--Trace looked up at the rays of sunlight streaming through the trees. There wasn’t anywhere else in the world he’d rather be. He’d always felt at home in the Great Outdoors--camping, hiking, mountain climbing whenever he got the chance. It was like…this was the real world. The streets and buildings of the city just couldn’t compare. Too bad his friends weren’t interested in nature. None of them ever wanted to go with him on his expeditions. Usually that didn’t bother him—he never really felt lonely on a hike. But something was different, wrong. The breeze had died suddenly. The birds weren’t singing. It was unnaturally quiet. He’d also had the feeling that someone was watching him, even though he couldn’t see anything.

Trace decided to stop for a few minutes to rest. He sat down against a tree to take a drink. A rustling sound in the bushes to the right made him jump up, dropping his canteen. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see something moving to his left, too. When he turned, nothing was there but some shrubs. Something had a hold of his leg! He was tangled in vines. He reached down to pull them away, but they shot up and grabbed his arm as if they had a mind of their own! Trace started to panic as he struggled to no avail. The vines wrapped around him while the bushes and trees seemed to close in on him. In moments, he was completely encased in a cocoon of plants.

Suddenly, he wasn’t afraid anymore. He felt calm, safe. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift and merge with the natural world around him. He could hear voices, the whisperings of nature. They were urging him to say something. Like a rustle of leaves, the words fell from his lips. "Armor of Gaea." A rush of power surged through him like something bursting to life.

Trace had no idea how long he’d lain there, but when he opened his eyes again, the vines had receded. He was in a clearing wearing a strange armor, green and brown like the woods. In his hand was a telescoping staff of some strange material. Trace held it over his head and shouted, "RAGE OF THE WILD!" He pounded it into the ground. The trees and bushes and vines—every plant around him—leaped at his command, growing into whatever he envisioned.