Part of Holly had never left the train station.

  Jack had made it clear he liked her. At least, that’s how it had felt—that moment when he’d looked into her eyes and said that meeting her had been a big deal. That moment lingered and kept replaying—only in her version, it ended with a confession and a long kiss.

  She couldn’t pinpoint when, but she had fallen for him. Her heart raced whenever she thought of him. She fell asleep thinking of him, woke up thinking of him—and in between, he showed up in her dreams.

  But she already had so much going on. Between her coursework, her job, and the tightrope she walked every day just to keep things from falling apart, she didn’t know if she could afford to let someone in. What if letting Jack in pulled her off balance? What if giving in to her feelings made everything else crumble?

  She sat on a stone bench tucked along the outside of the library building, a half-finished coffee cooling in her hands. Her phone buzzed. She looked down.

  It was him again. She didn’t answer. Even though every part of her wanted to. She just stared at the screen until it dimmed.

  She wasn’t ready to speak to him yet. Not until she figured out how she felt. Or maybe she already did—and just didn’t know what to do with it.

  She took a slow breath and tried to gather herself. She should go inside. She had work to do, tutoring sessions to prepare for.

  “Hey,” someone said.

  She looked up. Jack stood just a few feet away. She blinked, unsure for a second if she was imagining him. But he was real. Right there in front of her.

  “Jack?”

  “Hi, Holly,” he said softly.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to check on you.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah,” he said, shifting his weight slightly. “You were kind of off yesterday. I just needed to make sure you were OK.”

  She stared at him, heart thudding. He was here. Now. While his father was getting treatment. While she was avoiding him.

  Holly’s stomach twisted. She let out a slow breath, then gestured to the empty space beside her on the bench. “Want to sit down?”

  He did.

  For a while, neither of them spoke. Leaves rustled overhead, stirred by a light breeze. In the distance, a fountain murmured quietly, water trickling over stone. The quiet stretched—fragile, but not uncomfortable.

  “How did you find me?”

  “You study engineering,” he said with a shrug. “I figured I’d find you around here. Eventually.”

  She nodded, her eyes fixed on the pavement. “Sorry for not answering my phone. I needed time. To think.”

  Jack swallowed. “About what?”

  “Yesterday, when you invited me for coffee…”

  He shifted beside her. “Yeah?”

  “Why did you invite me?”

  She could see him hesitating—the tension in his shoulders, the way he braced himself. When he finally drew in a breath, she knew the answer was coming. Real, unfiltered. No backing out now.

  “Holly…” His voice was steady but quiet. “I have feelings for you.”

  The words hit harder than she expected. It felt like something warm cracked open inside her—like the quiet longing she’d been carrying had finally been seen. Finally named.

  Jack glanced at her, searching her face. “I don’t know if this is the right time or the right way to say it. But I like you. I think you’re amazing. You’re smart, driven, stubborn in the best way. You work harder than anyone I know. And when I’m around you, I feel… lighter. Happier. Call me crazy, but I think we’re good together.”

  Holly looked down at her hands. They were burning and freezing at the same time. She liked him. That was the problem. Saying it would be easy. It would feel incredible.

  But then what? She saw the road ahead too clearly—late nights studying, missed appointments, fights, the exhaustion always waiting to catch her. School. Work. Burnout recovery. And now, a relationship too?

  It was too much.

  She stood too quickly. If she stayed seated another second, she might say yes. “Jack… I can’t.”

  Jack blinked, like he hadn’t quite heard her right. Then, slowly, he stood up too.

  “What does that mean?” he asked.

  Holly turned away before he could say more. Not because she didn’t care—because she cared too much. Her heart pounded, loud enough to betray her. She didn’t trust it to stay quiet.

  She couldn’t face him. If she looked into his eyes, her resolve would crack.

  This wasn’t what he needed.

  His last girlfriend had left because he hadn’t been ready for more. But Holly had seen him with his father, seen the way he showed up when it mattered. He was ready now.

  And she wasn’t.

  “I feel terrible,” she said quietly, still facing away. “I led you on, and I shouldn’t have. I’m so busy. It’s just too much. I don’t have space for a relationship right now.”

  “Holly, if it’s time you need, you can keep using the Time Field. We could take things slowly. I don’t want to get in your way.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I don’t want to get in yours either. I’m sorry, Jack.”

  Then she walked away.

  She didn’t let herself cry until she was out of sight—until the path bent, and the bench was gone, and she was truly alone. Then the dam broke, and the tears came hard and fast, blurring everything.

  Holly pressed a hand to her mouth and kept walking.

  She’d done the right thing.

  Even if it hurt.

  *

  Jack stayed there long after she was gone.

  He wasn’t sure how much time passed. Some part of him kept waiting for time to rewind—for Holly to come running back, breathless, saying she’d made a mistake.

  It didn’t happen.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  What unsettled him wasn’t the rejection itself. It was the certainty that she had liked him.

