Sylas sat on the earth, sweat streaming off his forehead as the sun beat down on him. The smell of dust, wood, and damp soil hung in the air. The old shed groaned softly behind him—still upright, but just barely.
He wiped his palms against his tunic and gazed at the twisted roof. The most unpleasant part of the fix.
"Fine," he grumbled to himself. "Time to learn to be a builder, I suppose."
He stood up and took a pile of recovered wood he'd fetched in from the forest's perimeter. Much of it wasn't ideal—curved, broken, mossy—but he wasn't allowed options.
[Quest Progress: "First Home"]
Cleaned: 100%
Roof Repaired: 0% → 12%
It wasn't difficult nailing boards. Fitting them in was. He bungled through the job, hammering one nail skewed, then one too deep. He muttered obscenities to himself, close to smashing his thumb.
"You're gonna chase the birds away with all that cussing," a voice said.
Sylas spun around to see a boy likely no more than thirteen staring at him from the trail. He had untidy brown hair and a fishing rod slung over his shoulder.
Sylas squinted. "Do birds even hang out in this junkyard?"
"They used to. Until you came and took up residence."
The boy smiled and approached. "Name's Ryn. You're the new one, huh?"
"Sylas," he said, giving a nod. "Just trying to make this place habitable."
"Looks like a chicken coop." Ryn kicked the frame with his toe. "But hey, better than nothing."
The two sat quietly for a couple of seconds before Ryn asked, "You from the west?"
Sylas hesitated. ".You could say that."
He did not want to go into the reincarnation aspect. Even he was still trying to come to terms with it.
"Well, here's Haresh. Don't mind Old Mira. She speaks like a grump but still leaves bread on doorsteps when nobody's watching."
Sylas cracked a small smile. "Thanks."
The lad departed shortly afterward, and Sylas went back to work. By late afternoon, his palms were bruised, his back hurt, and the roof of the shed was… still a bit awry—but improved.
A shadow fell upon the ground behind him.
"Looks tougher than it was," a deep voice remarked.
Sylas spun to see Garen there, holding a leather pouch.
"Figured you might need nails," the blacksmith explained, throwing the pouch to him. "Won't charge you for them. Think of it as an investment."
Sylas opened his eyes wide. "Why are you helping me?"
Garen shrugged. "You're making an effort. Most people don't bother repairing anything these days. They wait for someone else to do it."
There was something in the man's eyes—something that made Sylas think of older men he'd encountered in hospitals. Weary, but proud.
He gazed down at the pouch. Nails. Actual, solid iron. Heavy in his hand.
Not a fallen item. Not a reward for a quest.
A gift.
[Reputation Increased: Haresh Village +5]
[System Message: Villager Garen has recognized your efforts.]
[Trait Unlocked: "First Steps" – Your hands are no longer those of a patient. Manual labor is a bit more effective.
Sylas stood there for a moment, observing as Garen walked away down the road.
This was more than leveling up. More than stats.
This was trust.
Earned, not given.
As the sun fell behind the hills, Sylas finally stood before the shed—now with most of the roof mended. Rain still may leak through, but not so much. It was… habitable.
He stepped inside, tracing his fingers along the wooden structure. There were no windows, and the walls were thin, but the breeze tasted of grass and evening.
He sat on a stack of hay and reclined, looking up at the uncompleted ceiling.
I'm not merely surviving now. I'm living.
He no longer had cancer.
No IVs. No counting clock. No cold rooms.
Only sweat. Splinters. And, for the first time in years. a future.
[Quest Completed: "First Home"]
Reward: Permanent Shelter Acquired
+10 EXP | +5 Reputation | +1 Endurance
New Title Unlocked: "Wanderer with a Roof"
That evening, Sylas slept on the hard floor, his eyes directed up into the ceiling of patched wood above him. His muscles throbbed in ways they had never done before, but it was a good pain.
"I'm really here," he breathed.
Not a game.
Not a dream.
This world was real.
And it was only just starting.