She paused, then offered, "We salvaged what we could. Technical manuals from disposal sites. Plus, you'd be surprised what people throw away." She adjusted a tool in her pack, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "Should we check out those upper ptforms next?"

  Alexander noted her deflection but didn't push further, making a mental note to revisit the topic ter.# Chapter 116: Organic Structures

  Alexander woke to sunlight filtering through the transparent sections of their tree dwelling, creating dappled patterns that shifted with the gentle sway of the branches. The living quarters had somehow adjusted overnight, the sleeping hollows molding more perfectly to their bodies than when they'd first arrived.

  "Anyone else notice the room changed while we slept?" Riva asked, stretching as she rolled out of her depression in the wood.

  "I did," Elijah said, already up and examining the walls. "It's like the tree is learning what we need."

  Lyra jumped down from her higher ptform with a soft thud, her pack already organized. "The cellur structure must respond to pressure and heat patterns. Pretty advanced design."

  After a quick breakfast of dried fruit and protein bars from their inventory, Alexander outlined the day's pn.

  "We need to understand how this pce works—not just for navigation, but for defense. Living structures mean different vulnerabilities."

  He turned to the vilge map they'd received yesterday, marking specific areas with a piece of charcoal. "Let's split up to cover more ground. Elijah, check out these healing centers—see what medicinal applications they've developed. Riva, test the durability of different bridges and ptforms. Lyra, you're with me—we'll talk to whoever designs these structures."

  Valeria stood silently by the entrance. Since their confrontation on Floor 7, she'd maintained her distance, observing but rarely participating.

  "I'll survey the perimeter," she said curtly.

  Alexander nodded, not bothering to argue. Better to know where she was than wonder.

  The morning air was cool and fragrant with the smell of living wood as Alexander and Lyra made their way toward the vilge center. Residents with bark-like patterns on their skin nodded greetings as they passed. Some were tending to new growth, applying strange pastes to branches that seemed to be in the early stages of forming dwellings.

  "Fascinating," Lyra murmured, stopping to watch a woman guiding a thin branch into a curved shape. "They're using growth hormones to direct the wood."

  "You can tell that just by looking?" Alexander asked, genuinely curious.

  Lyra hesitated, then shrugged. "The color change at the application point is pretty distinctive. Basic pnt biology."

  "Right," Alexander said, unconvinced. "Basic pnt biology that most people somehow miss."

  The vilge center was a massive ptform spanning the space between several enormous trees, bustling with activity. Alexander approached a man who appeared to be supervising the extension of a new ptform.

  "Excuse me," he called. "We're trying to learn more about how your vilge is constructed. Is there someone who could expin the techniques?"

  The man turned, revealing intricate tattoos of branch patterns running up his neck. "You're in luck! I'm Ferren, the Vilge Architect." He gestured to the work in progress. "Curious about our methods?"

  "Very," Lyra said, stepping forward with uncharacteristic eagerness. "Especially how you maintain structural integrity with living wood that continues to grow."

  Ferren's eyebrows rose, clearly not expecting such a technical question from a new arrival. "Well, that's the beauty of it. We don't fight the growth—we anticipate and incorporate it." He motioned for them to follow him to a partially formed ptform. "Come, I'll show you."

  For the next hour, Ferren led them through the vilge, expining the complex techniques used to create the living structures. Alexander watched with interest, but found himself increasingly distracted by Lyra's responses. She wasn't just following along—she was asking questions that made the architect look at her with growing respect.

  "So you're using differential growth rates to create natural tension supports?" she asked, pointing to a system of branches that served as the understructure for a major ptform.

  "Exactly!" Ferren excimed. "Most visitors don't grasp that concept so quickly. The varying growth rates create a self-reinforcing tension grid that actually gets stronger over time. We just have to guide the initial patterns."

  "And these junction points?" Lyra ran her hand over a spot where several branches had fused together. "You're encouraging cellur integration rather than just physical contact."

  "You have a good eye," Ferren said, examining her with newfound interest. "You have training in this field? Most new arrivals don't understand these concepts so quickly."

  Lyra shook her head quickly. "Just curious. We had to be resourceful with building materials where I'm from."

  Alexander caught the deflection but didn't comment. Instead, he asked Ferren about defensive capabilities. "How do these structures hold up under attack? Any weak points we should know about?"

  "The living wood is remarkably resilient," Ferren expined, knocking on a thick branch. "It self-heals minor damage and distributes stress load automatically. But there are vulnerable areas—particurly the newest growth points and water distribution nodes."

  He pointed to a system of channels running through the wood. "The heartwater system is both our greatest strength and vulnerability. Damage here can affect entire sections of the vilge."

  Lyra knelt to examine one of the channels more closely. "Fascinating. You're using the tree's natural vascur system but modifying the flow patterns. The pressure differential must be carefully reguted."

  Alexander squatted next to her, genuinely impressed. "How do you know all this stuff?" he asked quietly.

  She gnced at him, then back at the channel. "I read a lot."

  "In Sector 17?" he pressed gently. "Aren't technical resources pretty scarce in Unaligned territories?"

