Rootworld is not a primitive civilization—it only appears so to outsiders who mistake living systems for simplicity.
Within the colossal planet Xylos lies a vast, intelligent biosphere: a subterranean world where biotechnology, magic, and ecological engineering have reached a level of refinement unmatched by surface civilizations. Cities are grown, not built. Power is cultivated, not extracted. Knowledge is encoded in spores, roots, crystal lattices, and living machines.
This is a society of Fauns and Floroids, the dominant peoples of Rootworld, who have shaped their world through millennia of symbiotic advancement. Their technology hums softly beneath petals and bark, hidden in plain sight—organic, adaptive, and terrifyingly advanced.
To the untrained eye, Rootworld looks ancient.
In truth, it is post-post-technological.
Rootworld spans immense bioluminescent caverns, fungal megaforests, floating ecosystems, mineral seas, and forbidden biomes sealed away by living defenses. Entire regions think, remember, and respond. The forest does not merely grow—it judges.
At the highest strata of the subterranean sky drifts the Aetherwhale’s Back, a colossal cybernetic leviathan bearing a floating ecosystem upon its white, living hull. It serves as both sanctuary and seat of higher learning.
Here stands Aetherwhale University, a prestigious institution where Fauns and Floroids study advanced technology, biotechnology, psychic systems, and ecological computation. Its halls are woven from luminous vines and crystal growths, threaded with intricate living machinery. Knowledge here is not archived—it evolves.
In contrast, deeper within Rootworld’s social veins lies indulgence and chance. The Lotus Bloom Casino glows with color and sound: lotus-etched halls, bio-engineered games of chance, psychic card tables, magical slot-machines, and extravagant game shows. Adventurers, merchants, scholars, and criminals all pass through its doors. In Rootworld, entertainment is also data—and data always has a purpose.
Above the living world lies the surface of Xylos: rolling silvery grasslands, monolithic humming stones, and the wreckage of alien ambition.
The Surface-Kin Colonists, survivors of a crashed advanced civilization, have begun to expand, explore, and extract—unaware that their technologies, waste, and probes are slowly poisoning the biosphere. What sustains them destabilizes the delicate intelligence of Rootworld.
They do not mean to destroy the planet.
That makes them more dangerous.
Alien probes now pierce deeper than ever before, exposing sealed regions and forbidden biomes long kept dormant for a reason.
Rootworld stands at a breaking point.
Protecting Rootworld from surface exploitation is no longer optional—it is survival.
Exploration of forbidden biomes reveals ancient failures, apex organisms, and truths best left buried.
Monster hunting is both necessity and ritual; the ecosystem breeds guardians, aberrations, and living weapons when balance is threatened.
Ecosystem reputation matters. The forest remembers your actions. Harm, greed, reverence, and sacrifice all leave scars—or blessings. Paths close. Predators learn your scent. Allies emerge from roots and shadow.
Players are not mere adventurers. They are variables in a living system—hunters, protectors, scholars, and catalysts whose choices reshape the world’s response to invasion.
Rootworld is not at war yet.
It is deciding.
Scans revealed vast caverns of chlorophyll-based life deeper than should be possible. Xylos is a subterranean Eden of bioluminescent forests and Floroid cities, now facing the light of alien probes from above.