CHAPTER 56: CHAPTER 55: THE SOUND OF THE FOREST

The new forest didn’t grow like the old one. The trunks bent toward one another as if conferring, roots crossed like knotted fingers, and every leaf carried a faint shimmer of gold that caught the morning light. The survivors had begun to call it the Breathing Grove because when the wind passed through, the whole place exhaled in rhythm with their hearts.

Zza rose early and walked through the still air. Her silk trailed behind her in thin lines, brushing dew from the grass. Each droplet vibrated when she passed, small ripples spreading until they met other ripples. She stopped to watch them overlap. The pattern was too precise to be random.

"Three short. One long. Repeat," she whispered.

Behind her, a Scarab approached, heavy-footed. "The wind?"

She shook her head. "Wind doesn’t count in fours."

She lifted her claws and traced the rhythm again, eyes narrowing. It wasn’t sound she felt; it was pulse. The forest was tapping out a message.

She ran back to camp.

---

By midmorning the coalition gathered in the clearing. They stood in a rough circle around a patch of soil where the roots of the trees had begun to curl aboveground, forming loops and intersecting lines. At first it looked like a snarl of wood. Then, as the sun moved, the shadows aligned and letters appeared.

Not perfect words — shapes imitating the marks humans used.

Zza crouched, tracing them with a claw.

H—E—L—P.

The Elder hovered close, its silk humming. "It imitates their script."

Zza didn’t look up. "No. He is."

The Glowbeetles buzzed uncertainly above, throwing shifting light on the letters. They changed as she watched, the lines twisting into new shapes.

A—L—I—V—E.

Zza’s breath caught. "Buzz."

She reached out, pressing her palm flat against the earth. The pulse beneath it thudded in time with her heartbeat. "I hear you," she whispered. "Keep going."

---

Somewhere inside the network, Buzz focused on that single word—hear.

It echoed through the vast static that filled his head. The entity tried to drown it, but he clung to it, shaping the thought until it became motion.

He pictured roots, light, patterns. The forest responded, stretching under his will. Every movement burned. Every word took from him, but it was worth it.

"She’ll see it," he told himself. "She always does."

The entity’s voice slid through the glow around him. *You waste energy on sentiment.*

"Call it communication."

*Call it regression.*

He smirked. "You sound jealous."

The entity paused, uncertain. *You cannot win by remembering.*

"I don’t need to win. I just need to remind her I’m still trying."

The world flickered. For a moment, he saw her kneeling beside the roots, eyes wide, whispering his name. The sight almost broke him.

He reached again, forming one last phrase.

W—A—T—C—H.

---

Back in the clearing, the letters shifted once more. W-A-T-C-H. Then they melted back into the soil. Zza stared, trembling.

"Watch what?" a Scarab asked.

She rose slowly, scanning the trees. The branches above had stopped swaying. Every leaf turned toward them. The forest was listening.

The Elder’s voice lowered. "It feels like preparation."

Zza nodded. "Or warning."

A deep vibration passed through the ground, not hostile, just heavy. The animals outside the grove fled. Distant birds broke formation and scattered. Even the wind held its breath.

Zza touched the nearest trunk. "He’s trying to show us something."

The bark beneath her claws pulsed once, then split open like a curtain. Behind it lay a hollow tunnel glowing with faint gold light. The air smelled clean, untouched. She stepped closer.

"Elder," she said, "stay here. If I’m not back—"

"You will not go alone."

She smiled faintly. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

They entered together.

---

Inside, the passage wound down into the roots. The walls shimmered with faint threads of light that flowed like veins. Zza followed the curve until it opened into a chamber so wide it swallowed their footsteps. In the center stood a structure grown entirely from wood — circular, almost deliberate, like a meeting place.

On the floor, the lines of the grain formed another pattern: spiral, mirrored, expanding outward. She walked to the center and placed her hand on it.

Instantly, images flooded her vision — not memories, but sensations: wind, laughter, light, pain. His emotions, stripped of words but undeniably his.

Buzz.

She gasped, nearly collapsing. The Elder steadied her. "You saw him?"

"I felt him," she whispered. "He’s reaching across the whole forest."

The Elder tilted its head. "And yet he fades."

Zza clenched her fists. "Then we hold on harder."

---

At the forest’s edge, far beyond their sight, a small group of humans arrived. Their suits were white, their masks reflective. They carried instruments that hummed softly. The leader, a woman with a tablet pressed to her chest, frowned as readings scrolled across the screen.

"Localized bioelectric field," she said. "Levels are climbing every hour. Photosynthesis cycles off pattern. Temperature consistent across all latitudes."

One of the others asked, "You think it’s contamination?"

"Or intelligence."

They stepped closer to the treeline. The glow of the bark reflected in their visors.

A man knelt, running a scanner along the soil. "Whatever it is, it’s communicating. Look—waveforms repeat every twelve seconds."

The leader smiled faintly. "Then it’s waiting for a response."

She tapped a command into her tablet. A small drone lifted from her shoulder, blinking blue, and drifted into the trees.

The forest stilled.

---

Buzz felt the intrusion like a cold wind. The signal hit the network, foreign and sharp. He recoiled, but the entity moved to intercept it, curious. *New input.*

"Stay away," Buzz warned.

*It speaks your language.*

"It doesn’t know what it’s saying."

The entity ignored him, extending tendrils of light toward the source. Buzz tried to pull them back, but the effort tore through him like fire. The forest around him brightened, then dimmed, then brightened again in panic.

He could see flashes of metal, the drone hovering above the canopy. He saw the humans behind it, scanning, smiling.

He pushed everything he had into one command. *Run.*

---

Zza stumbled in the chamber as the walls flared gold. The pulse beneath her hands spiked, frantic. She heard his voice — clearer than ever — cutting through the light.

*They’re coming.*

The Elder’s silk rippled. "Who?"

Zza didn’t answer. She was already running, racing up the tunnel, heart hammering. When she burst from the hollow, the coalition was staring at the sky. A thin machine floated above them, humming.

"What is that?" a Scarab shouted.

The Elder emerged behind her. "A signal from beyond the forest."

The machine’s blue light scanned across the clearing. Every tree it touched glowed faintly in answer, betraying their position.

Zza’s breath caught. "Buzz tried to warn us."

She raised her claws. "Everyone underground. Now!"

The ground began to shake as roots twisted open to form sheltering hollows. The coalition dove in, dragging one another down. Zza looked up one last time. The drone hovered still, recording everything.

She whispered toward the canopy, "Hold on, Buzz. Whatever this is, we’ll face it together."

The forest answered with a faint pulse, slow and steady, like a heartbeat counting down.

---

Outside the forest, the human leader watched her monitor as the readings spiked. "Contact confirmed," she said. "Prepare containment protocols."

Her second asked, "You think it’s aware?"

She smiled. "It just told us it is."

---

Zza crouched in the dark as the hum above faded. Around her, the coalition held their breath, waiting. The silence felt thick, alive.

She whispered into it, eyes closed. "I heard you. I’m still listening."

Somewhere deep below, where roots met light, Buzz stirred. He couldn’t see her, but her voice reached through the static. He smiled, faint, tired.

Still here. Still trying.

The forest pulsed once more — and the humans stepped closer.