The coolness of the morning hung over the field like a thin veil of mist. Slightly bent, their hands meeting the soil, two figures were busy pulling weeds from among the vegetable plants.

  My footsteps made a faint rustling sound upon the damp grass. Approaching the elderly couple, I called out gently,

  “Good morning. Do you need any help?”

  They must have noticed me coming from afar, for they set aside their work and paused to rest.

  The woman spoke with a weary yet warm smile upon her face.

  “No, dear, we’re nearly finished anyway. There’s no need for you to help. Did you sleep well? Are you feeling better?”

  There was such sincere warmth in her voice that a vague emotion stirred within me. Their kindness felt unfamiliar.

  With a somewhat shy expression, I lowered my head.

  “Yes, I slept very well. Thank you,” I replied.

  The woman gave a soft sigh as she recalled the events of the previous night.

  “When you suddenly sat up and fainted, you gave us quite a fright. If I hadn’t told my wooden-headed husband here, he wouldn’t even have noticed we’d moved you to the new bed.”

  The old man beside her grumbled in protest.

  “Now then, wife, that’s not fair! When the lad sprang up and collapsed, I was in shock. I hadn’t the faintest idea what to do.”

  Then he turned his gaze upon me, looking me up and down. Wrapped in the blanket as I was, I must not have presented the most dignified appearance.

  “Son, you’ve grown terribly thin. I may have once been a man accustomed to splitting logs and carrying great stacks of timber, and though I’ve grown old, carrying you was far too easy. Your body looks exhausted — quite worn out.”

  The woman cleared her throat lightly, cutting him off and steering the conversation elsewhere.

  “My dear, I’m sure you have many questions about what’s happened. And we, in turn, are curious about you. But let’s set that aside for the moment, shall we?” she said gently.

  “It’s cold outside. Go inside and warm yourself by the fire. Once we’ve finished a few things here, we’ll join you. I’ll prepare a proper breakfast, and we shall eat together. Go on now — don’t catch a chill.”

  Her voice, with its softness and sincerity, seemed to wrap around me like a comforting shawl. Without much chance to protest, I accepted her words and turned towards the adobe house.

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  As I walked slowly back, a strange sense of peace settled within me. There was something oddly endearing about this elderly couple.

  Just before entering the house, I could not resist turning back.

  They had set aside their tools and were exchanging playful remarks. The woman’s brows were faintly furrowed, while the man responded with a teasing smile.

  A warmth I could not quite explain filled my chest. I found myself smiling faintly before continuing on my way.

  I began observing my surroundings more closely.

  The house was a typical old village dwelling. A small yet functional stable stood nearby, along with a garden where fresh vegetables were grown. The clucking of hens rose from a coop, and fruit trees dotted the land.

  It was a place untouched by the erosion of time, possessing a quiet peace entirely its own. Built upon a hill, it offered a view stretching far into the distance.

  My eyes drifted to the valley below, where small, closely clustered houses rose like mushrooms. The elderly couple had clearly chosen to build their world away from the rest of the community.

  “Perhaps as people grow older, their tolerance for others diminishes,” I mused.

  Who knew? In time, I might follow the same path.

  When I turned my head further, imposing mountains rose before me in all their splendour. Their bare rocks were cloaked with pine trees, spread across them like an emerald mantle.

  The view was breathtaking, as though torn from a painting.

  “This world may be old,” I murmured, “but it is beautiful.”

  Deciding to heed my hosts’ advice and not linger outside, I prepared to step inside.

  Just as I reached the threshold, I heard a faint sound.

  At first, I assumed it was merely the wind at play. But the sound grew clearer.

  It resembled a woman’s voice — soft, almost like a whisper.

  I froze. I scanned my surroundings. No one was visible apart from the elderly couple.

  And then… the voice came again.

  At first it had been a muffled murmur, but now it was unmistakable.

  “Photo taken. Photo taken. Photo taken. Would you like to view the photos?”

  My eyes widened. I recognised that voice.

  For a moment, my breath caught in my throat.

  Then I realised.

  “Eureka! Eureka!”

  It was my smartphone assistant — Siri.

  But… how could Siri possibly exist within my mind?

  Had Whaley, the being that brought me here, perceived my phone and myself as a single entity?

  In my old world, people spent much of their lives with their phones in hand. Perhaps Whaley had assumed those devices were extensions of our very bodies.

  If that were the case, it was not entirely surprising.

  A surge of curiosity rose within me.

  “Siri, show me the photos,” I said, a slight tremor in my voice.

  “As you wish.”

  And at once, images appeared within my mind.

  Photographs of the cheerful elderly woman in her traditional attire, standing beside her husband…

  In some, they struck peculiar poses; in others, entirely natural moments had been captured.

  As I looked, an indescribable feeling stirred within me.

  And then… I laughed.

  Siri had merged with my consciousness.

  The strangeness of this new reality made me smile.

  “With my intelligent assistant, I can accomplish anything,” I thought.

  Yet unfortunately, this world was far less advanced than the one I had left behind.

  The happiness that had just filled me slowly gave way to a deep melancholy.

  With a heavy heart, I stepped into the adobe house.