layers of her territory had vanished. She had expected roots, seeds, worms, maybe a fungus or two. So nothing that should have resisted her will. Nothing that should have taken lives.

And yet they were gone. No signals. No returns. Only husks. At first, she had dismissed it. Accidents, perhaps. Collapsed tunnels. Natural hazards. But more followed, and they too disappeared.

The song of the hive faltered, just slightly, like a chord held too long on a dying breath. Something was up there. Something that defied understanding. No hive. No predator. No two-legged creature. Yes, it was no known threat. Just silence. And death.

Her antennae twitched in thought. If there was something in her tunnels—something unknown and hostile—it had to be eradicated. So she summoned a cluster of young warriors. Fresh. Fierce. Hungry for purpose and show their worth to their queen. She poured her will into them, shaping their intent like wax under pressure. Ascend. Seek. Eliminate.

And as they marched upward, she watched through their eyes. Waited. Not in fear—but in certainty. She would not lose again. Not to fire. Not to roots. Not to anything.

Not this time.