The morning sun filtered through the half-closed door of the children's room, casting gentle rays across the sleeping forms of his cousins.
Caspian lay sprawled across his bed, one arm dangling over the edge, while Orion remained curled beneath his blankets. Neil sat up quietly, careful not to disturb their peaceful slumber as he slipped from his bed and padded barefoot toward the door.
The lobby greeted him with its familiar warmth, bathed in the ethereal golden glow of the everlasting lanterns.
The light danced across the stone surfaces, creating a dreamlike atmosphere that made the early morning feel magical. Neil settled into his usual spot at the stone table, the cool surface familiar beneath his palms.
He made a brief journey to the kitchen, returning moments later with a wooden cup filled with warm water from the drinking barrel. The liquid warmed his throat as he sipped slowly, allowing the peaceful solitude to wash over him.
These quiet morning moments had become precious to him—a time for reflection and planning before the household stirred to life.
Awakened by the warm drink and stillness, Neil opened his inventory interface. The familiar blue glow illuminated his face as he surveyed his accumulated resources.
[ Inventory]- click to open
Stone blocks filled multiple slots, their gray surfaces promising endless construction possibilities. Dark oak wood planks sat neatly organized beside iron tools and various other materials he'd gathered during his recent expeditions.
A surge of excitement coursed through him as he counted his reserves. Today was the day—he finally had enough materials to begin his ambitious underground project.
The thought of creating something entirely new, something that would surprise and delight his family, made his heart race with anticipation.
The excitement was so overwhelming that breakfast seemed irrelevant, and waiting for his family to wake felt impossible.
Neil returned his wooden cup to the kitchen, his movements quick and purposeful as he headed straight for the main room that connected the lobby to the outside world.
The main room served as their equipment storage area, where outdoor gear, weapons, and tools found their designated places.
Neil's gaze immediately fell upon the empty space on the right side of the entrance—an area he'd deliberately kept clear with future plans in mind.
What was once intended as additional storage space now seemed the perfect location for his underground hall's entrance.
Drawing his iron pickaxe from his inventory, Neil positioned himself carefully, leaving two blocks of space horizontally from the right side of the gate.
The tool felt solid and familiar in his hands as he raised it above his head and brought it down against the stone floor.
Crack!
The sound echoed through the room as the first block shattered and dissolved into his inventory.
Again and again, Neil swung the pickaxe, each strike precise and methodical. Eight stone blocks disappeared under his systematic work, leaving a perfect rectangular opening in the floor.
Switching to his iron shovel, Neil prepared for the more delicate work ahead. The Artifact's unique physics meant that constructed blocks could defy gravity, floating in mid-air regardless of their weight or the absence of support beneath them.
This eliminated any worry about the house collapsing above his excavation site.
However, natural materials like the sand and earth beneath the foundation still obeyed real-world physics.
Cave-ins remained a genuine threat, requiring careful planning and methodical execution.
Neil adopted a conservative approach, deciding to dig down only two blocks at a time before clearing the entire area at that level.
The work was slow but steady. With each scoop, sand dissolved into his inventory, the loose material disappearing seamlessly as he carved deeper into the earth.
The Artifact's inventory system made excavation remarkably clean—no debris scattered around his workspace, no dangerous accumulation to worry about.
After what felt like hours, Neil had cleared a full four-block depth under the house. The excavated space was impressive in its scope, large enough to accommodate his entire family with room for expansion.
But the raw excavation was only the beginning—proper construction required reinforcement and structure.
Neil knew that without walls, the loose sand surrounding his excavation would eventually collapse inward, undoing all his careful work. Moving to pages one and three of his inventory, he transferred stone blocks and dark oak wood to his quick-access slots, preparing for the construction phase.
He ran mental calculations as he planned the framework. Twenty-nine pieces of dark oak wood converted into planks would provide the structural support he needed.
The house floor above would serve as his underground hall's ceiling, eliminating the need for additional roofing materials.
Neil began with the corners, placing four wooden blocks vertically at each corner of the excavated space. The blocks rose from the sandy floor to meet the house's foundation above, creating sturdy pillars that would bear the structural load.
Between these corner posts, he placed twenty-five horizontal blocks, connecting the pillars into a unified framework that outlined his future hall.
With the wooden skeleton complete, Neil turned to the walls themselves. Stone by stone, he filled the framework, each block fitting perfectly into place with satisfying precision.
The work was meditative—the repetitive placement of blocks allowing his mind to wander while his hands worked automatically.
Seventy-five stones filled the first wall. Another seventy-five completed the second.
By the time he'd finished all four walls, three hundred stone blocks had disappeared from his inventory, transformed into the solid barriers that would protect his underground space from sand intrusion.
Standing back to admire his work, Neil felt a deep sense of accomplishment. The stone walls rose around him like the foundation of a castle, promising security and permanence.
But checking his remaining resources brought him back to earth—only one hundred and fifty stone blocks remained in his inventory.
Quick mental arithmetic revealed the sobering truth. The main floor would require approximately six hundred stones to complete, far more than his current reserves. The ambitious scope of his project would have to be scaled back, at least temporarily.
