Green.
After some time, Richard's vision returned to normal, and he saw a lush expanse of green—a dense, vibrant green.
The pale blue Round Mirror-shaped portal vanished behind him, and he appeared in a dense forest.
Looking around, he saw towering trees filling his view, each dozens or nearly a hundred meters tall. They thrust toward the sky as if competing for sunlight, while spreading their branches in every direction to seize the living space of other trees.
Looking down, he saw carpet-like grass nearby, stretches of shrubs farther away, moss growing in the corners, and vines wrapped around tree trunks, striving to climb upward.
It gave off a feeling of thriving vitality, yet for some reason, Richard keenly sensed a trace of decay within that vitality.
The air was filled with a faint damp, rotten smell, coming from the accumulation of dead branches and fallen leaves. They lay thick across the ground, making every step feel soft, as though walking on cotton.
"Rustle, rustle, rustle..."
Richard walked among the trees, carefully observing everything and trying to gather as much information as possible about this unfamiliar plane.
Was this the heart of a vast forest on an unfamiliar plane? Or had the forest already covered the entire unfamiliar plane?
Logically speaking, if a plane possessed sufficiently high productivity, its forested area would be relatively small, because its intelligent lifeforms would need more space for production and development, driving them to clear the forests. Conversely, if a plane's productivity was sufficiently low, or if it had once been high but suffered some kind of blow, the forests would continuously expand, gradually swallowing the settlements abandoned by intelligent lifeforms.
In an extreme case, if an entire plane no longer had any intelligent lifeforms, it was entirely possible for forests to occupy the