The World State: The Lake Territory is no longer a forest; it is a rotting digital corpse. The sky is a flat, pulsing sheet of "Static-Red" that never changes. The trees have turned into jagged, bone-white pillars dripping with a thick, metallic "Blood-Sap" that sizzles when it touches the ground. The wind doesn't blow—it screams with the overlapping voices of every cat who has already been "deleted."