On the second morning under the Kingdom, Kazuto discovered the first problem with infinite, perfect safety: it had a very clear edge.
He stood with Mavis, Doom, and Balmond at what they estimated was the boundary of the twenty-mile radius. The golden light from the hovering city above was just as bright here, the air just as still and peaceful. But ten feet in front of them, the world went back to normal. Grey, dusty Scablands under a pale sky, with a warm, dry wind blowing.
It was like looking at a painting placed right next to a window to the real world.
"The effect is… absolute," Mavis said, holding out her slate. A line she had drawn in the dirt with her stylus was exactly at the border of the light. "No gradient. No weakening. It is either 'Kingdom' or 'Not Kingdom.' The transition is instant."
Doom picked up a pebble from within the golden light and tossed it across the line. It landed in the normal dirt with a small puff of dust. Nothing happened to it. "So things can leave."
"But can they come back in?" Balmond asked. He was eyeing the normal world with a mix of old familiarity and new distrust.
Kazuto stepped forward, putting one foot across the line. The moment his boot touched the normal ground, he felt it. Not danger, but the absence of the Kingdom's assurance. The wind felt sharper. The silence of the safe zone was replaced by the vast, empty noise of the wilderness. It was unsettling, like stepping out of a climate-controlled building into a storm.
He pulled his foot back. The profound, quiet safety washed over him again. "Coming back in is fine. But you feel the difference."
"That's our new wall," Mavis said, tapping the line in the dirt. "An invisible, vertical plane of conceptual law. The question is, what happens if something hostile tries to cross in?"
As if on cue, a Scablands vulture, circling high above in the normal sky, swooped down. Its beady eyes were fixed on a fat, lazy beetle crawling just inside the golden light. It dove, claws outstretched.
The moment its talons passed the invisible border into the Kingdom's domain, its predatory intent met the law of 'No Harm.'
The effect was not violent. The vulture didn't hit a wall. It simply… forgot how to dive. Its wings flapped awkwardly, its claws went limp, and it landed in a clumsy, baffled heap on the ground next to the beetle, which continued crawling, unharmed. The vulture stood up, shook its head, looked at the beetle, then at its own claws, utterly confused. After a moment, it hopped a few times and took off again, flying back into the normal world with what looked like embarrassment.
"Interesting," Mavis murmured, scribbling. "The effect neutralizes hostile action at the moment of entry. The creature itself is unharmed, just… discouraged."
"So the border defends itself," Doom said. "Good. Saves us building another wall."
"But it doesn't stop them from being just outside," Kazuto said, looking at the barren landscape. "They can camp there. Shout insults. Block the view." He thought of the other Seats. "Or worse, try to figure out a way around the rule."
They walked back towards the basin, now the de facto capital of this new, safe territory. The walk itself was strange. Twenty miles was huge. They passed rocky outcrops, dried creek beds, and patches of stubborn thornbrush—all now bathed in eternal, peaceful gold. They saw more animals: a family of rodent-like creatures foraging without a care, a snake sunning itself on a rock, completely unconcerned by their approach.
"The wildlife is moving in," Mavis noted. "Drawn by the safety, or perhaps the light. This will have ecological impacts."
"More neighbors," Kazuto said. "We'll need rules about that too."
When they returned to the basin, they found a scene of domestic absurdity. Talene was standing in the middle of Ban's kitchen area, holding a knife. Ban was hovering nearby, looking more nervous than when she'd been trying to unravel reality.
"The blade… severs," Talene was saying, turning the kitchen knife over in her hands. "A focused, linear application of force. It is a very small, very precise burn."
"It's for chopping onions," Ban said carefully.
"I understand." She looked at an onion on the cutting board. She focused, her brow furrowing in immense concentration. She brought the knife down. It was a slow, terribly clumsy chop, more of a crush than a cut. The onion squished.
Ban winced. "You have to let the sharpness do the work. You're pushing."
"I am used to being the sharpness," Talene muttered, but she tried again. This time, it was a little better. She managed a ragged slice.
From across the basin, the overseer in its cube watched this scene—a Seat of the True Monarchs learning to chop vegetables—and slowly banged its head against the transparent wall.
Kazuto gathered the core group that evening: Mavis, Doom, Ban, Elder Leon, and Balmond. He even gestured for Talene to join them. She hesitated, then sat on the very edge of the circle, as if ready to bolt.
"We have three immediate issues," Kazuto said, getting straight to it. "One: defining the border. What do we call it? How do we mark it? Two: internal rules. We have animals moving in, and eventually, more people will come. We need guidelines that aren't just 'don't hurt anyone,' because that's already taken care of. Three: her." He nodded towards Talene.
Everyone looked at her. She met their gaze, her chin raised defiantly, but the effect was ruined by the fleck of onion skin stuck to her sleeve.
"What about me?" she asked.
"You're a Seat," Mavis said. "You disappearing into our territory will not go unnoticed. The other Seats will investigate. We need to decide if you are a prisoner, a guest, or… something else."
Talene looked at her hands. "I cannot leave. Out there, I am the Black Phoenix. In here, I am a woman who cannot light a candle. If I step outside, I am a target for every rival and underling I ever terrorized." She gave a short, bitter laugh. "Your mercy is a very clever prison."
"It's not a prison if the door is open," Kazuto said. "But you're right. Outside, you have problems. In here, you have to figure out what you are without your fire." He paused. "You can stay. As a guest. But guests contribute. Ban needs a kitchen assistant who doesn't massacre the onions."
Talene stared at him, then at Ban. She gave a slow, stiff nod.
"Good," Kazuto said. "Now, the border. We need a name. Something official."
"The Edge," Balmond grunted.
"The Line of Mercy," Elder Leon suggested.
"The Safe Horizon," Mavis offered.
"The 'Do-Not-Pass-Go Line,'" Ban muttered, checking his stew.
Kazuto considered. "We'll call it the Perimeter for now. Mavis, I want you to map its exact course. Find any features—springs, caves, mineral deposits—inside our territory. Doom, see if any of the new rocks are useful for building. Balmond, you're on patrol. Not to fight, but to observe. See what the wildlife is doing, if anything strange happens at the edge."
He turned to the group. "We're not just a hiding place anymore. We're a nation with territory. That means we have responsibilities. And a lot of paperwork we haven't invented yet."
As the meeting broke up, Hat the goblin scurried over to Kazuto. It was holding a small, crude map drawn on a piece of dried fungus. It pointed to a spot just outside the golden light, then mimed many, many feet walking. Then it pointed to the sky and made a swooping, scary motion with its arms.
"More people coming," Kazuto translated. "From the direction of the scary sky-lady's home." He looked at Mavis. "Refugees. Fleeing the Black Phoenix's domain, drawn by the rumors or the giant glowing city in the sky."
Mavis sighed, the weight of new logistics settling on her. "We'll need a welcoming committee. And more housing. And significantly more onions."
Kazuto looked up at the Kingdom, glowing gently against the deepening twilight. The delivery was complete, but the unpacking had just begun. They had a border to manage, a former tyrant to rehabilitate, refugees on the way, and a fox that thought it owned the place.
He took the foundation stone from his pocket, rolling its smooth weight in his palm. The first brick was laid. Now they had to build everything else on top of it, without accidentally creating a zoning nightmare.
The Safe Haven Federation was open for business. The first Yelp review was going to be from a very confused vulture.