'She stood before the bulb, the Terra blade winking at her out of the corner of her eye. It would be the same as all the others, she knew. Each time she had emerged victorious; this would be the same.
She raised the blade.
A voice echoed through her mind; " Is this how heroes are made now? Cutting away the infection that is the Crimson, and then turning on us and slaughtering the very thing you protect?"
She stopped. "The Crimson is one evil in this world. You are another. I have fought servants of the Old Gods, smited twisted demons in the depths of Hell. I have destroyed beasts of flesh, bone and iron. How are you so different?"
"I represent your world. look around you: look at all you destroy in order to protect. Is this the actions of a defender? Or does the sword you wield show your true self: a murderer? Does it shine so bright to show your heroism, or to hide the blood of thousands on its blade?"
She looked at the sword. "I am the world's defender. You are a twisted abomination, a shadow of the beauty of the jungle."
" I am here to protect, same as you claim. Many of the creatures you have fought are evil, but everything you see here around you fights to protect their home. You are a trespasser: that is why I have come."
She looked at the bodies of the hornets and trappers that she had killed to reach this place. "Enough of this: This world can only have one protector. If you want me gone, you will have to get rid of me yourself. This ends now, Plantera - It's either you or me."
The voice rose, almost pleading: "It doesn't have to be. There is another option."
She looked at the bulb curiously. "And what is that?"
"Why destroy this world? What will that yield? Why destroy me, when I can make you stronger?"
She reflected on this: and, again, looked at her sword. The Terra blade: a combined force of light and dark. Not a contradiction, but a combining of powers to make a weapon stronger than any other made before it. Plantera's plea started to make sense.
The voice continued. "You have used the weapons of the enemies you have slain, even made weapons from the ore of the Crimson. Your sword was made in this way. Why take my spoils, though, when you can have all the power I possess running through your veins? "
She stepped towards the bulb, studying it.
"Well?"
She turned. The bulb, raised on a small platform, was in line with her back. "I accept your offer." She stretched out her arms. '