  By midday, they regrouped at a small dining ptform that extended from one of the main trunks. Elijah arrived with a small collection of leaves and bark samples, his eyes bright with excitement.

  "The medicine here is incredible," he told them, spreading his finds on the table. "They use the trees' own healing mechanisms to create remedies. This bark," he held up a reddish sample, "contains compounds that accelerate tissue regeneration. And these leaves can be brewed into a tea that reduces fever."

  "Did your... special hearing pick up anything useful?" Alexander asked carefully, aware of Valeria sitting at the edge of the ptform.

  Elijah shook his head slightly. "Just more crity near the oldest trees. The Elder Healer showed me some interesting meditation techniques, though."

  Riva joined them next, dumping her pack on the table with a satisfied grin. "The bridges are way stronger than they look. Even the oldest ones can hold at least four people. I've marked the weight limits on our maps." She pulled out the vilge map, now covered with annotations. "Also found some emergency routes that aren't on the original map—small maintenance bridges that could be useful in a pinch."

  "Good work," Alexander nodded, examining her notes.

  Valeria returned st, offering a brief report on the vilge perimeter—entry points, guard positions, and potential escape routes. Despite their strained retionship, Alexander couldn't fault her thoroughness.

  After lunch, they continued their exploration, this time focusing on the practical aspects of living in the tree vilge. Lyra worked with Riva to modify their climbing equipment for more efficient vertical movement, while Alexander studied the vilge's defensive systems—cleverly disguised guard posts and emergency response mechanisms.

  Late afternoon found them gathered around a half-formed dwelling where Ferren was demonstrating how new structures began. The architect pressed a paste onto a thick branch, then used small wooden guides to direct the initial growth pattern.

  "The key is patience," he expined. "We create the framework, but the tree does most of the work itself."

  "How long does it take?" Alexander asked, watching the process with fascination.

  "In the Game? A few days for basic structures, a couple of weeks for something complex," Ferren replied. "The accelerated growth algorithms make it manageable. In nature, this would take years."

  Lyra was examining the paste, rubbing it between her fingers and sniffing it. "Growth accelerants mixed with directional hormones," she murmured. "And something to prevent cellur wall hardening during the formation phase."

  Ferren looked at her with surprise. "That's... exactly right. How did you know the composition?"

  "Just a guess based on the effects," she said, wiping her fingers on her pants. Her eyes met Alexander's, and he saw the momentary uncertainty there—as if she'd revealed more than intended.

  As evening approached, they were invited to join a community meal on one of the rger ptforms. Long tables made from polished branches held an array of foods—many incorporating parts of the trees themselves. The vilgers were curious about the newcomers, asking questions about their journey through previous floors.

  Alexander kept his answers vague, a habit developed through seven floors of encounters, but found the vilgers surprisingly well-informed about the Game's mechanics. Many had been here for years, choosing to remain on Floor 8 rather than ascending further.

  "Why stay?" he asked an older woman who introduced herself as a weaver. "Isn't the point to climb as high as possible?"

  She ughed, the bark-like patterns on her skin crinkling. "Says who? We've created something beautiful here. Something sustainable. Not everyone sees the Game as just a dder to climb."

  Her words struck Alexander as profoundly sensible. He'd never considered the possibility of simply... stopping. Of finding a pce that worked and staying there. The concept felt both liberating and unsettling.

  As the meal concluded, Ferren approached their table with a gift—a set of specially designed climbing harnesses made from living wood fibers.

  "These will serve you well while you're here," he said, handing them to Alexander. "They're connected to the trees in a way your equipment isn't. You'll move more naturally with them."

  "That's incredibly generous," Alexander said, genuinely touched by the gesture. Equipment was valuable currency in the Game, and custom items even more so.

  Examining the harnesses back at their dwelling, Lyra ran her fingers over the intricate fiber patterns with obvious appreciation.

  "The craftsmanship is exceptional," she said. "Look at how they've woven these tension fibers to distribute weight dynamically."

  Alexander watched her analyze the equipment with practiced eyes. "You know," he said casually, "for someone from an Unaligned sector, you have an impressive grasp of advanced engineering concepts."

  Lyra's hands paused momentarily. "Survival teaches you a lot," she replied without looking up.

  "It must," he agreed, leaving it at that. For now.

  As night fell, the bioluminescent insects emerged once again, filling the vilge with their gentle glow. From their dwelling, they could see much of the settlement—bridges connecting distant trees, ptforms at various heights, all illuminated by the soft blue-green light.

  "It's easy to forget we're in the Game here," Elijah said softly, watching residents move along distant pathways. "It feels almost... peaceful."

  "Don't get too comfortable," Alexander reminded them, though without his usual edge. "We still have a byrinth to beat and a guardian to find and floors to climb."

  But as he settled into his sleeping hollow, which had grown even more comfortable since that morning, Alexander found himself wondering about the weaver's words. What if there was more to the Game than just ascending? What if some floors were worth staying on, at least for a while?

  The thought followed him into sleep, as the living tree adjusted around them, responding to their presence as if they belonged.