Nathan returned to the farm area he was building.
His left hand no longer held a branch—instead, he gripped pieces of timber and slotted them into the floating holographic patterns.
Like a nameless giant puzzle, the wooden pieces were joined one by one, forming a flatter and more functional grid.
Every time a piece fit perfectly into place, Nathan felt a subtle satisfaction trickle through his chest.
"Feels… like an achievement," he muttered quietly. "After teaching them earlier… even if it was just the basics. Still, it felt good."
His hands kept moving. Wood to wood, line to line—like his life was also being arranged piece by piece through this project.
"I'll keep teaching them. Until…"
The words hung in the air. He had just grabbed a new piece of wood, but before placing it, he looked down for a moment.
His eyes reflexively glanced at his shaft—which, for some reason, was still hard, even though it had long returned into his pants.
He sighed.
