I can't quite grasp how long I've been awake. Time here seems to float, untethered, devoid of its usual anchors. Only the rhythmic pulses remain, marking moments and subtle shifts. Yet, deep within, something whispers to me: the light is waning.
It's not a visual cue—my sight still eludes me. It's more akin to a gentle warmth, like the soft caress of sunlight that once seeped through my being when I touched the earth. Now, that warmth is retreating, inch by inch, steadily and inevitably, prompting my system to stir with a quiet urgency.
⊹ SYSTEM NOTICE ⊹
Sunlight Level: Declining
Estimated Duration of Light Remaining: 02:03:47
Photosynthesis Efficiency: Dropping
Environmental Shift Detected: Nightfall Approaching
Entering Dormant State: Permissive
Passive Regeneration Enabled
Dormant?
Does that mean… sleep?
The word feels familiar.
Soft and heavy. Like a blanket woven from stillness.
I don't resist it.
Whatever this is—
it's not the cold oblivion I emerged from.
This is natural.
Slow.
Safe.
The warmth that once soaked my core thins to a thread.
But I still feel it.
And my root holds.
The world around me breathes softly. The soil is cool and textured, dotted with stones that press gently into my form. I curl my vine around one—its smooth surface grounding, its silence comforting. The scent of damp loam mingles with something green and tender. Moss? Maybe. I do not know for sure.
I let myself drift.
I don't dream.
But something moves within me.
A quiet recalibration, like cells realigning in the dark.
And then—
Light returns.
Not blazing.
Not sudden.
Just a shimmer across the edge of me.
Enough to pull me upward from the stillness.
I wake.
And the system greets me again.
⊹ SYSTEM UPDATE ⊹
Sunlight Detected
Dormant Phase Ended
Vital Sap Restored: +1
Photosynthesis Cycle: Complete
Passive EXP Accrued: +8 EXP
EXP?
That's new.
I don't know what it means exactly, but it tingles at the back of my mind like… like a number waiting to become something more.
More of me.
There are 24 hours in a day.
This… was just one cycle.
I pause.
Why do I know that?
I don't know what a "day" is.
I don't know why twenty-four feels right.
Or why I even know to wonder.
But I do.
And yet… I don't dig deeper.
Around me, the world stirs to life. The air is filled with subtle sounds: a rustle in the moss, the stretch of roots nearby, a hum that's more feeling than sound. The soil is not still. It is not dead.
It pulses with possibility.