Chapter 72: Where Plants Pretend to Sleep
The ground changed first.
The texture.
The color.
The sound.
Less firm.
More moist.
More... attentive.
It was like stepping on a memory that was still fresh. The earth, once solid and compact, now gave way millimeters with each step, as if weighing Eren’s presence before accepting his weight. The friction between his boots and the ground no longer generated dust, but a muffled, soggy sound, too damp to be natural.
The hue also varied.
The dry brown of the forest became a dark, oily green, almost black in places. The tone did not seem to come from the mud—but from the things that lived in it. Thick moss covered exposed root plates, forming tortuous patterns, as if the earth itself had engraved symbols that only the ground could read.
And the sound...
The sound disappeared.