The fungus sprawls in fractal tendrils, black as void, curling toward the fractured heart of Reactor Four. It pulses faintly, almost imperceptibly, as though breathing in the radiation that has poisoned this land. Here, where humans once trembled at the invisible death in the air, the organism thrives with an alien hunger.
Some visitors hover at the edge of the anomaly, their containment suits shimmering under pale floodlights. Instruments scream with data they don’t yet understand. The fungus consumes gamma radiation, metabolizing destruction into growth. A Geiger counter clicks faster when pointed toward its core, not from increased danger, but because the air itself seems to bleed silence. It is absorbing—pulling energy inward, devouring it like a black hole consumes light. They suspect it began as a mutation, some desperate adaptation of life in this graveyard of mistakes. But now it grows beyond anything earthly. Beneath its surface, microscopic tunnels form an intricate labyrinth, glowing faintly with something that isn’t light. Something far older, far deeper. One visitor steps closer, the air around the fungus tugging faintly at the protective suit, as if the organism senses the warmth of life. They hold a sample probe, trembling slightly, as they press it into the edge of the growth. The fungus reacts. Not with hostility, but curiosity. A ripple cascades outward, a wave of shadows folding and unfolding, as if the organism is…listening. -- HTTPS://THEVISITORS.JERON.ORG
_______________________________________________ NetBehaviour mailing list NetBehaviour@lists.netbehaviour.org https://lists.netbehaviour.org/mailman/listinfo/netbehaviour
