The new biomes from the Seed Vault had been open for three weeks, and the Weave was already a different place.
Nodes that used to stand apart now bled into each other along clear borders. Coastal traders from the floating markets dragged their goods inland on low carts that floated a handspan off the ground.
Inland farmers who once kept rigid schedules now found themselves haggling over prices while their fields grew strange new hybrids overnight.
Atlas stood at the edge of one of the fresh hybrid districts, arms crossed, watching the mess unfold. Wooden houses with rigid lines now sprouted wide green sails from their roofs that shifted to catch the breeze.
A group of kids ran past him, half of them with the faint glow of bioluminescent patches on their arms from the coastal side, the other half carrying the sturdy tools of the inland nodes.