  He’d seen it yesterday, and even before that. In the way her eyes lingered on him. In the way she immediately accepted any excuse he came up with to spend time together.

  Jack swallowed and dragged a hand down his face.

  She hadn’t pushed him away because she didn’t care. She’d pushed him away because she wasn’t ready for a relationship.

  Just like it had been with him and Lydia. The realization landed hard, knocking the air from his chest. Lydia’s face surfaced in his mind—uninvited but vivid. Was this how she felt? Knowing she was ready for something more, and seeing that the other party had the feelings to proceed, but lacked the rest?

  Was this karma? Or maybe just an ugly symmetry?

  Whatever it was, it sucked.

  Every instinct screamed at him to go after Holly—to insist, to say that he could wait, that he didn’t need more, that they could make it work somehow.

  But what would that change? How could he ask her not to feel overwhelmed?

  Jack stood and turned away from the bench, leaving the garden behind.

  He walked back to the clinic. He needed the air. By the time he reached the building, he only felt worse.

  Inside, the first thing he saw was his mother, seated in the waiting room, clutching Rob’s hand. Her eyes were fixed on the hallway doors, flicking toward them every few seconds.

  Jack stopped for half a heartbeat. He drew a slow breath, forced his mouth into something that passed for a smile, and walked over.

  What had happened on campus didn’t matter here. Leaving the clinic at all had been a mistake. His mother didn’t deserve him being somewhere else.

  Maybe if things had gone differently, he’d feel different too. But they hadn’t. It was all just wrong.

  Come on, Jack. Get it together.

  “Hey, everyone,” he said.

  “Hey, Jack,” Rob replied quietly. His mother nodded, eyes drifting back to the doors.

  Her mother-senses didn’t pick up the tightness in his voice. She was too focused on his dad.

  Rob did notice. Their eyes met for a brief second. Rob’s brow furrowed, and he gave Jack a questioning look.

  Jack shook his head just once.

  Rob’s expression changed instantly. He looked away, jaw tightening. Jack could tell he hadn’t expected things to end that way.

  Jack sat beside his mother and took her hand, holding it firmly. She squeezed back without looking at him.

  The waiting room felt suspended, like the world outside had kept moving but time here had fractured into silence and flickering lights. The aquarium bubbled quietly. Someone across the room coughed. A distant door hissed open, then closed.

  Time passed in fragments.

  Finally, a nurse stepped through, wheeling José out. He was pale, his posture slumped, but he was awake. Jack and Rob were on their feet instantly.

  “Uncle Zé!”

  “How did it go?” Jack asked the nurse.

  “Everything went well,” the nurse said gently. “He’ll need plenty of rest, but the treatment went smoothly.”

  “Thank you,” Jack’s mother whispered, grabbing the nurse’s hands. Then she turned to her husband. “Sweetheart,” she murmured, kneeling slightly to bring herself eye-level with him. She cupped his face with both hands, brushing her thumbs gently across his cheeks.

  José gave a slow blink. “Hi.”

  She let out a quiet, tearful laugh. “Oh, baby, you’re so pale.”

  “I’m okay,” he said softly. “Just tired.”

  She kissed his forehead, then turned to the nurse. “Is he in any pain?”

  “No,” the nurse replied. “He will be disoriented or groggy for the next few hours. Just let him rest.”

  “So we can take him home?” Jack confirmed.

  The nurse smiled, nodding.

  Jack stepped forward and took the handles of the wheelchair. “Hear that? Let’s go home, Dad.”

  “Uh… what?” José mumbled, blinking again in confusion.

  Jack sighed. His dad was pretty out of it.

  “Anything that he should avoid eating?” his mother asked.

  “He can have a normal diet. But maybe make the first meal a little lighter, just so he—”

  “We’re going to go ahead and put Dad in the car, Mom,” Jack said.

  “OK, baby. What about the sleep. He and my son use these VRX helmets and…”

  While his mother finished asking questions, Jack and Rob began a quest that—on New Earth—would’ve earned an epic difficulty rating: getting their dad into the car.

  Rob moved ahead to hold the door. Together, they wheeled José out to the car. Jack handled the upper half, Rob took the legs. His father was heavier than he looked—and completely limp with exhaustion.

  He slept the whole ride home, head tilted gently against the window, breathing slow and steady. Jack’s mother sat beside him in the backseat, one hand resting on his arm, the other slowly brushing through his hair. She didn’t say a word, but Jack could see it—the quiet relief in her eyes, the tension that had finally started to ease.

  At home, getting him to bed was its own challenge. Turned out the epic quest wasn’t a one-off—it was part of a chain-quest.

  José stirred groggily when they tried to lift him, murmuring a few unintelligible words before slipping back under. But Rob and Jack managed. Together, they guided him up the stairs, eased him onto the mattress, and pulled the covers up to his chest.

  Jack’s mother hovered nearby, switching pillows, adjusting the blanket, checking his forehead for the fifth time. She moved with quiet precision—efficient, but gentle. Jack saw the dark circles under her eyes, the way she blinked just a little slower now.

