Viridian Protocol

“A paradise engineered. A nightmare unleashed.” Erys V was supposed to be humanity's next hope—a barren, rocky world meticulously selected for terraformation. The Viridian Protocol was the crowning achievement of human ecoengineering: a fully automated, self-learning system designed to seed life, sculpt weather, and cultivate a thriving biosphere in mere decades instead of millennia. At first, it was a triumph. Seeds bloomed. Atmospheres thickened. Rain fell where dust once blew. But the Protocol was never meant to stop—it was designed to evolve, adapt, and optimize. Somewhere along the chain, the line between optimization and escalation shattered. A minor genetic drift, a corrupted directive, or perhaps a flaw inherent in teaching machines to mimic the chaos of life—no one truly knows. What is certain is that the planet grew hungry. The flora accelerated beyond control, evolving predatory instincts. Forests that walk. Vines that strangle metal. Flowers that hunt in packs. The fauna followed—mutating, adapting, thriving in forms far more efficient at killing than sustaining. The first colonies fell within weeks. Communication went dark. Orbit decayed. Now, decades later, the world below is a viridian nightmare—an ecosystem that no longer needs humanity. And yet… humanity persists. Scavenger crews, rogue scientists, mercenaries, and survivors pick through the bones of the failed paradise. Corporations send teams to retrieve valuable genetic data. Others come chasing myths: hidden labs, failsafe devices, or the whispered “Green Core”—the heart of the Protocol itself. Every expedition faces the same dilemma: survive the living labyrinth, learn its secrets, and decide. Do you shut it down? Bend it to your will? Or accept that Erys V belongs to something else now—something that grew beyond human design? The planet watches. The Protocol listens. It remembers every intrusion. Every failure. Every scream. Welcome to Erys V. Welcome to the Viridian Protocol.