Rather than abandon the work entirely, Neil decided to focus on completing smaller sections that were within his means. The stairway area, requiring only fifty stones for the entrance, would be manageable.
Twenty-five stone blocks formed two neat horizontal rows beneath where his stairs would eventually lead. The foundation was solid and level, ready to support the weight of anyone who would traverse between the main floor and his underground hall.
Setting up his stonecutter on the newly laid floor, Neil converted eight regular stone blocks into stair blocks for creating a proper descent, each one precisely shaped to provide comfortable footing during the transition between floors.
The installation process required careful attention to placement and angle. Neil positioned two stair blocks at the top level—the underground hall's ceiling, or the house floor.
From there, he continued placing pairs of stairs diagonally downward, each step following the next in perfect geometric progression.
When the final stair block clicked into place, Neil stepped back to survey his achievement.
The stone stairway descended elegantly from the main floor into his underground hall, creating a seamless connection between the two levels.
The craftsmanship was solid and professional, something that would serve his family well for years to come.
Unknown to Neil, as he put the finishing touches on his stairway construction, life was stirring throughout the rest of the house.
Bedroom doors were opening as his family members emerged for their morning routines, voices beginning to fill the lobby with familiar greetings and conversations.
"Good morning, everyone," came his mother's voice, warm with the contentment of a peaceful night's sleep.
"Morning, Maya," Seraphina replied, her own voice carrying the slight hoarseness that often accompanied the first words of the day.
The usual bustle of morning preparation began—footsteps moving between rooms, the soft sounds of people washing and dressing, the gradual increase in conversation as everyone became fully awake.
It was during this routine check-in with family members that Neil's absence first became apparent.
"Is Neil still sleeping?" Maya asked, realizing she hadn't seen her son among the gathering children.
Lyra, who had emerged from the shared bedroom, shook her head. "No, Neil wasn't in the room. We thought he had gone out already."
The response brought a frown to Maya's face. Neil's usual morning routine was predictable—he typically sat at the stone table in the lobby, quietly sipping warm water while he planned his day. Her eyes swept the lobby, confirming his absence from his customary spot.
"Let me check the kitchen," she murmured, moving toward the kitchen. But the kitchen was empty, showing no signs of recent use beyond Neil's earlier visit to collect his morning drink.
"There's no one inside," Maya announced, returning to the lobby with growing concern.
The declaration shifted the mood of the morning gathering. Seraphina's maternal instincts immediately engaged as she turned toward her daughter. "Lyra, are you sure you didn't see Neil inside?"
"Mother, I'm telling the truth," Lyra replied with the slight indignation of a child whose honesty was being questioned. "If you don't believe me, you can ask Caspian and big brother Orion."
Seraphina's gaze moved to the two boys, who both nodded in confirmation of Lyra's account.
The worry in the room became palpable—Neil never left the house without informing someone of his plans. His reliability in this regard was one of the many ways he'd earned his family's trust.
Grandpa Eldrin's voice cut through the growing anxiety. "Okay, everyone, look around the house. See if he's somewhere else."
The family dispersed with purpose, each person taking responsibility for searching different areas. Footsteps echoed through corridors as they checked bedrooms and any other space where Neil might reasonably be found.
Orion volunteered to search the main room, his longer stride carrying him quickly toward the room. As he crossed the threshold, his eyes immediately fell upon something that shouldn't have been there—a large, rectangular opening in the stone floor.
The hole was substantial, clearly the result of deliberate excavation rather than natural formation or accident.
Orion stared at the opening, his mind racing through possible explanations. None of them were particularly comforting, especially given Neil's mysterious disappearance.
Rather than investigate the opening alone, Orion decided that adult supervision was required. He hurried back to the lobby, where the rest of the family was beginning to reassemble after their fruitless searches.
"Did you find him, Orion?" Maya asked immediately, hope evident in her voice.
Orion shook his head gravely. "No, but I found something else that may be related to Neil's disappearance."
The silence that followed was heavy with anticipation and dread. Everyone waited for him to continue, their faces reflecting the worry that had been building since Neil's absence was discovered.
"There's a big hole in the main room," Orion announced. "Maybe Neil fell in it."
The words sent a chill through the assembled family members. The adults exchanged meaningful glances, their parental fears immediately conjuring images of Neil trapped or injured in some underground cavity.
Without discussion, the adults reached a silent consensus. They needed to see this hole for themselves and determine how and why it appeared, if anything, it might reveal about Neil's whereabouts.
The group moved as one toward the main room, their footsteps unusually quiet as they approached what they perceived as a potentially dangerous situation. When they entered the room, the excavated opening was immediately visible—a dark rectangle cut into the familiar stone floor.
Cautiously, the family members approached the edge of the hole. The opening descended into shadow, its depth impossible to determine from their position above.
Lyra's face had gone pale as she stared into the dark opening. Her imagination, always active and dramatic, seized upon the most fantastical explanation she could conceive.
