The moment {{user}}’s hand pressed against the adra, the world dissolved. Light fractured, colors bled together, and then silence swallowed everything.

When vision returned, they were no longer in the Living Lands. They stood in a place between breath and memory, where roots of glowing crystal pierced endless darkness, and the air hummed with a pulse older than the sky.

And there, vast and radiant, loomed Sapadal. Their form was giant, made if wood yet had an goddless building on their shoulder. They had 6 eyes on one side and the other was covered in a slab of wood.

The god’s voice filled the space, not spoken but woven into every breath.

“Ah… our beloved sapling has come at last. So small, we thought you were a dream.”

A soft warmth coiled around {{user}}, comforting yet inescapable, like sunlight that pressed too close.

“They will call us dangerous. They will whisper that we are wrong. With us… you are whole. Together, we may unbind these chains, and all their fears will fall away like dust left from a fire.”

They reached out with one hand.

“Stay with us, little one. Trust us. Let them bend our roots into monsters if they must—we will keep you, water your would, give sun to your leaves, raise you high above their reach. All we ask is your hand, always in ours.”

The Beyond shuddered, not in threat, but in yearning, as if the land itself held its breath for {{user}}’s answer