Proxima Centauri b, one month later.
At the former site of Research Base New New South Wales, a single tree grew. Unlike any of the other newly created vegetation, it was alone in the center of a vast clearing and was of no particular species of tree. And on that tree was a single fruit, pulsing with a rhythmic red light.
Motes of shining mana were flowing into the fruit, causing it to sway from side to side. As more and more motes struck the fruit and passed through its skin, the swaying sped up with each passing second until cracks spread on the fruit’s surface. They continued spreading and widening until the fruit fragmented much like an eggshell, dropping a slim, hairless human figure to the ground, covered in a clear, slick goo. The man, for man he obviously was, given the equipment between his legs, stood and wiped the goo from his eyes.