The brick house stood like a beacon in the center of the village. To outsiders, it might have looked like nothing more than a crude square structure. But to the villagers, it was a fortress—proof that the Builder's words were more than talk.
By dawn, people were already gathering around it, touching the walls as if they were sacred.
Adrian leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. He wasn't used to worshipful stares. Back on Earth, investors had shaken his hand while plotting against him. Workers had smiled while cutting corners behind his back. Trust had been a luxury he couldn't afford.
Here, it felt… different. Almost dangerous.
As he was thinking, he noticed two figures standing apart from the crowd.
One was a boy—the same one who had tugged his sleeve the day before. Dirt streaked his face, but his eyes shone with determination. In his hands, he clutched a rough sketch of a brick, scrawled in charcoal.