The Scablands were, in a word, ugly. The ground was a patchwork of hard, cracked clay and sharp grey rock. Stubborn, thorny bushes were the only plants that seemed to enjoy living there. The water from the "bitter wells" Doom mentioned tasted like someone had soaked pennies in it. The wind had a constant, whining drone as it whipped through the rocky spires.
It was perfect.
Kazuto stood atop a low, flat-topped mesa, looking down at the natural bowl-shaped depression below. It was about the size of a few city blocks. One of the bitter wells—more of a seep—bubbled in the center. Steep, rocky walls rose on three sides. The only easy approach was a narrow gully to the west.
"It's defensible," Doom said, coming to stand beside him. "But it's also a trap. No food. Bad water. Nowhere to run if something stronger than a wyvern comes."
"It's a start," Kazuto said. "First, we make it safe. Then we figure out the rest."
Safe. Right. How do you make a hole in a wasteland safe?
He set down his two boxes—the unopened package and the golden prison-cube—with a grunt of relief. The dwarves were filtering into the basin below, collapsing with exhaustion. They'd made it. Now the real work began.
His first order was simple. "Everyone, gather every rock you can carry that's bigger than your fist. Pile them by the gully entrance."
The dwarves, too tired to question, obeyed. It gave them a task, a way to contribute. Within an hour, a sizable heap of jagged stones sat near the narrow entrance to their bowl.
Kazuto walked up to the pile. He stared at the gully, a natural bottleneck about ten feet wide. He needed a door. A gate that couldn't be forced.
« NOTICE: HOST DESIRES PERIMETER SECURITY. »
« SUGGESTION: UTILIZE [DIVINE OMNI BARRIER] IN STRUCTURAL MODE. »
Structural mode. He pictured not a floating cube, but a wall. A solid, seamless wall of that same impossible material, anchored to the earth. He focused on the gully's mouth, from one rock face to the other, from the ground up to about twenty feet high.
He concentrated. Barrier. Wall. Seal this entrance.
The air in the gully shimmered. A flat, perfectly transparent plane snapped into existence, filling the gap from wall to wall, ground to sky. It was utterly clear, like super-thick glass, but without reflection. It just… stopped light in a subtle, wrong way.
A young dwarf, curious, picked up a pebble and threw it at the barrier.
Tink.
The pebble hit the surface and dropped straight down. It didn't bounce. It didn't crack the barrier. It was as if it had hit the side of a mountain and simply given up.
Doom walked right up to it, placing his palms against the surface. He pushed. Nothing. He leaned his full weight into it. It didn't flex a millimeter. "By the forge… it's solid. More than solid."
"It's a door," Kazuto said. "And only I can open it." He focused, and a person-sized section of the barrier in the center simply vanished, creating an opening. He stepped through, then willed it closed again behind him. Seamless once more.
The dwarves inside the basin stared at the now-sealed entrance, then at Kazuto standing outside of it. A mix of awe and anxiety crossed their faces. They were locked in. With him.
He created another opening, stepped back inside, and sealed it. "It works both ways. It's not a prison. It's a… loading dock door."
The metaphor seemed to help. They nodded, understanding a 'door' more than a 'magical ward.'
Shelter was next. There were no trees for wood here. But there were rocks, and dwarves were miners.
"Can you dig?" Kazuto asked Doom. "Not a mine. Rooms. Into the north wall there. Simple squares, tunnels connecting them. Like… basement apartments."
Doom's eyes lit up for the first time since they'd met. "Dig? Lad, you're speaking our birth language." He turned and bellowed. "Borin! Rolf! Get the picks! We're making a proper warren!"
The sound of rhythmic picking soon echoed through the basin. It was a good sound. A productive sound.
Kazuto left them to it. He picked up the golden prison-box and carried it to a remote corner of the basin, placing it against a rock wall. He focused and expanded it back to a five-foot cube, letting the overseer have some room. The creature was curled up, asleep or pretending.
One problem at a time.
He walked to the center, near the bitter well, and sat on a rock. He placed the mysterious package on his lap. The "FRAGILE" stamp was starting to fade from travel.
What are you? Why did you bring me here?
He held it up to his ear. Nothing. He gave it another gentle shake. The solid thunk inside gave no clues.
« ANALYSIS: OBJECT BEARS NO MANA SIGNATURE. NO ENCHANTMENTS DETECTED. MATERIAL: PROCESSED CELLULOSE (CARDBOARD), INK, UNKNOWN INTERNAL COMPONENT. »
"So you're just a box," he muttered. "Great."
The sound of picks stopped abruptly. Doom's voice rang out, sharp with tension. "Scout! At the ridge!"
Kazuto was on his feet in an instant, the package tucked under his arm. He jogged to where Doom and a few others were pointing up at the eastern rim of the basin, about a hundred feet above.
There, silhouetted against the grey sky, was a small, greenish figure. A goblin. It wasn't the same ones from the forest. This one wore a crude helmet and held a spear. It peered down at the activity in the basin, then ducked back out of sight.
