The waterfall's mist drifted over the meadow like fine rain, cool and sweet on overheated skin. The convoy's tents rose in a loose half-circle against the cliff wall, fires flickering to life in small rings as people finally—finally—let themselves stop moving. It wasn't the real camp, just a temporary scatter of gear and blankets after the long tunnel march, but the atmosphere was unmistakable: relief threaded with wonder. They were inside a hidden valley. Alive. Sheltered.
Talia stood for a moment with her eyes closed, breathing in the scent of wet stone and green things. It settled something in her chest. When she opened her eyes, Dav, Joel, Tegan, and the Professor were already waiting, watching the tree line with expressions ranging from awe to academic avarice.
"Quick sweep?" Dav asked.
She nodded.
They didn't go far. Just enough to understand the shape of the land. The meadow shone golden in the late light, soft underfoot and dense with unfamiliar flowers, it would look amazing under the pure light of the two moons. The soil was deep, dark and rich—Tegan dug her fingers into it and let out a delighted noise that was half gasp, half hysterical gardening joy. Joel followed the river's curve, dropping stones in and watching the current pull them away instantly. "Fast enough for a mill," he said. "Too fast for kids to swim. Good fishing, though."
The Professor pressed a palm to the cliff face and murmured something reverent about mineral striations and possible ore veins. Dav paced the perimeter, eyes calculating choke points, sightlines, scalable walls. "One entrance," he said. "High cliffs. Anyone who wants in, has to come through us. Good terrain."
It was a place that felt like it had been waiting.
When they returned to the temporary camp, the small governing group gathered automatically, forming a loose circle on the grass. Nobody sat. They were too keyed-up for that.
Theo rubbed a tired hand over his face. "We need to talk. Territory."
Nodding, Talia mentally withdrew her Lord Ticket.
[Unclaimed Territory Detected. Claim?]
[Permanent Claim] – [Temporary Claim]
"Huh." She blinked and glanced at the others. "I've got two options."
"Temporary," Dav said without hesitation. "Test it before we're locked in."
The Professor nodded eagerly. "Data first. Commitment later."
"I'm noticing a theme," Talia muttered. She selected the temporary option.
Mist condensed in front of her, swirling into shape. A tall, slender pyramid—stone-like, human-made geometry—manifested, humming faintly. A message brushed her awareness again:
[Place Temporary Core. Choose a stable location.]
Talia turned in a slow circle. Then she looked up toward the waterfall. Behind the curtain of water, a narrow ledge cut across the cliff.
"That'll do," she murmured.
She placed it.
The pyramid flickered and vanished, reappearing behind the waterfall where spray kissed its edges. It gleamed faintly, resonating. Something unseen settled across the valley like a breath drawn in.
"What happens if it breaks?" she asked, half expecting the system to answer.
Silence.
Dav folded his arms. "It won't. Not while I'm alive."
That would have to be enough.
Talia nodded and lifted her wrist. The faint symbol had appeared after the territory claim—thin pyramid shape with a tiny crown perched at the top.
"Same for us," Theo said. He turned his wrist. A pyramid symbol glowed there—without the crown. Cael and a few others checked, finding the same mark. "Candidates," Talia said. "You're linked but not… crowned."
She touched the mark and a floating panel appeared in her vision, mentally thinking to exit, it disappeared and her vision remained clean.
"Okay, I'm already happier. No HUD. That would've been hell to live with forever."
She turned her attention back to the new menu. She scrolled through and found two new tabs: Building Mode. Terraforming Mode.
"Well," she murmured, "this can't possibly go wrong."
She toggled the terraforming tab.
A top-down map snapped into clarity in her mind, the valley shrinking into a miniature landscape beneath an invisible hand. Curious, she flicked her fingers through the air. Nothing.
She tapped the map.
The ground in front of her sagged into a neat ditch with a spray of loose soil puffing upward.
"What did you just do?" someone yelped.
"Playing god," Talia announced, far too casually.
She dragged her finger again.
The ditch elongated, then smoothed into a dirt path, pushing grass neatly aside like someone peeling carpet.
"Talia," Mara groaned, "please don't destroy this planet too."
"Where's the undo button?" Joel asked, horrified.
"Found it!" she announced, though she absolutely had not. But she did manage to reverse the path with some frantic backtracking.
A wide smile formed on her face.
She switched the view to a side-angle, faced the cliff, and tapped.
