Kael stepped out of the Dinsional Gate. The portal flickered shut behind him with a faint hum, vanishing into nothing as if it had never existed.
He climbed the narrow wooden stairs to the main floor, pushing open the basent door.
It was morning now. Light was streaming in through the broken windows of the house.
"I could fix this," he murmured to himself. "Bit by bit."
If he was going to be moving goods regularly between worlds, this house would beco his Earth-side base. Storage, restocking, maybe even crafting. Eventually, a legitimate business.
A secure, remote location with no neighbors for miles. Surrounded by forest. The perfect place to hide sothing extraordinary.
But first, it needed a proper repair.
"Hmm," Kael muttered, grabbing his bike. "I should talk to Eli about this."
...
Kael pulled up outside Martha’s shop and leaned his bike against the wooden fence.
He knocked on the door.
It swung open a mont later, revealing soone new.
She was around his age, maybe a little younger—nineteen or twenty, tops. She had sharp brown eyes and short black hair pulled into a ssy ponytail. She wore a casual hoodie with the logo of St. Lanford National University printed in bold blue across the chest.
She looked Kael over with faint suspicion.
"...Who are you?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"
Kael blinked. "Uh, I’m here to see Grandma Martha."
She raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I’ve been here before."
"I’ve never seen you."
Kael opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, a voice ca from behind her.
"Ah, Kael!"
Eli appeared, wiping his hands on a rag as he stepped into view.
"Dad, you know him?" the girl asked, her eyes still locked onto Kael like he was a suspicious package.
"Yes, his na is Kael Lancaster. He lives in the old Lancaster house."
She blinked. "You an... that giant house in the forest?"
Eli nodded.
"That ghost house?"
"Yep."
She turned to Kael with wide eyes, as if she were seeing so otherworldly creature.
"Wait—you’re actually living there? There’s no one around for miles. That place creeps out."
Kael smiled faintly. "It’s peaceful."
She raised an eyebrow. "You don’t look like you’re so broke you have to live there."
Kael opened his mouth, but she was already brushing past him, earbuds in, muttering sothing about "goblins with bikes" as she headed down the porch.
"She’s got the energy of a chihuahua on espresso," Kael thought.
Eli watched her go, then shook his head with a small chuckle. "Don’t mind her. That’s Yuna—my daughter. She’s ho for the sester break. Stays at the university most of the year. Studying architecture, actually."
Kael nodded. "She seems... sharp."
"She’s a handful," Eli said, then motioned. "Co on in."
...
Inside.
Martha gave Kael a warm smile and handed him a steaming cup of tea before retreating to the kitchen.
Kael and Eli sat in the back room, which doubled as Eli’s workshop. Tools hung neatly on pegboards. Half-assembled shelves stood by the wall.
"So," Eli said, sipping from his mug, "What’s the matter?"
Kael didn’t hesitate. "I want to renovate the house. Completely."
Eli raised an eyebrow. "The whole thing?"
"Yes. Full structural renovation. Plumbing, electrical, insulation, roofing. Modern anities. Maybe solar if it’s feasible."
"About that."
Eli nodded slowly. "Well, first off—you’re lucky no one ever ca through and burned it down. But you’ve also got sothing valuable. That land, Kael? That’s worth real money. The forest, the privacy, the sheer square footage? People would kill for that kind of property."
"I’m not planning to sell it."
"Didn’t say you should. I’m saying—investing in it makes sense."
Kael leaned forward. "So, realistically—how much?"
Eli thought for a mont and said, "Your grandfather’s house must be at least 60 to 70 years old. It has also been abandoned for about 40 years. That ans you’ve probably got structural rot. Electrical system’s obsolete—if it works at all. Plumbing might as well be prehistoric. And depending on local code? You’ll need permits if you want to bring it up to standard. Especially if you’re thinking solar or running any kind of comrcial work out of there."
"I figured as much. So give it to straight. How much would it cost to fully modernize it?"
Eli let out a low whistle. "For a house that size? Full renovation, foundation check, electrical, plumbing, insulation, new roof, new windows, HVAC—plus aesthetic stuff like floors, walls, appliances?"
Kael waited.
"Two hundred and fifty, minimum. Five hundred thousand if we hit surprises. And that’s assuming we don’t find major foundation damage, mold, or structural rot."
"I don’t want to spend that much money right now."
"So how much do you want to spend?" Eli asked.
Kael thought for a while and said. "What could I do with... fifty grand?"
"Fifty? That’s a good starting point. Not enough to fix everything, but it’s enough to start."
Eli thought for a mont, then stood and grabbed a notepad from the nearby shelf. He began sketching quickly.
"First? Seal the damn place. Roof replacent, fix or board up broken windows. You can’t have water getting in. That’s how you lose the whole structure. Then? Focus on one area. Make it livable. Strip the walls, check the wiring. Replace plumbing to at least get clean water in one bathroom and the kitchen."
He looked up. "That way you can live there. And expand room by room as funds allow."
Kael nodded slowly. "Makes sense. Can we start with the front two rooms and kitchen?"
Eli scribbled a note. "Yes. But you’ll need soone to clear it first—junk removal, pest control, mold check. Then I’ll send my crew in."
Kael’s mind raced. "How long would it take?"
"Depends what we find, but if it’s not a disaster inside? Two, maybe three weeks for phase one."
Kael pulled a thick envelope from his jacket and handed it over. "Ten grand up front. That should cover inspection and materials."
Eli opened it, counted it quickly, and nodded. "I’ll make the calls today. You’re lucky—it’s a slow season. My guys are finishing a job nearby."
Kael stood, then glanced out the window. "Can I borrow your mini truck? I need to head into the city for so supplies."
Eli tossed him a keyring from the workbench. "Just don’t crash it."
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