{Two weeks later.}
***
A tense silence fills the room. On the smooth table surface, an ornate Seed lies unmoving. The many runes engraved in its hard shell are faded and dormant - but to the boy intently observing them, a different picture unfolds.
Phin gazes calmly at the Seed, maintaining his breath at a slow rate. It is a new technique he had discovered: a steady internal equilibrium will accelerate the Genetic Appraisal process.
C'mon... I am nothingness. My knowledge is nothingness. I am nothingness... he repeats his long-standing mantra in his head.
Suddenly, the runes fire up, shooting blue sparks. From within the Seed, the familiar blue ribbons slowly creep out - its genetic code. Phin smiles. Deploy interface. Upon his mental order, the ethereal threads condense into a floating panel:
[Pillbox: Capsulvenia mortifera]
| → Potential: (+) 10.22%
| → Encoding: ⊞⊐⊎◌⩀◬⊘⊏⊙⊓⊏◓θ⊕⊓⊬⊙
| → Greed Skill: [???]
| → Greed Mastery: [N/A]
'Got it.' Phin begins to jot down the results on a piece of paper.
'Congrats - that's your third Grade III today!' Amara beams from the other side of the table. 'You've certainly come a long way from blacking out from a Grade I.'
'Indeed; the young savant's knowledge acquisition rate is truly amazing.' Max strokes his chin, leaning back. 'It's a shame you'll be leaving soon, Phin. This process has been enjoyable.'
'Yeah...' Phin nods silently. Three days ago, word had arrived that Unit 00 would be going on an expedition into uncharted territories. We depart two days from now... he anxiously thinks. Captain Shirasagi and the others seem to believe in me, but I'm still immensely weak...
At a current Aptitude of 8.7, he is still much below average for a newbie. But they don't need me for my strength; my main job is a guide, he reminds himself. And I'm good at that. He dozes off, reciting all of the tips he'd learned in his mind.
Amara fidgets in her seat. She tentatively glances at the lost-in-thought Phin but diverts her gaze. As his childhood friend who had been only recently reunited, her worry is evident.
A knock on the door. The stern-faced Dr. Bouttens enters, flanked by two Botanists. 'Phin Ardelia. Unit 00 has requested your presence for a meeting.'
'Alright.' Ah - the practical survival meeting Captain Shirasagi told me about. I almost forgot. Phin waves goodbye to his friends and exits with the Botanists.
When they reach the Botanist Headquarters, the rest of Unit 00 are already sitting in chairs, chattering. 'Good to see you, Phin - we're just about to begin,' Willow notices his entrance. 'I have a feeling you'll enjoy this conference; despite it being very complex, it's mostly strategy-oriented.'
As everyone settles down, a hush falls over the room. 'Alright, today we're talking about environmental cognizance, which is especially important when we venture into new, unmarked territory,' Willow begins. 'Who has any thoughts to start us off?'
A middle-aged man raises his hand. 'We should always inspect the soil prior to entering. High-level areas are almost always a minefield of roots, and one unfortunate misstep can trigger the awakening of many Florae.'
'Good point. Do not assume this new zone is the same as the previous; underestimation can be fatal. Anyone else?'
'We need to constantly map out the Haze. Because it's a new zone, we don't know their migration patterns,' adds a woman with bright green hair.
'Indeed - we can't simply rely on existing maps. That's why we have Phin here -' Willow gestures towards him, '- to carry out documentation. He's been avid Flora scholar his entire life, so we can trust him.'
Phin takes the opportunity to raise his hand. 'Sorry, can I ask something?'
'Sure, go ahead.'
'How do we safely farm these new Florae for Seeds? We don't know their abilities.'
'Ah - good question. It's an unspoken part of our combat protocol, so it's not in the handbook you read. In situations like these, we first have to build a confident assessment of our surroundings - root scans, toxicity levels, details like that. Then, we can isolate Florae to kill one-by-one by 'boxing off' certain areas. This modular approach makes the farming process much safer.'
'Got it.' Phin is once again astounded by Willow's tactical clarity and poise, especially for her age.
The seminar carries on for another hour, filled with sharp insights and critical discussion. Phin, still jotting notes, glances up as Willow stands. The meeting is over.
'Thank you for your cooperation,' she begins. 'Take the following days to rest up and review our action protocol; we'll need everyone ready, as this is our most ambitious expedition yet.' She raises her fist. 'For the Fortress!'
The entire room thunders in return. 'For the Fortress!'
***
That night, Phin lies on his bed under the starry sky. Propped up on his pillow, he examines the contents of his notebook. It is a small leather-bound journal, a gift by the Regals. Inside, Phin had copied down the genetic code of all of his Appraised Florae.
The alien symbols seem to swim around the page, pulsating and twisting. Sensing a familiar headache creep in, he folds the notebook shut and sets it on the nightstand. It's so weird... A tingle runs through his body. I just can't focus on those symbols - it's as if my mind isn't letting me.
He yawns, stretching his arms outward. The onsets of muscle have begun to show, a product of his sustained diet and training routine. Man... I'm actually nervous as hell for the expedition. I don't know how I've been keeping it together these past couple of days.
Old memories of televised Botanist missions play back in his head. Through the fuzzy screen of his antiquated television, the lush wilderness would spill into the real world, immersing Phin in its exotic beauty. Old Appraiser Phin would sit on the edge of his bed, eagerly watching the Botanists conduct their methodical tasks.
However, after a certain distance from the Fortress, increased Haze concentration would interfere with the signal. There was also the occasional gory incident, though no Botanist has ever died on film.
Phin rolls over, burying his face in the pillow. I still can't believe this diet somehow fixed my eyesight... he ponders. I'll have to get used to life without glasses.
Shut up. I'm going to sleep.
The unknown voice, which Phin brushes off as a natural intrusive mental noise, had become a frequent visitor to his psyche. However, he has learned to suppress its influence and ignore it for the most part.
With a wave of his hand, the lights go dark, leaving him bathed in the soft moonlight.
Well... good night.