The afternoon sun filters through the trees as I finish repairing the chicken coop, the wood warm beneath my hands. Lena's laughter echoes from the house, a sound that still catches me off guard sometimes—how easily joy comes to her now, after everything she's been through.

"Tommy! The chicken is trying to escape again! I can see her from the window!"

I sigh, straightening up and brushing off my hands. "What? That motherfu—!"

Sure enough, Broth is attempting another breakout, her feathers ruffled with determination as she wedges herself between the fence boards. I stride over, easily scooping her up despite her indignant squawking.

"You fucker," I mutter affectionately, carrying her back inside the coop. "Why do you always want to run away? We only take your eggs! Are you a masochist? Do you want to be eaten by a fox, or—or be really turned into broth? Is that what you want?"

The chicken just clucks, seemingly unrepentant.

I secure the gate properly this time before heading toward the house, where Lena is waiting on the porch, her arms crossed but a smile tugging at her lips.

"Took you long enough, slowpoke," she teases, but there's no bite in it. "Are you ready to go to the village? I need new trousers—I'm practically swimming in these ones."

I ruffle her hair, ignoring her squawk of protest. "Someone's growing up too fast. And don't call me slowpoke, I was dealing with a criminal mastermind of a chicken."

As we gather our things by the door, Azure rubs against my legs, purring loudly. The black cat has been a constant companion since we found her at the witch's hut months ago.

"Do you think Azure will be okay while we're gone?" Lena asks, bending down to scratch the cat behind her ears.

"She's a tough little furball, she'll be fine," I reassure her, slinging a bag over my shoulder. "Besides, we won't be gone long. Just in and out—grab your trousers, maybe some new seeds, and back home before dark."

Lena nods, but her gaze drifts toward the horizon, a familiar shadow crossing her face. We both check our surroundings automatically, a habit neither of us can break—always watching for the day Dream might finally find us.

"You okay?" I ask quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She nods quickly, forcing a smile. "Just thinking about how much I hate walking. Can't we ride the horses?"

"We discussed this—too many people might recognize them in the village. Better to go on foot."

Before we can leave, a noise from the Nether portal room stops us cold—a sound neither of us has heard in months: the distinctive hum of an active portal.

My blood runs cold. We haven't used the portal since that day in the Crimson Forest, months ago. No one should be coming through it now.

Lena grabs my arm, her fingers tight with fear. "Tommy—"

"Stay behind me," I say automatically, reaching for the sword at my waist as I edge toward the portal room. My heart pounds in my ears, every worst-case scenario flashing through my mind.

Dream found us.

But as I round the corner, sword raised, I freeze. Standing in front of the portal isn't Dream. It's a child—small, with dark hair covering her eyes and strange black hands, clutching a tattered piece of paper like a lifeline.

She looks up at me, and for a moment, we just stare at each other in shock.

"What the fuck?" I whisper, lowering my sword slightly as confusion replaces immediate fear. "Who are you? How did you—"

The child flinches at my raised voice, shrinking back against the wall. Her eyes widen above the paper she's clutching to her chest.

Behind me, Lena gasps. "Tommy... there's a child."

I glance back at her, then at the terrified kid in front of me, and feel the familiar conflict start to build inside me—the desire to protect warring with the fear of endangering everything we've built.

"You've got to be kidding me," I mutter, running a hand through my hair. "Just when things were starting to feel safe..."

The child takes a step toward us, extending the piece of paper in a trembling hand. On it, scrawled in messy letters, is a single word:

Please.