Chapter 30: SIX MONTHS
Tom phased through my wall at dawn.
"She's back."
I knew who immediately. "Where?"
"South approach. Walking openly. Same as before."
I grabbed my jacket. "Get Ruth. Meet at the gate."
Callisto.
Six months ago, she'd visited when we had twenty-five people and barely functional infrastructure. She'd said if we survived six months, maybe she'd believe it.
Six months had passed. We'd survived. Thrived.
Time to see if she kept her word.
She looked exactly the same. Scarred. Dangerous. One-eyed and assessing everything.
But she walked differently. Not hostile. Curious.
Ruth and I met her at the gate. Defensive positions manned but not aggressive. We'd learned from the FOH attack. Always ready. Never assuming.
"Six months," Callisto announced. "You're still here."
"We're still here," I confirmed. "Want to see what's changed?"
She studied me. Then Ruth. Then the visible compound behind us.
"Yes."
I walked her through New Haven. Let the transformation speak for itself.
Two dormitories. Sixty-five residents. Three greenhouses producing food. Medical clinic with actual equipment. Workshop where people built furniture, tools, equipment. Electrical grid powering everything.
Callisto said nothing. Just observed. Her face unreadable.
We passed the memorial wall. Two names still etched there. Victor Chen. Marcus. She paused.
"Your dead?"
"From the FOH attack. July."
"You were attacked?"
"Twenty armed men. Guns and gasoline. We defended ourselves. Two of ours died. Four of theirs. The rest fled."
"You killed humans."
"We defended our home."
She looked at the wall. "Only two casualties. You did well."
High praise from Callisto.
We continued. The dining hall where sixty-five people ate together. The training yard where Ruth drilled security teams. The gardens already planted for spring.
Finally, we stopped at a hill overlooking the compound. Could see everything from here. The buildings. The people. The life.
Callisto was silent for a long time.
"I didn't think you'd make it," she said finally. "Thought you were another idealist who'd get everyone killed."
"Still might."
"No. You've built something real. Something that works." She turned to me. "Some of my people want to come. Morlocks. Tunnel-dwellers. They've heard stories. Asked permission."
"I've been holding them back. Protecting them from disappointment. From another failed dream." She paused. "I'm not saying I'm joining. Not yet. But I'll stop discouraging others. That's the best I can offer."
It was more than I'd expected. "It's enough."
"They'll come. Maybe ten. Maybe twenty. Can you handle that?"
"We're building for a hundred. We can handle it."
"They're different. Morlocks. Used to darkness. Sewers. Some have visible mutations. All have scars from hiding."
"We don't care about visible mutations. Half our people can't pass as human. It's not a requirement."
"Good." She looked at the compound again. "What's your endgame? What are you building toward?"
"A nation. Mutant nation. Recognized. Legitimate. Safe."
"Nations need more than one settlement."
"I know. This is the first. Not the only."
She smiled slightly. Dangerous expression. "Ambitious."
"Necessary."
"Maybe." She started walking back toward the gate. I followed.
At the perimeter, she paused. "I was wrong about you. You're not a fool. You're—something else. Can't decide if you're brilliant or insane."
"Can be both."
"Yeah. Can be." She looked at Ruth. "Keep him alive. He's reckless."
"I try," Ruth said.
Callisto nodded to me. Not quite respect. Not quite trust. But acknowledgment. Recognition.
She left. Disappeared into the treeline. But different than last time. Last time, she'd been dismissive. Skeptical. This time—contemplative.
Ruth spoke quietly. "She'll be back. As a resident."
"I know."
"Think the Morlocks will really come?"
"Yes. She wouldn't mention it otherwise."
"That'll change things. Morlocks are—intense. Protective. Territorial."
"They're also survivors. Exactly the kind of people we need."
She nodded. "Alright. I'll prepare housing. We'll need space for however many come."
I watched the treeline where Callisto had vanished. Six months ago, she'd given me a deadline. Prove it's real or die trying.
We'd proved it. Forty-seven people survived winter. Population hit sixty-five and growing. Infrastructure solid. Food secure. Defense capable.
Real. Undeniable. Worth believing in.
The System pulsed.
[MAJOR RELATIONSHIP MILESTONE: CALLISTO]
[STATUS: CAUTIOUS ALLY]
[MORLOCK PIPELINE: OPENING]
[PROJECTED ARRIVALS: 15-25 INDIVIDUALS]
[BONUS: +500 NP, +350 EXP]
[LEVEL UP!]
[YOU ARE NOW LEVEL 18]
Eighteen levels. From powerless transmigrator to—not powerless. Not anymore.
Two bonds. Sixty-five people. Infrastructure for a hundred. Spring arriving with new growth.
And Callisto's endorsement. Reluctant. Conditional. But real.
The Morlocks would come. More people seeking what we'd built. What we represented.
A place to stand openly. A place to build. A place worth fighting for.
New Haven. Still growing. Still building. Still surviving.
Six months had passed. Six months more, we'd be unstoppable.
I walked back to the compound. Sixty-five people depending on me. Soon to be eighty. Then a hundred.
Spring was here. Growth season. Building season.
Time to make New Haven everything I'd promised it would be.
The System whispered possibilities.
I listened.
And started planning.
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