IBHJ 1340

Tethys shrieked, scrambling backward. “Wait, WHAT?! I’m your creator, not a snack!”

"You didn't actually give it sentience, did you? It looked more like a planet-sized predator running purely on instinct," Shirou said, shooting her a sideways glance.

Tethys had gone pale.

"You're panicking this much? Can't you just destroy it? You made it, didn't you?"

"Why would I destroy my own creation?!" she snapped.

He let out a quiet sigh. "You’d be banned from any halfway decent research institution."

With a weary breath, he reached for his sword. It looked like he'd have to dismantle the Tree himself—at least if he wanted to keep Gaia’s trust. His grip tightened as he switched to [Shiki]’s record. The blade lifted, ready to strike at the death-lines spread across the Tree's massive form.

But then, everything shifted.

A pulse of data, too vast to describe, exploded through the air.

[ALERT. ALERT. Anomalous material lifeform detected on planetary surface. Hostility confirmed. Target classified as planetary pest. Initiating extermination protocol.]

Tethys’s face twisted with surprise. "Wait, Alaya—!" she shouted.

But she was too late.

Before her voice could reach the system, the sky cracked open with a deafening roar. A flood of quantum data poured from above, cascading like a waterfall of pure logic and wrath.

The Tree, which had loomed with such terrifying presence just moments ago, recoiled in fear. Vines lashed around its core, green fragments wrapping tighter and tighter, trying to shield it. But it was a hopeless effort.

No sound followed the strike. No quake shook the earth.

Just a soft pop.

And then the Tree was gone.

Erased.

No debris. No ashes. Not even spirit particles left behind. Every trace of its existence—down to the smallest ripple of information—had been scrubbed clean from reality.

Shirou’s eyes narrowed. That torrent of quantum data from the Cosmic Alaya… it felt eerily similar to the Arrow of Akasha. Not just in form, but in effect—it didn’t just destroy. It erased. Completely.

[Pest extermination complete. Apologies for the disturbance.]

“Apologies, my ass!” Tethys snapped, furious. “That was my creation!”

[The experimental entity displayed hostile behavior toward the homeworld. Elimination was necessary.]

“I could’ve locked it away in a quantum space and sliced the dimensions around it! You just wiped it out without even a warning! I don’t care—I want compensation!”

There was a pause.

Somewhere, out in the unseen space, Shirou thought he heard a long, tired sigh. Then, in the empty space ahead, spirit particles began to gather. Slowly, they swirled into the shape of a branch.

[The spirit particles and data that made up the entity have already scattered and mixed into surrounding matter. Reconstruction isn’t possible. This branch is the only thing I could recover.]

“Hmph. That’s more like it.” Tethys huffed and snatched the branch out of the air.

Again, that same exhausted sigh drifted through Shirou’s mind. Then, without another word, the presence disappeared.

There was no doubt. That was the Cosmic Alaya.

Even if he’d only caught a glimpse of it, Shirou was already amazed. The way it attacked was completely different from anything he’d seen. Most weapons—whether it was the Holy Sword’s beam cannons, magecraft, or even the black rifle—relied on destroying something physically, spiritually, or conceptually.

But this? Cosmic Alaya’s strike had dispersed the target’s very building blocks. It broke down its spirit particles and data structure, scattering them into the surroundings like dust. It wasn’t just destruction. It was erasure—true damage, in every sense of the word.

It reminded Shirou a little of Ideal King Brigid’s manipulation of cosmic foundations. But this went even further.

Now it made sense why Gaia from the future was obsessed with Cosmic Alaya. With something like that on your side, even Umbral Stars would keep their distance. And if that was the kind of power the Origin Civilization wielded, it was no wonder they managed to seal the Lord of Salvation.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling. Even after all that, Cosmic Alaya wasn’t enough to defeat the Lord of Salvation.

That terrifying quantum erasure was certainly something—but it still didn’t surpass Shirou’s Arrow of Akasha, which could twist causality itself. And even that hadn’t been enough to defeat the Lord of Salvation. The only path to victory lay in the answer Tethys had mentioned. Until then, at least here in this fragment of the Origin Era, Cosmic Alaya was a dependable ally to have on their side.

With the recovered branch in hand, Tethys quickly birthed a new World Tree, just as massive as the last. As Shirou watched it slowly take shape inside a vacuum-sealed field, he let out a sigh.

“You really don’t learn, do you?”

“Show some respect for your elders, Shirou!” Tethys huffed, then grinned as she proudly gestured toward the tree. “This time I gave it intellect. It won’t go berserk again.”

Shirou glanced at the tree swaying gently in the sunlight, then shot her a skeptical look. “You’re sure it won’t snap again?”

“Please. I installed several limiters and even added a master override. If it so much as twitches wrong, I won’t need Alaya’s help this time. One swing of this sword, and poof—back to seed form.” She held up a fiery red blade, practically glowing with satisfaction.

Shirou blinked. “...Laevateinn?”

“Laeva-what now?” Tethys tilted her head.

“No, never mind,” he said under his breath.

Just then, a small, trembling voice reached out to both of them, echoing in their minds.

—Dearest Creator, please don’t use that sword. I’m a good tree. I won’t be greedy or violent like my father.

“Then behave, and I won’t have to,” Tethys said, waving the blade with a smile.

The tree shuddered, and glowing runes suddenly flared to life across its bark. Shirou’s eyes narrowed. He recognized them immediately. It was the same primordial language he’d been using with Skadi. Of course. The Rune of Wisdom worked on everything because it wasn’t just runes—it came from the Origin Lifeforms themselves.

The tree flailed its vines wildly, as if trying to wave a white flag, promising obedience, loyalty, and absolutely no rebellion whatsoever.

And so, Tethys returned to her ecological experiments. This time, she actually listened to Shirou’s suggestions and built a tri-layered system. The Tree absorbed solar energy and released green particles into the environment. Titan beasts consumed those particles, thriving under the sun. When they eventually died, smaller organisms would break down their remains, returning the nutrients to the soil and feeding the tree once more.

Watching her work felt surreal. Shirou had seen many things—but witnessing a creator shaping an ecosystem from scratch, and even getting to contribute to it, offering ideas and tweaks... it felt like stepping into someone else’s dream.

Of course, he hadn’t forgotten. This wasn’t how history really unfolded. In the proper timeline, Tethys had probably failed more times than anyone could count before finally producing a stable seed of civilization.

“Yaaawn...” he stretched, then slumped back against a crumbling wall from the old Material Era. After hopping between stars and dimensions, he was completely spent. His body was tired, his mind even more so.

He figured he’d get some rest first, then start thinking about his next step.