"Spying for its tribe," Doom growled. "They'll see we're few, weak, and setting up a home. They'll come to raid. Nasty little thieves, goblins. Not strong in a fight, but there's always more of them."
Kazuto felt a cold knot in his stomach. He couldn't be everywhere. The barrier wall would keep them out of the basin, but the dwarves would need to leave eventually to find food, better water. They'd be picked off.
He needed to send a message. A clear, non-violent, absolutely confusing message.
"Stay here," he told Doom. "Keep digging. I'm going to have a talk with our neighbors."
He walked to the sheer basin wall below where the scout had been. He looked up. No handholds. He looked at the barrier sealing the gully. Could he…?
He focused on the wall in front of him. Instead of a flat plane, he imagined a single, small platform of the barrier material, just big enough for one foot, jutting from the stone about three feet up. It appeared with a soft shimmer.
He stepped onto it. It held firm. He created another one, four feet up and to the left. A stepping stone.
Staircase mode. Okay.
Slowly, methodically, he created a path of floating, invisible platforms up the cliff face. He climbed, each step solid as bedrock. To anyone watching from below, it looked like he was walking on air.
He reached the rim and pulled himself over. He was on a rocky plateau. About fifty yards away, the goblin scout was running full-tilt towards a larger group clustered around a sickly-looking bush. There were maybe twenty of them, all armed with sharp sticks and rocks.
They saw him. A chattering cry went up. They fanned out, approaching warily. They looked just as hungry and desperate as the dwarves.
The scout jabbered, pointing at Kazuto, then miming someone digging, then pointing back at the basin. Rich ones! Digging! Weak!
The largest goblin, wearing a necklace of rodent skulls, stepped forward. It brandished a club studded with rusty nails. It shrieked a challenge.
Kazuto didn't move. He set the cardboard package down carefully at his feet. He put his hands in his pockets.
The goblin leader didn't like being ignored. It screamed and charged, club raised.
« NOTICE: HOSTILE INTENT DETECTED. »
Kazuto didn't activate a dome or a wall. He thought of something more specific. A single, tiny, incredibly dense barrier. The size of a coin. He placed it directly in front of the charging goblin's big toe.
The goblin's foot, mid-stride, slammed into the immovable, invisible point.
Physics took over.
Its forward momentum transferred instantly into an upward spin. The goblin yelped, its club flying from its grip, as it somersaulted head-over-heels through the air. It landed flat on its back with a heavy whump, the wind knocked out of it.
The other goblins froze. Their leader lay on the ground, wheezing, staring at the sky in profound confusion.
Kazuto walked forward, stepping around the dazed leader. He stopped in the middle of the goblin band. They tightened their circle around him, hissing, but none attacked. They'd seen what happened.
He looked at their thin arms, their sunken eyes. He saw the empty cooking pot by the bush. They weren't monsters. They were just… another struggling delivery, hopelessly lost.
He pointed back towards the basin. Then he pointed at them. He made a digging motion, then a eating motion. He shook his head 'no' to the fighting. He pointed at the basin again, then made a welcoming gesture.
Work with them. Share. No fighting.
The goblins stared. They looked at each other. The concept was so foreign it took a full minute to process. The leader sat up, clutching its chest, looking from Kazuto to its own tribe.
Kazuto reached into his satchel. He pulled out his last half of a Tokyo protein bar, still in its wrapper. He unwrapped it, broke off a tiny piece, and ate it. He offered the rest to the nearest goblin.
The goblin sniffed it, terrified. It nibbled. Its yellow eyes went wide. It devoured the piece and looked at the rest in Kazuto's hand with desperate hope.
Kazuto placed the rest of the bar on the ground. He pointed again to the basin, then to the bar. Food. Down there.
He turned his back on them, a calculated risk. He walked back to the cliff edge, created his first invisible step, and began his descent, leaving the tribe of goblins in a silent, bewildered huddle.
Back in the basin, Doom ran up. "What happened? We heard a shriek!"
"I tripped their leader," Kazuto said, brushing dust off his pants. "And I offered them a job."
"A job? With goblins?"
"We need scouts. Foragers. They know this land. We have security, a plan for shelter. We have," he gestured to the digging dwarves, "skilled labor. They have… local knowledge. It's a partnership."
Doom looked horrified, then thoughtful. "They'll steal everything that isn't nailed down."
"Nothing here is worth stealing yet," Kazuto said. "And I think I can make the concept of 'stealing from us' very… physically confusing for them."
He looked up at the rim. A single goblin head peeked over, then ducked back.
It wasn't an army. It wasn't a kingdom. It was a desperate, messy, frankly absurd start.
Doom followed his gaze. He sighed, a long, weary sound that held a hint of grudging amusement. "So. What do we call this… partnership? This place?"
Kazuto looked around at the barren basin, the digging dwarves, the invisible wall, the golden prison-cube in the corner, and the unopened package at his feet. He thought of his old life, of routes and manifests and the simple goal of getting a package from A to B.
He gave a small, tired smile.
"Let's call it 'Delivery.' For now."