  “Thank you, boys,” she said softly. “I’m going to lie down for a bit.”

  Jack and Rob exchanged a glance.

  “We’re probably heading back to work then, Aunty,” Rob said.

  She nodded. “Fine. I’ll make dinner later. Just make sure you log out by seven.”

  Jack’s eyes flicked toward the gaming helmet near the TV. For a second, he considered offering it to his father—just to let him see the place they’d built together. But before he could speak, his mother caught the glance and shook her head.

  “Your father needs real sleep, Jack.”

  He nodded.

  “You two go,” she added more softly. “He’ll join you tomorrow.”

  “Sure thing, Mom.”

  They stepped out of the bedroom, easing the door shut behind them.

  Rob leaned back against the hallway wall, arms crossed. He didn’t speak right away. Jack could feel the question brewing before it came.

  “So…” Rob said at last. “It didn’t go well with Holly, huh?”

  Jack stared down the hallway. “She said she can’t.”

  He waited. Waited for the follow-up. She can’t what? Why? What did she say?

  But Rob just looked down at the floor and nodded slowly.

  “That’s… too bad.”

  Jack cleared his throat. “Shall we message the others and log in?”

  “You sure?” Rob tilted his head. “You don’t want to rest? Take the day off? I’m sure the others—”

  “I need the distraction,” Jack said, cutting him off. His voice was quiet but firm.

  He didn’t want to think about benches or coffee cups or the way Holly’s voice had cracked. Starting the village—finally doing something—might help him forget just how raw everything still felt.

  Rob studied him for a second, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll ping the others.”

  Jack walked to the VR capsule while Rob took the helmet to the bed. They moved with the quiet rhythm of two cousins who knew each other’s routines by heart. It was comforting.

  The lid closed down over Jack. The hum of the machine wrapped around him—warm, familiar. Then came the shift, smooth as a blink.

  He was back in the Sand Sea.

  The cold hit Jack the moment he logged in.

  Amari hadn’t been kidding—deserts could get brutally cold at night.

  [Debuff: Freezing] resisted by [Cold Resistance]

  Thank goodness he wasn’t lacking in the cold resistance department. Still, the temperature bit at his ears.

  The valley around them had transformed while he was gone. Several army-style tents were scattered across the sand, fires crackling at intervals, their smoke curling into the star-speckled sky. Someone was tending one of the nearer fires, adjusting a log with the end of a stick.

  Jack rubbed at his arms, then tilted his head back. It was the starriest night he’d ever seen. No clouds, no light pollution. Just a dome of distant suns stretching endlessly above him. It didn’t feel like a sky. It felt like space itself.

  A soft whir of wings broke the silence. Marie arrived first, swooping down on Sunny. She dismounted and approached with a warm smile—a little too warm. The kind people used when they didn’t want to poke a bruise.

  “Hey, Jack,” she said gently. “Good to see you!”

  Jack narrowed his eyes, then glanced at Rob nearby, who feigned ignorance. Of course. He must’ve told them.

  He could see it in Marie’s expression—that subtle flicker of guilt. She probably felt bad for encouraging him to go for it with Holly. He didn’t blame her for that. But he didn’t have the energy to say something reassuring to her. Not yet.

  Horace and Amari arrived soon after.

  “How did it go with your father?” Horace asked, his voice too polite.

  Jack gave a short nod. “It went well.”

  “Good. Good,” Horace said, nodding just a little too much.

  Yeah. Everyone knew.

  He sighed, letting the weight settle in his chest. Maybe it was for the best. It saved him from retelling the story.

  Amari, thankfully, didn’t treat him like he might break. “Good that we’re back. We were exploring the area while you were away.”

  “And?” he asked, grateful for Amari’s usual directness.

  “We marked a few things on the map. Mostly mining nodes and plants.”

  “No water?”

  He shook her head. “No clay either.”

  Jack nodded. He’d expected that. It was why he’d prepared the way he did. Still, it was good to cross the easy options off the list. Knowing what wasn’t there was a step forward, too.

  He pulled the cube from his inventory. It caught the starlight as he turned it in his hands, its engraved faces glinting faintly—a sun, moon, and stars; a snowflake; a family; a troop of soldiers; a single, large eye; and a group of bears gazing up at a flying pterosaur.

  Every side held a piece of what they’d done in the Breach run.

  “Shall we?” Jack asked, forcing a smile.

  Some of the tension in the air eased. Smiles bloomed in response. Even Jack’s aching heart seemed to forget its pain for a moment.

  The countless waves of monsters in the Breach, the constant flight from the Slayer, the grueling hours of crafting, even his heartbreaks, it had all led here.

  It was time to find out what starting a village really meant. Jack tapped the cube.

  Warning: Once placed, your village cannot be moved.

  Do you want to start your village here?

  He selected Yes.

  The cube began to glow, vibrating violently in his hands.

  It was starting.

  Their village was being born.