The guards at the front were new. Dane had never been good with names or faces, but the crest of the Legion gleamed clear enough on their armor to make him pause. If the Legion was operating the gate, something in Chronowell had changed.

  He didn't waste time with questions. A flicker of mana split the air, and he stepped through the portal into Tomas's office, or what used to pass for one. When he'd left, it had been little more than a broom closet with a desk buried under half-signed papers.

  Two spears crossed before his throat the instant he appeared. Both guards radiated the weight of peak C-rank mana.

  "You smell better this time, Lord Dane," said a portly man on the left, one Dane recognized as one of the telepad guards.

  "Are you daft?" the taller one hissed. "He's a Baron. He may not care, but if you mess up one of the Legionnaire's titles, they'll skin you alive, they will."

  Dane blinked at them, then exhaled through his nose. If these two were stationed here, and Tomas's presence still pressed faintly through the mana wards, that made the situation… complicated.

  At first, he'd thought Shattered Reach had seized control of Chronowell while he was gone. But his men still barred the Earthbound crest on their status sheets.

  "Both of you," he said quietly, "fetch the Chancellor. We need to have a long discussion."

  The guards exchanged a grimace but obeyed.

  Tomas walked into the room with quiet confidence. The kind Dane didn't remember him having. Could a few months really change a man that much? Even his face looked older; the edges were harder.

  "Welcome back, Dane. I was starting to wonder if you'd ever come back."

  "It feels good to be home," Dane said. "But we need to talk about why there's a line outside the Spire and Legion guards keeping order."

  Tomas folded his arms. "It's an arrangement we worked out. A few of the Legionnaires assigned to monitor us asked if they could test the dungeon. They went in, came out a few days later with the kind of levels they'd normally spend years hunting for. Word spread. Now every adventurer in the region wants their turn."

  He started pacing, the excitement bleeding through despite himself. "The dungeon can only handle about twenty at a time, but the trade it's brought in has been incredible. We've turned this place into a real city, Dane. It's thriving one. We even told them that they can only enter with gear crafted from Dungeon materials, so every one of the craftsmen is nearing C rank. Hundreds even want to convert to the Earthbound System for easier access to the Market; merchants are flooding in, and workshops are going up every few hours. It's everything we wanted."

  "That sounds great," Dane said evenly, "except for the part where we're technically at war with the Legion, and we might have just invited a few hundred spies into our front yard."

  Tomas blinked, and the pride drained from his face. "What do you mean by war with the Legion? Do you know how insane that sounds? They're the strongest faction on this rock, and you just. What, picked a fight?"

  "Not exactly." Dane rubbed the back of his neck. "They picked a fight with me after I accidentally converted their equivalent of a princess to our system. Not ideal, I'll admit. But on the bright side, we gained one hell of a water mage."

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  Tomas facepalmed, dragging his hand down his face. "You what? Never mind. How long do we have?"

  "I'm not sure," Dane said. "I got a System notification that said Tormund's waiting for me at the Colosseum."

  Tomas froze. "You realize how bad that is, right? Tormund's nearly A-rank. He's undefeated in single combat."

  Dane sighed. "Guess we'll see how long that lasts."

  After the excitement died down, Tomas gave Dane a few lackluster updates about the town. Something about the plumbing finally working, some nonsense about irrigation, and a note that new skill paths had begun to appear among the craftsmen. It was the sort of talk that used to matter to him, the day-to-day victories of building something from nothing, but now it only reminded him why he'd never wanted the leadership role in the first place.

  "What about Amelia?" Dane asked quietly. "Is she alright?"

  Tomas hesitated before answering. "Yeah… she woke up not long after you left. But a few weeks ago, she stopped leaving your cottage. I check in every night, knock, try to get her to talk, but she hasn't answered in days. The lights are always on, though." He paused, lowering his voice. "Sometimes I hear her crying."

  Something in Dane's chest went tight.

  "And Jason?"

  "Well," Dane said, "do you have room for four more somewhere? We've got Lyra, the water mage. The twins, who I'm still not sure are actually related, and a minotaur.”

  Tomas gave him a look but smirked faintly. "I'll make it work. The water magic will come in handy; it's been hard to get those new magitech washers running this far from the river. What do you know about the others?"

  "Next to nothing," Dane admitted. "But I want them placed where they can gain combat and logistics skills. I'm planning to use them as a strike team when we get back to Earth."

  Tomas went quiet. The smirk faded. "Dane… are you sure that's even worth it? We don't know what happened on the surface. For all we know, Earth's gone. And here, this world. It's… not perfect, but we don't have to worry about anything. There's food, shelter, mana. People are starting over." He met Dane's eyes. "I've known nothing but this dungeon from birth. After you cleared it, and I didn't need to mine anymore, or serve some noble. It is everything I ever dreamed of."

  Dane sat back, thinking. The words made a certain kind of sense. The world had grown, changed, and found its rhythm without him. Just like when he'd given the freed Beast Tide their choice, he wondered if this war, this journey home, was something anyone else even wanted.

  "I understand where you're coming from," he said quietly. "But I have to go back. I need to make sure Rebecca's safe. For her, it's only been two and a half years. For me, it's been a lifetime.”

  He paused, voice softening. "When we were in the woods and monsters came for us every night, I promised her I'd never let anything happen to her. I'm not a liar, Tomas."

  The two sat in silence, like pieces of metal that had once been one, but time had weathered them differently. One had rusted, the other patinaed, shaped by different storms.

  "It was good to see you, Tomas," Dane said finally. "You've been like a brother to me. We can talk more when I have a clearer plan. For all I know, I might never make it out of here.”

  Relief flickered across Tomas's face. The town had grown with him, and he'd earned his peace. Nearing fifteen and already a solid mid-C rank, Tomas would live a good life.

  Dane opened a portal and stepped through, rejoining his companions. He left them with the two guards, Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dum, as he'd silently christened them. Then he made his way home.

  Tomas hadn't lied. Chronowell was no longer a shanty of tents and half-built walls. It had become something between the old world and the new. Iron and stone beside wood and cloth, runes glowing faintly between lanterns. The air carried the noise of construction, laughter, and life. This place had grown without him. And as he walked the streets, he realized that he might never truly know this place.

  He reached his porch. Someone had planted flowers that almost passed for hyacinths. Their scent mingled with something richer. Chicken perhaps. Baking, maybe frying, he couldn't tell.

  Dane pushed open the door.

  Amelia sat at the kitchen table, her eyes unfocused, staring at the wall.

  "You know," she said quietly, "before, when you got close to me, I could feel it, like a sixth sense." She gave a faint, weary smile. "Now there's nothing. It's like a stranger just walked into my home."