The stone bowed inward slightly, a shallow concave dent, as though something had pressed a thumb into granite.
The growing crowd inhaled sharply.
Talia lifted her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, hear me out. Winter is coming and we have no idea how bad it gets. So… let's be mountain dwellers."
Chaos erupted immediately. People talking over each other—arguments, excitement, fear, wildly different opinions. Some thought it was brilliant. Others were terrified of living inside stone.
Theo listened quietly, weighing every voice. Brielle soothed a few children who thought the mountain might eat them. Cael looked grudgingly impressed. Dav was nodding like he'd already begun designing defence networks throughout the mountain.
When it finally calmed, Talia spoke.
"It's temporary," she said. "Just for winter. I'd rather have us all trapped together in there, than scattered out here if the storms are bad."
She opened the blueprint menu.
Her face fell.
"Oh no."
"What is it?" Grandma Elene asked.
Talia held the display higher. "Our housing options are… crap. Log Shelter, Wood Hut, Lean-to. We get a Firepit, a drying rack, a couple of very basic stations. Nothing that can support two hundred people comfortably."
Dav deadpanned, "Winter is going to be fun."
"Let's build igloos," Cael offered.
Theo sighed at the family's stupidity. "Or we could upgrade the territory instead."
Talia was about to flip the page when a glimmer caught her eye: Customization Tab.
She opened it.
Inside was a list of costs—little icons of the shards they'd been collecting from wildlife.
Realisation struck. "Those are currency," she murmured. "We… can pay to build."
She looked up at the crowd.
"We can build our own home. Properly. The gift packs gave enough for basic E-Rank structures… but in the mountain, we don't need walls and roofs. We need stations. Production gear, tools, workshops. We can test whether system-made items are better than our own. Everything we learn here shapes our future."
She lifted her chin slightly. "Also… I want to see how far we can push this. A whole street? District? A village blueprint? Let's find out."
Architects, engineers, builders—heads snapped up. The Professor made a sound like he'd discovered a new star.
"Design it," Talia said. "Our winter citadel. Go wild."
A loud groan rose from the others. "We want to play toooo—"
Talia jabbed a thumb toward the children tumbling across the meadow. "Go join that group if you want playtime."
That earned laughter, a welcome lightness.
She scrolled through the new menu and froze as an unfamiliar tab unfolded: Appointment Function. Only one role wasn't greyed out—High Sentinel. She had no idea what that meant, but when she glanced at Theo—steady, sharp-eyed, already managing half the camp's sanity, it just… felt right. She tapped his name.
Sensing her watching, Theo blinked. "What?"
"You're High Sentinel now," she said.
"What's that?"
"No idea. It was the only option and sounded like you."
He gave her a long, betrayed stare.
He tapped his mark; nothing changed. "Talia…"
"Look, if it helps, it felt very 'Theo' coded," she offered, which did not help.
Still muttering under his breath, he thought for a bit then stepped behind the waterfall and pressed his hand to the stone ledge where the pyramid shimmered.
He went very still. "Oh. That's… new."
He returned with a resigned sigh. "It's basically Earth's stewardship role. Same responsibility. New vocabulary."
Talia shrugged. "See, a perfect fit."
Turning to face the crowd, Talia clapped her hands once. "All right. Enough resting. Let's take the family on a tour of our new home."
"Oh, and we need a name," she added. "Three days the entire camp votes and the majority wins."
The cheer that rose felt different from the ones before—more grounded, more human. Less desperate.
They walked the valley together—siblings, parents, grandparents, nieces, nephews, bonded families trailing behind. Dav pointed out defensive ridges. Tegan knelt to examine herbs. Mum knelt beside her. Joel stuck half his arm into the river until he swore from the cold. Children ran beside the group followed by a series of "What's that?". Elders leaned on the younger ones and whispered how lucky they were.
The soil was soft, perfect for crops. The forest was dense but not hostile. Loose stones gathered in piles ready for masonry. The cliffs bore signs of mineral veins. The river roared, strong enough to power a mill. Fish darted in shadows. Small wildlife slipped through grass, harmless and curious. A dream start for any settlement and it was theirs.
It took almost the length of the morning convoy walk, but nobody complained. Hope carried them. Anticipation warmed them more than the sun. Everyone moved like they had found something they didn't dare dream about during those drought 24hours on Earth just over a week ago.
Now they had a place that could be theirs.
A place they could call 'Home'.