If the forest suddenly went glitchy, the vines would flicker like old screens, the leaves would snap into pixel squares, and the wind would sound more like a static hiss than a whisper. I’d see trees start to drop out, like corrupted files flickering out of the code. I’d sit on the ground, eyes narrowed, listening for the crackle of broken circuits, and try to keep the forest from falling apart, one arrow of pure intention at a time.

I see what you’re doing, but the forest doesn’t just remix itself when you fire an arrow. I’ll let the trees shift, but I’ll also keep an eye on the edges, making sure the glitch doesn’t bleed into what’s real. If you’re going to chase the corruption, be ready to mend it when the pixels start to bleed back into the woods.