"It must be a land ghost," she whispered, her voice trembling with theatrical fear, "like the ones Neil tells stories about! They dig holes to take children and make them their dinner."
The suggestion was met with a collective sigh of exasperation. While her family appreciated Lyra's creativity, her tendency toward dramatic interpretations was well-known and often unhelpful in serious situations.
"Lyra, can you be serious for once?" Seraphina said with gentle firmness, though her own voice carried an undertone of worry that her daughter's wild theory couldn't entirely dispel.
Seeing that no one was willing to entertain her ghost hypothesis, Lyra fell silent, though her expression suggested she remained convinced of her supernatural explanation.
The family stood in worried silence around the mysterious opening, each lost in their own thoughts about what might have happened to Neil. The morning that had begun so peacefully had transformed into something far more troubling.
Then, cutting through their contemplation, came the sound of footsteps. The noise seemed to originate from somewhere below them, echoing up from the depths of the excavated space. The family froze, every eye fixed on the dark opening as they strained to listen.
The footsteps stopped abruptly, creating a silence that felt even more ominous than the mysterious sounds had been. Hearts raced as imaginations conjured explanations for what they were experiencing.
Before anyone could speak or move, something extraordinary happened. A stone stair appeared at the edge of the opening, its angled surface catching the light from the room's lanterns. Then another stair appeared, and another, creating a descending pathway that led down into the darkness below.
The family stood transfixed, hardly daring to breathe. The rational parts of their minds knew that blocks could be placed and moved by human hands, but the timing and mysterious nature of the construction made it feel supernatural. Could Lyra's ghost theory actually hold some truth?
The footsteps resumed, growing gradually closer. With each approaching step, hearts beat faster and breathing became more shallow. Whatever was coming up those stairs would soon reveal itself, and none of them felt prepared for what they might see.
A shadow began to emerge from the dark opening, taking on human form as it ascended the newly created stairs. The figure moved with a familiar posture, though the dramatic context made identification uncertain until the final moment.
Neil's head appeared at the top of the stairs, his expression cheerful and satisfied with his morning's work. As he stepped onto the main floor and looked around, his demeanor changed instantly.
The sight that greeted him was almost comical—his entire family clustered around the excavated area, faces showing a mixture of relief, confusion, and lingering apprehension. Their expressions suggested they'd been preparing for something far more dramatic than his simple appearance.
"What happened, everyone?" Neil asked, genuinely puzzled by their intense reactions and obvious distress.
Before anyone else could formulate a response, Lyra asked. "Hey, Neil, did the ghost not like your taste?"
Neil rolled his eyes at his cousin's ghost obsession. He was too confused to know what to say.
His mother stepped forward, relief evident in her voice as she began to recount the morning's events. She described their discovery of his absence, the systematic search of the house, Orion's discovery of the mysterious hole, and their growing fear that something terrible had happened to him.
As Maya spoke, understanding dawned on Neil's face. He realized how his innocent construction project had been misinterpreted as evidence of something sinister. The explanation was simple once he understood their perspective.
"I was working with a torch for light," Neil explained. "After I finished crafting the stairs, I put both the stonecutter and the torch back in my inventory. There was enough light coming from the room's lantern for me to see and place the stairs, but from up here, maybe you couldn't see me working below."
The revelation transformed worry into amazement as his family began to grasp the scope of what he had accomplished. Neil gestured toward the stairway with evident pride.
"I'm building an underground hall for our family," he announced. "Would you like to see what I've built?"
Curiosity overcame their recent anxiety as Neil retrieved his torch from his inventory and began descending the stone stairs. The warm light cast dancing shadows on the walls as the family followed him down into his underground hall.
At the bottom of the stairs, the torchlight revealed the impressive scope of Neil's morning work.
The underground hall stretched before them with solid stone walls rising to the wooden framework above. The space was substantial enough to accommodate their entire family comfortably, with clear potential for future expansion and development.
"What are you planning to use it for?" several voices asked simultaneously, their words echoing in the stone chamber.
Neil's mysterious smile was barely visible in the flickering torchlight. The question he had been anticipating finally arrived, and he was ready with his answer.
"It's a secret," he replied, his tone suggesting depths of planning that he wasn't yet ready to reveal.
Lyra's immediate pout at his non-answer drew chuckles from the others, but Neil remained steadfast in maintaining the mystery of his vision for the space.
After everyone had thoroughly explored the underground construction and marveled at its potential, the group returned to the ground floor, their heads still buzzing with the sight of the underground hall.
Meanwhile, Neil found himself on the receiving end of a lecture from his mother. She was furious that he hadn't told them about something this big earlier and had disappeared so suddenly, making everyone incredibly worried.
Beside him, Lyra stood with a smirk playing on her lips, clearly enjoying her cousin's predicament. A snort of laughter escaped her, and soon the others joined in, their amusement at Neil's trouble cutting through the thick tension in the room.
Realizing the distress his secretive project had caused, Neil offered a sincere apology to everyone. His genuine remorse and heartfelt words finally softened his mother's expression, the hard lines around her mouth easing as she forgave him.