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Summer looked up at him, surprised. "Really?" She narrowed her eyes, clearly suspicious. "What\'s the catch?"

Don smirked, shaking his head. "Unlike you, I don\'t need to be blackmailed to be nice."

Summer\'s eyes flashed with irritation, and for a moment, it looked like she was about to tell him exactly where he could shove his chicken. But she caught herself just in time, remembering the deal they had made. Her jaw clenched as she forced herself to say the words, "Thank you," though it was clear it took every ounce of willpower not to bite back.

Don\'s smirk widened. "Good girl," he teased, reaching out to give her a condescending pat on the head.

Summer\'s response was immediate. She swatted his hand away with a huff, her frown deepening. "Don\'t push it," she muttered, before moving from the door. She opened it and gestured for him to leave. "You can go now."

Don chuckled as he made his way to the door, but as he passed her, he couldn\'t resist one last jab. "Is it because you don\'t want to miss your podcast?"

Summer\'s cheeks flamed red as she scowled at him. Before she could retort, she gave him a firm push, practically shoving him out of the room. "Goodnight, Donnie," she said sharply before shutting the door behind him, her voice full of embarrassment.

Don didn\'t resist and let himself be pushed out, grinning all the while. "Goodnight, Summer," he called out through the closed door. Then, remembering something, he added, "Oh, and Mom said to take the plates down when you\'re done. Thanks in advance for taking mine."

There was a moment of silence before the door flew open again, and Summer\'s voice followed him down the hallway. "Hey!" she yelled, her tone accusatory. "You only gave me your pieces because you don\'t want to take the plates, didn\'t you?"

Don paused by the door to his room and turned back to give her a nod, his expression utterly unapologetic. "That\'s exactly it," he replied with a grin. "Goodnight, Summer."

Before she could respond, he slipped into his room and closed the door, leaving Summer fuming on the other side. He could hear her frustrated "Hey!" through the door, but he simply chuckled to himself as he leaned back against it, feeling rather pleased with how things had gone.

"Not a bad start," he muttered to himself, stretching his arms overhead and letting out a satisfied sigh. The day had been productive, and he\'d managed to make some headway with Summer, despite the rocky moments.

But there was still work to be done. His mind drifted to Aunt Amanda. He hadn\'t spent much time with her yet, but he knew that building a connection with her was just as important. After all, she was a key figure in his new life, and having her on his side could make things a lot smoother.

Don suddenly remembered that he\'d gotten Amanda\'s number on his first day in the city when she\'d called to check on him. He\'d been so focused on the more complicated aspects of his plan that he\'d almost forgotten about the simple things.

"Guess I\'ve been overthinking things," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. He made a mental note to reach out to Amanda soon—maybe even set up a time to visit her farm. If nothing else, it would be a good opportunity to learn more about her and, perhaps, see if she had any other "special sauces" up her sleeve.

But that could wait. For now, Don walked over to his bed and sat down, feeling the weight of the day\'s events settle in. As much as he wanted to relax, he knew there was still something else he needed to do before calling it a night.

"Mental conditioning exercises," he reminded himself, the words slipping out in a quiet sigh. He had promised himself he\'d stay disciplined, and that meant training when possible, even when he was tired.

———

Meanwhile, in a dense and eerie forest on the outskirts of the city, a strange green glow pulsed from within a cave hidden among the twisted roots and old trees. The air was filled with a sense of foreboding, the silence broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant call of night creatures.

The entrance to the cave was almost entirely obscured by thick, overgrown vines that seemed to pulse with a life of their own, twisting and curling like the tendrils of some malevolent beast.

As one ventured deeper into the cave, the green glow grew brighter, revealing a labyrinthine network of tunnels that snaked and wound their way far beneath the earth. The walls of these tunnels were lined with more of the strange, living vines, their surfaces slick and pulsating, as if they were feeding off the very essence of the cave itself.

The air was damp and heavy, carrying with it the scent of earth, decay, and something far more sinister.

At the end of this winding maze stood a large, rusted door, its surface mottled with age and neglect. The door was marked with a strange emblem—a circle entwined with thorny vines, with a single, menacing eye at its center. The emblem seemed to stare into the soul of anyone who dared approach, a silent warning.

Beyond the door was a vast, primitive hall. The ceiling arched high above, supported by massive stone pillars wrapped in the same vine-like growths that covered the tunnel walls. The floor was rough and uneven, littered with the remnants of past gatherings—discarded bones, dried leaves, and the faint, lingering traces of rituals long since completed.

The hall was dimly lit by bright green flames that flickered in braziers positioned around the room, casting eerie, dancing shadows on the walls.

In the center of the hall stood a stony stage, elevated above the rest of the chamber. All attention was focused on this stage, where a gathering of Green Thorns stood in rapt attention, their eyes gleaming with fervor and anticipation.

This particular group of Green Thorns were motley, their clothes tattered and patched, their skin marred with the scars of battles fought in the name of their cause. They stood in silence, waiting, as the flames reflected off their wild eyes.

On the stage, a woman stood tall and commanding, her presence demanding the attention of every soul in the room. She was dressed in nun\'s robes, but these were no ordinary vestments.

The robes were adorned with thorns and vines, giving them a wild and untamed appearance. Her pale skin seemed to glow faintly in the green light, and her eyes were a startling shade of bright green, almost luminescent in the darkness.

Her face was dominated by a wide, unsettling smile that revealed too many teeth, but a smile that never reached her cold, calculating eyes.

This was Sister Rose, a figure both revered and feared among the Green Thorns.

She raised her hands high, her smile widening as she prepared to speak. Her voice, when it came, was clear and sharp, with a clipped, formal tone to it, giving her words an feeling of both authority and menace.

"A great tragedy hath befallen us this night," she began, her voice echoing through the hall, silencing the murmurs of the gathered crowd. "Our dearest brother, chosen by Mother Nature herself, hath been thwarted in his holy mission. A mission most sacred, to cleanse this world of its blight, to restore the purity that hath been so cruelly defiled."

The Green Thorns shifted uneasily, their eyes fixed on Sister Rose as she continued. Her tone was mournful, yet there was an undercurrent of barely restrained fury.

"But fret not, my brethren, for though our brother hath been hindered, his mission shall not falter. Nay, it shall flourish under mine own hand. For I, Sister Rose, am the vessel through which Mother Nature\'s will shall be fulfilled. And those who dare oppose us, who dare stand in the path of righteousness, shall perish.

They shall be returned to the earth from whence they came, their bodies naught but nourishment for the roots of the new world we shall bring forth."

Her words were met with murmurs of agreement, the Green Thorns nodding fervently. Sister Rose\'s smile grew, her eyes gleaming with a fanatical light.

"Green Justice!" she suddenly yelled, her voice rising to a fevered pitch.

"Green Justice!" the Green Thorns echoed, their voices rising in unison as they began to chant. The sound filled the hall, reverberating off the stone walls, growing louder and more fervent with each repetition.

"Green Justice! Green Justice! Green Justice!"