In the glare, a shape that refused the light: bark black as coal, edges blurred by heat. A tree hiding in plain sight, cased in soot. Its roots threaded beneath the crust, thin as wires, feeding gas into hairline cracks. The vents bloomed blue where the roots breathed, then turned orange as the mix thickened.

"Found you." Adyr smiled at the source. "Cindervein Tree. Its roots release the gas from under the soil, and the fire is in its wake."

"Looking at the area its roots reach, it has to be more than 300 years, right?"

Adyr checked his memory on the Cindervein Tree. As this species ages, the trunk rarely exceeds 2 meters, but the roots keep stretching, claiming more ground. He had seen one at the market for 140 energy-value crystals, yet that specimen was only 10 years old; compared to that, this one could be the grandmother.

"It’s a very rare resource. At this age, its worth should be more than 500 energy-value crystals."

Satisfied, he began planning how to lift the tree without damaging the roots, since the roots were the key—the parts that vented the special gas and fed the ever-burning flames.

"Okay. I need professional help here and equipment." With that thought, he had his Earth Body call Henry Bates and asked to be directed to the relevant department chief.

"A floating islet in an endless void, burning nonstop because of a tree, and you want to uproot the tree and take it?" Henry’s voice spiked with disbelief. "Adyr, what are you even dealing with out there?"

Every time Adyr called with a request, it was another mind-bending problem that made Henry’s head throb and stretched his sense of logic.

"I will have the head researcher of ERRD (Exoecological Resource Recovery Department) and the deputy leader of SSD (Subsurface Studies Department) contact you."

Since the head researcher of SSD, Dr. Veyla, was already in the Beyond managing the crystal mine Adyr wanted to extract, Henry routed the request to the vice leader and initiated the contact.

"ERRD? Is that a new department? How many are there already?" Adyr chuckled, amused to see the Player Headquarters expanding day by day as new divisions came online.

"We’re just trying to make it complex enough to meet your crazy demands, so it’s normal." Henry laughed with him. "When you’re free, write a report. We’re all genuinely curious about what you’re experiencing out there." He then ended the call quickly so as not to waste Adyr’s time and routed the line to the contacts he’d promised.

"Hello, Mr. Adyr."

Two screens bloomed on his wrist device, each holding a researcher. Curiosity and excitement burned in their eyes; years of accumulated wisdom and experience showed in the white at their temples.

Adyr relayed the situation and his problem in minimal, clear terms, choosing only what mattered. Then he left space for them to think and offer a solution.

After a short silence, the ERRD lead leaned toward the lens, voice low and crisp. "Read the fire like a map, Mr. Adyr. Watch the heat shimmer and the tallest blue tongues with your eye. Mark their line with pebbles or a streak of charcoal. If the glare is too strong, lift a strip of damp cloth on a stick to break the flame face for a moment so you can see the roots’ pattern."

The SSD deputy raised a hand, tone respectful and focused. "With your permission, sir—pressure first. Locate the whitest-blue vent and collar it with something porous so the flow remains one-way. Ceramic, if available. If not, a drilled bone tube or a stone reed. Keep the breath rising."

ERRD’s mouth quirked, the hint of a smile. "Point taken, Deputy. And where is your head researcher when we discuss plant handling?"

SSD didn’t flinch. He gave a single, dry blink. "She’s managing a crystal mine in the Beyond. If you want her to speak, go bring her back."

"Fair," the ERRD head researcher conceded, finding nothing further to contest. He tipped his chin toward the feed. "Once the mouth is calm, please wrap the roots. Aerogel is ideal. If you lack it, pack ash into cloth sleeves. It must breathe, but it has to cushion shear."

"Anchor the slab before you touch the trunk," SSD added, still courteous. "Three points if you can. No mag clamps, then pitons. Keep your lift as vertical as possible. If the mat begins to twist, you stop."

A wireframe cradle sketch pinged onto Adyr’s wrist. ERRD tapped it. "Slide a cradle under the root bed. If you have no cradle, weave a sling from rope or vine and stiffen it with thin branches or spare blades."

SSD allowed himself a mild reminder. "Please do not ’tame’ the fire so much that it chokes. Keep a pilot at the mouth."

ERRD snorted. "In your last containment drill, you kept a flare on the vent throat for 4 hours."

"Within limits," SSD replied evenly. "Pressure held, and the Cindervein colony remained intact."

"For transport," SSD continued, tone even again, "keep oxygen low. A double tarp wetted with mud and ash will work. Leave a pencil-thin vent and keep a small flame at the outlet."

The ERRD lead’s expression softened a fraction. "Stay in voice with us, please. Call out flame height in hand spans and the color at the mouths—blue, white-blue, or orange—along with bark sheen and any change in root texture or smell. We will adjust your steps as you go."

SSD offered the final caution, steady and respectful. "Do not cut the primary seam, and do not fold roots sharply. If the vent surges, crack the sleeve a touch and let it breathe."

Adyr nodded as he listened to their explanations and the small, needless jabs between them, fixing each step in his mind. Then he shifted from theory to execution through the body he had in the Legacy Domain.

First, he asked them to compile the equipment list and transmit it to him. When it arrived, he went down to the Player Headquarters depot himself, pulled every item he could match, and dispatched the lot to his Sanctuary .

His other body received the shipment and started working.

He worked in their rhythm, not wasting motion: read the fire, collar the whitest-blue mouth, calm the pressure, wrap the roots, anchor the slab, slide the cradle, lift, and contain. When a tool was missing, he swapped in the field substitutes they had named.

He stayed on voice, calling out flame height in hand spans, the color at the mouths, bark sheen, and any change in root texture or smell. They adjusted the instructions in real time; he executed, step by precise step.

When he finally finished, his energy body hovered in Twilight Land , watching the Cindervein Tree settle into its new patch of ground. The root wraps held. The pilot flame breathed through the roots. The ring of soil glowed without sagging, heat shimmering steady and even.

He let out a long breath. "4 hours for a single extraction and planting. Without their guidance, I would have messed it up from the first step."

He was reminded, again, how valuable it was to have Earth’s brightest minds behind him.

***

A/N: I’m receiving so much support, and I’m really grateful for it. Please know that without readers (listeners), there would be no stories told, so everything we write here is for you. Thank you all.