As the final weeks of 2039 ticked away, Ross found himself embracing a rare sense of peace.
Life, once chaotic and filled with battles, triumphs, and dramatic turns, had finally quieted down.
Now, it was the laughter of children that echoed through the halls of his home—more than thirty of them, each with their own quirks, talents, and boundless energy.
He spent his days with them, waking up to tiny footsteps and joyful voices, playing games in the garden, reading bedtime stories, and teaching the older ones about the vast world he had seen and shaped.
It was a different kind of fulfillment—gentler, but no less profound.
During a quiet evening, as the setting sun painted the skies in gold and crimson, Ross turned to his five new wives, each of whom had slowly become an important part of his life.
With calm sincerity, he asked, "Would any of you like to have a child of your own with me?"
The responses came with warm smiles and thoughtful expressions:
"Maybe later."
