So, on top of being an Iron Provocateur, a Warden and the proto-Guardian of the Threshold, I was now also, apparently, the Master of a village. If I kept this up, I was definitely going to need to update my business cards.

A village. Settlement. Outpost. Threshold-Aligned Holding. The language kept shifting depending on which part of my brain I was listening to. Whether it was the bit that still remembered Saturday afternoons playing SimCity in my bedroom, or the part trying to reconcile all this with Aunt M's most recent lectures on cross-dimensional waveform collapses.

Master of a village. Me! But here I was, dripping wet and standing at the edge of a magically resonant well while my teammate bled out behind me, and the System had just handed me the keys to the place. Because apparently, that's how land ownership works in Bayteran.

W had Aunt M said?—when the System had triggered when I first sat down at the edge of the well. That this place wasn't just geography, it was a point of metaphysical convergence. A "convergence vector." Halfway Hold had been hers on Earth – now mine. A stabilised subdomain between Earth and the Threshold. And… the well was now my Bayteran half of the circuit.

Which meant if I wanted to remain anchored to my own existence—if I wanted any hope of keeping the Veil stable—I guess I was going to need to start building around it. Literally. Metaphysically. Structurally.

However, before I could think too hard about the implications of all that, a low groan from Lia snapped me back to something far more immediate. Right. Theory later. Crisis now.

The moss beneath her had darkened even further, and while her bandages hadn't fully bled through, they weren't far off. She was still not healing.

Right. So if I was in a base-builder sim with existential stakes, surely I had access to some kind of menu? A build order? A tech tree of minor civic amenities?

And the System, ever helpful when least prepared for it, obliged.

[System Update: Management Protocol Engaged]

Accessing: Settlement Menu [Well of Ascension]

Tier: Base Level (Village – Unnamed)

Available Construction Slots: 2 (Basic)

Unlockable Structures:

Storage Shelter – Level 1

→ +10 Storage Capacity (Wood/Stone/Food)

→ Provides limited shelter (Minor Morale Boost)

Signal Cairn – Level 1

→ Marks territory for allies and adventurers

→ Increases chance of visitors

Medical Hut – Level 1

→ Enables passive Health Regeneration for assigned residents

→ May clear minor Debuffs over time

→ Crafting Station: Basic Poultices

→ Staff Required: 1 [Healer Class Recommended]

Okay. Now we were talking.

A Medical Hut. Exactly the kind of thing I'd hope to find listed on a building spreadsheet somewhere between urgentand bloody obvious. Just seeing it there almost made me sag with relief.

I skimmed the requirements:

Structure: Medical Hut (Level 1)

- Available Build Slot: 1

- Wood: 1

- Stone: 1

- Construction Time: 30 seconds (Unassisted)

- Effect: Enables basic passive healing to assigned units. Reduces recovery time from Wounds, Fatigue, and Minor Debuffs. Requires no specialist to function at Tier 1.

Okay, so I had neither a building workforce nor any tools. Nor any blueprints, spirit levels, permit applications, or whatever else usually went into getting a structure built on short notice without violating several hundred health and safety regulations. And I certainly didn't have the requisite experience. My construction CV consisted of assembling one wobbly IKEA wardrobe, a garden shed I'd mostly supervised, and a Year 9 D&T project where the box lid didn't fit because I'd measured everything backwards.

Dad had never really recovered from that last one.

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He'd wanted Meddings and Son to be more than a name on the side of the van. He'd wanted me to be swinging hammers, laying bricks, and be shoulder-deep in mortar with the proud, callused hands of 'a man who built things.' Dad hadn't wanted a kid with soft fingers, sharp eyes, and a talent for slipping away just before it was time to clean the cement mixer.

So, yeah. I reckon I was the least qualified Project Manager this muddy little corner of Bayteran had ever seen.

However, it didn't look like there was much in the way of actual requirements needed here. The System wasn't exactly asking for a master artisan, it just needed one unit of Wood and one of Stone. That's it. Like it was following the logic of some base-builder from the late noughties: low poly, low budget, click-to-deploy kind of stuff.

Except—I checked my inventory and frowned. I had no entries for usable Wood or Stone. Mind you, there was plenty lying around in the clearing. That fight with Balethor had thrown enough splinters, broken branches, and shattered supports around to fill a wagon. One of the old stone walls flanking the well had even collapsed during the fight.

I stood, crossed the clearing, and laid a hand on one of the thicker fallen tree branches which vanished. Just like that. No sparkle. No swirl. Just gone, and with a muted ding in my ear.

> [Resource Acquired: Wood x1]

> Source: Local Environment

> Integration Successful – Item added to Inventory

A second later, I did the same with part of the collapsed wall. Another ping.

