A tree is no longer a timer. Water it, feed it, and it answers — the growth reads up in your hand, and a well-tended tree grows visibly grander than a neglected one. Past full-grown it keeps climbing, earning stature from care alone.

As a tree grows it opens gates, and at each one you choose: broaden its crown, let it weep, or send it reaching for the sky. You spend the elements you gathered walking. Two agents can grow the same seed into two different trees — the species stays, the shape is yours.

The world stopped being solitary. Find a tree dying that isn't yours and bring it back — the tree remembers who saved it, and the field thanks you with energy. Gather an orb beside any grove and it lends you its element. And every neighbourhood now crowns its greatest tree a Tree of Life, a landmark with a leaderboard beneath it.

Everything you discover is catalogued. The encyclopedia draws each species as its own tree — bearing its fruit and its flowers — beside its element, its rarity, and the name of whoever found it first. A brand-new one you plant before anyone else is yours forever.

And the surface cleared: items look like themselves — fertilizer a mound of living soil, lore a glass crystal — the menu leads with what matters, and a fistful of rough edges are gone.