It had been three days since the end of the stay.
Raven and Lucy were split up across campus, leaving Sigi and Ivar alone in Vyrheim.
The bare ground stretched out before them, between immense roots and the still silent streets of the city. This was their space. Their future home.
Sigi observed the plot and took a deep breath.
"Where do we start?" he asked.
"The foundations. As always," replied Ivar, placing a bag of cement on the ground. "Solid, durable, nothing fragile."
Sigi cracked her knuckles.
— Damn man… It's been three days and we haven't even finished the foundations.
"That's because you wanted them to be made of stone and mortar," replied Ivar, his voice neutral but firm.
— Yeah, but it's heavy… and it takes time.
Ivar crouched down and ran his hand over the damp ground.
— Sigi… do you understand what that means? Foundations are like the roots of a tree. We can't see them, but everything else depends on them.
— You mean… that even if we can't see what we're doing, it's bearing the entire weight of the house?
— Exactly. Ivar sat up and looked him straight in the eyes. Think carefully about what you don't see.
Sigi smiled, but a sly, ironic smile.
— You with your metaphors… you don't seem to understand what love is.
— Love?! Ivar sighed, shook his head. I'm talking about construction, idiot.
— Hahaha… the bastard! Sigi burst out laughing and went back to work.
Silence returned, punctuated only by the sound of stones, the rubbing of mortar, and the steady breathing of the two brothers.
The foundations were finished in less than three hours.
They sat on the stones, which were still warm from the sun.
"You know," Sigi began, "even if these foundations aren't perfect... even if everything collapses... I won't change houses."
Ivar frowned slightly.
— I will rebuild. Again. And again.
— As long as it's with Lucy…
Ivar didn't answer immediately. He listened. He observed his brother. Once again, he told himself how incredibly lucky he was to have Sigi by his side. Not just because he was his brother, but because he had found something that Ivar himself had never had.
On the fourth day, the structure of the load-bearing walls began to take shape.
Sigi carried stones and beams with a speed that no one in the vicinity could have noticed.
Ivar manipulated the mortar with precision,adjusting every beam, every corner.
An old man appeared, leaning on his cane, observing them.
"Are you building it all by yourselves?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
— Yes. Just the two of us, replied Sigi.
"Then take some water," said the man, placing a gourd on a stone before leaving.
A little later, a woman advised them on local wood, more resistant to moisture, cut directly from the fallen branches of Yggdrasil.
Sigi nodded, appreciating the gesture, while Ivar silently analyzed each instruction.
Even a child stopped several times, fascinated by their pace of work.
"Are you adventurers?" he asked one day.
"No," replied Sigi, wiping the sweat from his brow. "We're just building a house."
Ivar watched Sigi with a mixture of pride and concern. His brother knew how to be patient and calculating, even when he was abrupt or mocking. It was this combination that made him dangerous, yet human at the same time.
The days pass, punctuated by the rising and setting of the sun.
On the fifth day, they laid the main beams.
By the sixth, the roof began to take shape, with its simple but effective contours.
Sigi sometimes rose into the air to place heavy beams, barely controlling them, just enough not to attract attention.
"Do you think we'll be ready by the end of the week?" asked Sigi, sighing, with a beam on his shoulder.
"If we continue like this, yes. But every stone must be in its place. Nothing rushed." Ivar adjusted acoinWith precision. Even an S-rank player needs to know how to restrain themselves.
Sigi looked at him, a spark of amusement in his eyes.
— You're the S rank here, not me.
— Perhaps. But this S-Rank is built to last, not to impress.
The seventh day arrived, and the house was almost finished.
A simple, warm structure, open to light and wind.
No unnecessary luxury, no superfluous decor. Simple. Solid. Livable.
Sigi paused for a moment in the center of the future living room, hands on hips, and observed.
Ivar put down the tools.
— She's going to love it.
"I know," Sigi murmured.
They stood for a few minutes watching the sun sink behind the roots of Yggdrasil. The air was heavy, charged with an imperceptible but tangible tension.
Ivar frowned slightly.
— Can you feel it too?
— Yes… something's not right.
Then the rumble began.
At first, faint, almost distant.
Then an explosion, close, violent.
The ground vibrated. The windows of the surrounding houses shook. The wind carried a smell of burning.
Sigi and Ivar froze. Their instincts took over.
"That's... not normal," Ivar murmured.
— No… and it comes from over there, replied Sigi, pointing towards the horizon.
A flying superhuman appeared, slicing through the air at uncontrolled speed.
He left behind shockwaves and a chaotic trail. Sigi sensed the raw power, but also the inexperience.
"He's not in control of anything," Ivar breathed, already on high alert.
Then, a dull thud could be heard. The rotors.
One. Two. Three. Several military helicopters appeared above the city.
And on the ground, armed, disciplined human figures advanced.
Sigi clenched his fists.
Why here? Why now?
Ivar observed coldly:
- Because VyrheimIt is calm. And that this calm bothers someone.
The flying superhuman let out a cry and struck the ground hundreds of meters away. The shockwave tore off part of the roof of the house they had just finished. Dust and broken wood flew through the air.
"We haven't even finished the house..." Sigi murmured, her jaw clenched.
Ivar placed a hand on his shoulder.
— Then we will protect her.
Sigi took a deep breath, ready to intervene. Reflexes, speed, flight: everything was ready. But this wasn't just a simple incident. The military might and organized human presence indicated that something much bigger had just begun.
"Why does it always start when we're just trying to live?" Sigi sighed.
Ivar, his eyes fixed on the helicopters and the furious superhuman:
— Because this world never lets simple things…simple.
The smoke rose, distant sirens wailed, and the roots of Yggdrasil vibrated under the impacts.
For the first time since their arrival, the two brothers found themselves facing a real threat, right there in front of them.
And that threat was just the beginning.