Sealed File: Dominion of Iron Roots

Compiled by: Elluin Hart, Field Scribe of the New Medical Library
Date: 113 SE, 11th Month, 4th Day

The worst thing about the Dominion? It doesn’t hate us. It has no anger. It simply wants to use us. It wants to grow us like crops — but not for food. For function.

It doesn’t move. It grows. That’s the part you people don’t get. War ends. Fire burns out. But roots? Roots wait.

We burn their roots, and the ground screams. Not in noise. In signal. Our comms don’t work for hours after.

A machine can rust. A root must be dug out or it will flower in your chest.

You can wall off an army. You can reason with a tyrant. But how do you stop something that’s already growing inside your water, your walls, your wounded? The Dominion doesn’t invade — it incubates.

 

The Dominion doesn’t build machines — it births them. Every vine, every spore, every limb of rusted bone and humming bark feels chosen. As if the world itself agreed to rise against us.