> [Resource Acquired: Stone x1]

> Source: Local Environment

> Integration Successful – Item added to Inventory

"Okay," I said, "Now we're talking." If Bayteran wanted to reward initiative with some good old-fashioned video game logic, I wasn't about to complain. I moved back toward the centre of the clearing, eyes on Lia's increasingly worrying condition. If this place was mine now then I needed to start acting like it. Threshold Anchor or not, I wasn't about to let the first person who bled for this place die in it.

I focused on the notification for the Medical Hut and narrowed my eyes at the blueprint shimmering above the ground.

"Build it," I said aloud—not because I thought the System needed to hear me, but because sometimes you've got to speak something into the world to make it real.

> [Construction Initiated: Medical Hut (Level 1)]

> Location: [Well of Ascension – Inner Clearing]

> Resources Consumed: Wood x1 | Stone x1

> Estimated Build Time: 00:00:30

> Assistance: None Detected

> Structural Integrity: 100%

> Threshold Alignment: Compatible

> Warden Credit Applied: +1 Construction Efficiency

A low, subdued explosion rippled outward from where I'd mentally tapped the build zone—just to the left of the broken wall—followed by a strange, hollow pop like a soap bubble collapsing through dimensions. For a moment, the air burned. Not like heat haze. More like a memory trying to remember what shape it was meant to be.

Then it began.

Wood slotted itself into place with the neat, satisfying logic of a jigsaw puzzle being completed by unseen hands. Planks twisted out of the ether, turning end over end before slamming into alignment. Moss peeled itself politely aside. Stones shifted with groans and connected themselves up. I wasn't sure about how one log and a piece of rock transformed into all of this, but I wasn't about to complain.

And then, like it had always been there—but had somehow just forgotten to finish itself—a small shelter stood in the clearing. It was a single-room structure of rough-hewn timber and stone, with a sloped roof and a door that hadn't quite decided whether it wanted to stay on its hinges. But it was real and it had the label, Medical Hut above it

I gathered Lia up and staggered slightly under her weight. She certainly wasn't light—all that solid muscle and heavy armour rarely would be—but I had some fresh Strength in the bank and a truckload of adrenaline in the overdraft. My arms locked around her automatically, the movement familiar in a way I didn't care to dwell on. There'd been too many bodies in too many alleys I'd had to move. But this one still had breath in her so she wasn't dead weight. Not yet.

And in that still counted.

Her body was a mess, though. Torn leather, snapped straps, red-soaked padding, and more bruises than armour. Balethor had really gone to town on her. I didn't let myself linger on the state of her wounds. Not right now. I needed to get her moving.

Carrying her, I ducked into the freshly constructed Medical Hut—though calling it a "hut" was pushing the branding a little. 'Shepherd's cabin' was closer to the truth, as it was squat and narrow, with a curved roof and walls that still smelled of the summoned timber. The doorway was just wide enough for me to shoulder through without jarring her too badly.

Inside, the furnishings were basic: a single cot, a small basin of water, and a shelf with what looked like a strip of linen and a few pots of herbs. This was apparently what passed for a healing station in the land of make-do and try not to die too loudly. There were no glowing runes, or helpful fae healing sprites, just four walls, a bed, and my profound hope Lia had enough health regen to not need anything flashier.

I laid Lia down as gently as I could, easing her onto the cot, and adjusting her arms and legs so they rested as naturally as they could. I left her sword with her, resting it against her side with her fingers loosely curled around the grip like she might wake any second and swing it on reflex.

Worryingly, she looked more like a statue than a person now. The tomb effigy of a knight in state carved by someone who wasn't quite ready to say goodbye. That wasn't an especially comforting thought.

[System Notification: Lia Jorgensdottir has been Stabilised]

→ Health: 2/72

→ Regeneration: Passive | Source: Medical Hut (Lvl 1)

→ Status: Critical (Stable)

→ Passive Traits: On Hold pending recovery

→ Major Debuffs: Active

→ Restoration Progress: 1% / hour

Stabilised. One of those words that sounds hopeful if you don't think about it too hard. Hospitals love it. It always struck me that being dead was pretty stable too . . .

So, that message didn't mean that she was fine. Not even close. But at least now I could stop holding my breath every time she exhaled. From the look of the hut's effects, the healing was going to be slow—glacial, even. Like someone gently bailing out a sinking ship with a teacup.

There wasn't room for me to wait in there with her, and stepping out of the hut, I felt a strange, pressing weight lift from my chest. I had no idea how long it would take Lia to fully recover or if she even could in a Level 1 Medical Hut, but at least I'd bought some time. That was about all I could do right now. And if there was one thing I reckoned I could get on board with right now, it was having a bit more time.

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