This entire planet was the mother of all cryptids. A sentient ecosystem? Vines that responded to thought? A jungle that played matchmaker between species? This was the story of a lifetime, and I was lying in it, quite literally.
I pulled my clothes back on and ran a hand through my tangled hair. “Phil?” I called softly, and immediately the familiar vine slithered over from where it had been politely hanging during our morning activities. “Want to show me around while the big guy’s gone?”
Phil curled around my wrist in what I’d come to recognize as agreement. He gave a gentle tug, leading me toward a part of the jungle I hadn’t explored yet—away from the pond, away from the path Lor usually took for his patrols.
“You’re not getting me in trouble, are you?” I asked, only half-joking. “Because I’m pretty sure Lor would tear down the forest if anything happened to me.”
Phil squeezed reassuringly. The jungle had secrets, but it didn’t seem to want to harm me. If anything, it felt...eager. Like it had been waiting for someone to ask the right questions.
So I asked them.
“How old are you?” I directed my question to the jungle at large as Phil guided me along a winding path where the moss glowed in subtle patterns beneath my feet. “Not you specifically, Phil. I mean the jungle consciousness. When did you first become aware?”
The answer didn’t come in words. Instead, images flashed behind my eyes—rapid, dream-like impressions of the jungle in different states. Younger. Smaller. Then growing, spreading, connecting. The sensation of many becoming one, of separateawareness coalescing into a singular entity. It was dizzying, overwhelming, but undeniably an answer.
“Wow,” I breathed, steadying myself against a tree trunk. “That’s...intense. Can all plants talk to each other like this where you come from?”
More impressions—negative this time. A feeling of uniqueness, of exceptionalism. This jungle was special, different from others.
“And Lor? How did he find you? Why do you trust him?”
The response was immediate and powerful—an impression of protection, of symbiosis. Lor had defended the jungle from something. Had proven himself an ally, not an exploiter. The feeling was tinged with something like affection, or perhaps respect.
Phil tugged me deeper, the path widening into a small clearing I hadn’t seen before. At its center stood what looked like a tree, but unlike any I’d seen so far. Its trunk was nearly transparent, revealing a complex network of glowing veins within—like the jungle’s circulatory system made visible.
“What is this place?” I whispered, approaching carefully.
The impressions that flooded my mind were harder to interpret—something about communication, connection, memory. The tree pulsed gently as I drew near, its rhythm matching my heartbeat.
Tentatively, I reached out and placed my palm against the translucent bark. The connection was immediate and overwhelming—not just impressions now, but knowledge. Information cascading into my mind faster than I could process it.
The jungle was old. Anciently old. And it had been invaded before—by things mechanical, by things biological, by things that sought to harness its power or destroy its consciousness. Lor’s people, the Legion, had protected it at one point,establishing outposts, creating gates for quick response. But then something had changed. The Legion had withdrawn. Only a skeleton crew on rotation.
And now there was a new threat. The fugitive Lor hunted wasn’t just a criminal—he represented something darker, something the jungle itself feared.
I pulled my hand away, gasping from the intensity of the download. “Holy shit,” I muttered, trying to make sense of the fragments I’d glimpsed.
Phil curled supportively around my shoulders, offering comfort. The other vines in the clearing swayed gently, as if waiting for my reaction.
“You’re showing me this for a reason,” I said slowly. “You want me to understand what’s happening here.”
Agreement pulsed through my connection with Phil.
“You think I can help somehow. Not just by being Lor’s...whatever I am to him. But by being me. Miri de Leon, cryptid investigator extraordinaire.”
The jungle didn’t exactly laugh, but I felt something like amusement ripple through the vines.
I turned in a slow circle, taking in the clearing with new eyes. “Okay,” I said decisively. “I’m in. Show me everything. If there’s a threat to you—to this world—I want to know what we’re dealing with.”
Because whatever fate had in store for me, I had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t just about finding a mate in a hot alien warrior. The jungle had called to me for a reason. The portal had opened for me for a reason.
Phil tugged me toward another path, this one glowing more intensely underfoot. I followed without hesitation, mind already racing with theories and questions.
I might be Lor’s kassari according to some cosmic dating app, but I was also a journalist with a nose for stories. And this one was just beginning to unfold.
The vines parted before me like a curtain, revealing yet another wonder I’d never seen before. I stepped forward eagerly, notebook already forming in my mind.
Because this—this strange, beautiful, dangerous jungle with its secrets and its sentience—this was the story I was born to tell.
