CHAPTER 54: The Fifty-Fourth Fracture

Alric sat by the lake, one knee pulled up, elbow resting on it. The water reflected the pale afternoon sky, soft ripples catching sunlight like scattered thoughts. A half-closed book lay beside him in the grass, forgotten for now. He picked up another small stone, rolled it between his fingers, and sent it skimming across the surface—three skips, then a quiet splash.

Footsteps approached behind him. He didn’t turn.

“Didn’t expect anyone out here,” he said flatly.

He glanced over his shoulder. Oizys stood a few feet back, arms crossed loosely, as if she wasn’t sure whether to leave or sit or vanish altogether.

“You… lost or something?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “I remembered this place. From your memory.”

“You read my mind?”

“No. But when we linked—back in the cafeteria—it echoed. This place. Your moment with Sukara.”

He nodded toward the grass beside him. “If you’re gonna stand there awkwardly, might as well sit.”

She sat beside him.

Oizys picked up a rock, mimicking what she saw him do. She tossed it. It plunked straight into the water.

“Try flatter stones,” he said.

“I’ve never skipped rocks before.”

“You’ve existed for eons. Never once did you go to a lake and skip rocks?”

“We don’t have lakes like these in the 10th fractal.”

“Can’t you just create one? I mean, you’re an all-powerful god. Can’t you just warp reality however you want?”

“Yeah, we can,” she said quietly. “But thinking of a peaceful lake isn’t exactly the first thing on my mind.”

A silence followed. Softer than the one before.

“Do you… hate me?” she asked.

“No. Why would I?”

“Because of what I used to be. More importantly, what I did to Sukara. I mean, you’re his friend, right?”

He leaned back on his hands. “Of course I’m a little mad. You took him back to his home world and made him suffer emotionally to the point where he broke.”

Oizys looked out at the lake. Her face dimmed.

“But,” Alric continued, “Sukara trusts you. He gave you a chance to live how you want. Free from everything. The ability to meet people. To form relationships. To learn. At first, I was pissed. But then I remembered—I used to be in your position. I bullied him. Made him feel unappreciated, unwelcome. And he still reached out. Still gave me a second chance.”

He looked at her.

“If I can be redeemed, so can anyone. If you ever need help around this place—or even want to understand how we ‘lower people’ work—I’m here.”

Oizys smiled.

Alric turned back to the lake.

“That’s the fourth time,” he said, skipping another stone.

She tilted her head. “What?”

“You’ve stared at me a couple times already. Maybe I’ve got something on my face.”

Oizys looked away quickly. Her lips twitched. “You’re strange.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Another pause.

“This world…” she said. “It’s loud. Full of things I never noticed. Emotions. Taste. Wind. Skipping stones.”

“That’s what makes it worth fighting for.”

“Will you show me more of it? This place. This academy.”

“You asking for a tour?”

“Yes. Not because I need one. Because I want one.”

Alric leaned back, arms behind his head. “Well, damn. A god just asked me out.”

“Out where?”

He laughed. “Never mind. Let’s start with the greenhouse. You’ll like the orchids.”

She stood. “Lead the way.”

And for the first time in a long, long while, she felt something close to anticipation.

The academy’s greenhouse stood at the edge of the east gardens, half-encased in living ivy and heat-treated glass that shimmered gold in the afternoon light. Steam clung to the panels in breath-like waves, the inside pulsing faintly with layered green.

Alric pushed open the creaking door. Warm, fragrant air spilled out—thick with chlorophyll, wet soil, and the faint floral tang of orchids in bloom. It hit Oizys like a wave.

She paused at the threshold.

The atmosphere was heavy—not oppressive, but alive. Dozens of exotic plants unfolded around them in all directions, spilling from tiered platforms, hanging baskets, and vine-laced arches. Some shimmered faintly with bio-luminescent veins; others curled lazily toward the filtered sunlight above, petals yawning like slow-breathing lungs.

“It’s… humid,” she said.

Alric snorted. “Welcome to plant heaven.”

He stepped in, leading her past rows of mossy stone pots and a low burbling fountain where translucent fish darted beneath water lilies that glowed faintly violet. Overhead, vines crawled along a wooden lattice ceiling, dangling tendrils tipped with tiny blue firefly-like bulbs.

Oizys followed, gaze flicking to every corner.

One flower caught her attention—a spindly stalk coiled tightly around a glass rod, its bud trembling. When she leaned closer, the petals opened suddenly with a soft pop, releasing a burst of iridescent spores that drifted upward like tiny stars.

She jerked back, startled. “It moved.”

Alric grinned. “Yeah. That one’s a stardust orchid. They only bloom when someone curious gets close.”

“I wasn’t trying to make it bloom.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

She looked again, this time slower. “This world keeps doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Responding.”

He blinked at her.

“Everything here has cause and effect,” she said quietly, fingers grazing a waxy green leaf with veins like lightning. “Touch. Smell. Light. Breath. I didn’t realize how reactive the lower layers were.”

Alric reached over and gently adjusted a leaf that had brushed against her shoulder. “That’s what living means. It’s not just existing—it’s responding back.”

She didn’t answer at first.

Instead, she wandered toward the far side of the greenhouse, where a wide viewing alcove opened into a terraced bed of glowing crimson flowers. Her reflection shimmered faintly in the glass—a pale figure surrounded by wild color.

“These ones are called fire blossoms,” Alric said, joining her. “They bloom brighter the closer you stand to someone you trust.”

Oizys glanced at him. “Do they?”

He pointed. The nearest blossom pulsed gently with warm orange light.

She stared at it. Then looked at him. “What happens to these flowers over time?”

“They wilt. Or a better way to say it they die.” He said looking at the flowers

Her expression didn’t change, but something in her posture shifted—like a thought had entered her that she didn’t quite know what to do with.

She stepped away from the window, past a plant with spiral-shaped petals that hummed softly when touched. One of them brushed her hand and let out a faint musical chime.

She startled again. “It sings?”

“Yeah. They’re tuned to react to bio-frequency shifts. That’s your energy it just harmonized with.”

“I’ve heard of music,” she murmured, “but this is the first time it’s been aimed at me.”

Alric didn’t say anything this time. He just watched her—really watched her—as she turned in slow, thoughtful circles, surrounded by green and color and sound. She was so out of place in this living world, and yet… not. She didn’t fight the life around her. She let it happen.

Eventually, Oizys stopped walking. She stood at the center of the greenhouse, bathed in golden steam and flowering light, and closed her eyes.

“I like this,” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

She opened her eyes. Red irises caught the light like twin burning stars.

“I think I understand why you fight so hard to protect it.”

Alric smiled faintly. “Told you you’d like the orchids.”

She didn’t smile back—but her gaze lingered on him for longer than before.