{Scene: Rival Sparks & A Realm Reforged}
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{Sector Six Campgrounds} – Mid-morning light filtered through the canopy, dancing across the clearing where Nico stood triumphantly atop a freshly assembled structure.
Logs interlocked in perfect geometric symmetry, reinforced with thick rope knots and treated bark slabs. A small roof. Balanced foundation. Enough for storage, shade, and flair.
Nico, proud and grinning, adjusted his headband and glanced toward Milo standing in the clearing with his party.
> "So the Hero of Light can't even build a shack?" Nico taunted casually, tossing a small stone into the air and catching it.
Milo looked over at the structure, eyes wide.
> "Whoa. That's... actually really nice."
He wasn't offended—just genuinely admiring.
But Rhea wasn't having it.
> "You could build something even better, Milo. Way better."
> "Yeah," Branton added. "It's just logs, man. C'mon."
> "Our hero has the luck of the Arch Lords," Kale said, dark-eyed. "Surely he can raise a fortress."
Milo looked at the logs around him.
Then back at the watching crowd of blue-ranked Travelers who'd gathered, sensing an event brewing.
> "Uh... I mean, I guess I could try—"
"DO IT MILO!"
"Show 'em who's boss!"
"Light Hero vs Elemental Punk!"
Aden, glasses slipping down his nose, watched the peer pressure mount.
> "This is going to go terribly."
Nico leaned back smugly, twirling a vine in his hand.
> "Let's see what luck builds."
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Elsewhere – Edge of the northern cliffs, beside the roaring waterfall
Oliver knelt on the damp stone near the river basin, water mist cooling his face. Sorrel, ears flicking under his wide dark-blue hat, caught drops into clinking glass bottles.
The sunlight refracted in the splash, casting shimmers.
> "We'll need lots of these," Sorrel mumbled, sealing another bottle. "If we're heading to Avernal."
> "Avernal?" Oliver blinked. "That's the infernal realm, right?"
> "Mhm. One side is all lava and boneheat forests—hostile even to fire-users," Sorrel replied. "Other side? Ice cliffs, frozen echoes. It's where frost-born beasts live."
Oliver held a bottle up to the light.
> "...And you're saying the realm got an update? Like, patched in forests?"
Sorrel nodded, casually serious.
> "Yeah. Every thousand years or so, Avernal's ruler reshapes the landscape. Adds new domains. Edits existing ones. Forests weren't there before. Now? There's talk of an 'Obsidian Bloom Forest' growing over magma fissures."
> "How is that even possible?" Oliver asked.
> "Realm Sovereignty," Sorrel shrugged. "When a being becomes so powerful they become the realm itself. Like how some Arch Lords are their elements. The ruler of Avernal isn't just the ruler—they are Avernal."
Oliver went silent, staring at the steaming water.
> "And we're supposed to go there?"
"Eventually," Sorrel replied. "But not without proper potions and fire resistance. And... courage, I guess."
Oliver gulped slightly.
> "Right. Courage."
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Back at camp, cheers began to swell as Milo, hands half-shaking with logs in each, nervously began stacking pieces.
A single bird feather drifted from the sky and landed on his head.
> Good luck activated...
Let the accidental construction miracle begin.
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