BrightHollow

Shaoran took another swig of his beer, setting the cold bottle down on the wooden table with a dull clink. The holographic map continued to rotate above them, casting a faint blue glow across the dimly lit room. The city of 403 was still in ruins from the Crimson Triad's explosion, but this place—this living room—felt like the closest thing to stability either of them had right now.

Jerry stretched, his cybernetic fingers flexing as he rubbed his temples. "You hear anything from Jupiter?"

Shaoran rolled his shoulders, popping a joint. "Yeah. They're losing ground. Already lost a whole country."

Jerry exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Damn fools. Should've listened from the start. But at least they finally understand the value of old-school weapons. They're dusting off every museum piece they can find now—rifles, machine guns, even old-ass revolvers."

Shaoran smirked. "Took them long enough. Plasma's useless against the Nightmare. Ballistic rounds are the only thing keeping them in the fight."

Jerry took a deep gulp of his beer, staring at the map. "So, what's our status?"

Shaoran leaned forward, the glow of the hologram reflecting off his sharp features. He tapped the center of the map. "Ena Mine—our heart. Sitting on top of this mountain. We've got three dirt roads leading up to it now. Goblins and your men have been working around the clock."

Jerry chuckled. "No kidding. If they worked any harder, I'd think they were on something."

Shaoran continued. "The entire area was once thick with trees—Monster Forest, they're calling it. But we're clearing it, one section at a time. Even with the manpower we have, we've only pushed five kilometers out."

Jerry grunted. "That's barely a dent."

"Still better than nothing. We're sending the excess logs back to Earth. Market's unstable, but we're making credits."

Jerry rubbed his chin, his one remaining eye narrowing. "That magic stuff you introduced—it's doing its job?"

Shaoran smirked and pointed to a glowing blue section on the north side of the map. "Blue Moonstone circles. They run non-stop, keeping the mining process smooth. We found a small deposit north of the river."

Jerry frowned. "River?"

Shaoran chuckled. "More like a small sea. We're calling it River Sound."

Jerry let out a low whistle. "Not bad. What about the mines?"

"East side," Shaoran said, zooming in. "Silver and copper. Tika and her goblins are running operations with your men."

Jerry nodded approvingly. "They know their stuff. Tika's a sharp one."

"And beyond that," Shaoran said, his finger trailing further, "we have the Nightmare Frontier Wall. That's where I spend most of my time—killing the big ones, testing my swordsmanship, and making sure nothing nasty gets through."

Jerry gave him a knowing look. "Still trying to level up?"

Shaoran shrugged. "You never know what's coming next."

Jerry sighed. "South side's coming along, right?"

"Yeah," Shaoran nodded. "Wide open space now. We've got food stalls, warehouses, an armory, the management office, and player housing. It's a rough setup, but it works."

Jerry chuckled. "I've seen the players running around like busy little ants. Serana, Terry, and their crew are locking down the west. They're making it livable, at least."

Shaoran nodded. "They're hard workers. They're making something out of nothing."

Jerry leaned back, taking another sip. "I like how things are shaping up. But we need to think bigger."

Shaoran raised an eyebrow. "Bigger?"

Jerry smirked, tapping the map. "This place—Ena Mine, the town that's forming around it. It needs a name."

Shaoran let out a low chuckle. "You want to name it already?"

Jerry shrugged. "Why not? People fight harder for something that has a name."

Shaoran leaned back, staring at the map, deep in thought. "Got anything in mind?"

Jerry was silent for a moment, then said, "How about Ironhold?"

Shaoran raised an eyebrow. "Ironhold? Sounds like a prison."

Jerry chuckled. "It's solid. It's strong. And it holds the mine together."

Shaoran smirked. "Not bad. But how about Titan's Rest?"

Jerry frowned. "Sounds like a damn tourist spot."

Shaoran chuckled. "Fine. What about BrightHollow?"

Jerry considered it, rolling the name over in his mind. "BrightHollow… has a nice ring to it."

Shaoran nodded. " BrightHollow it is."

Jerry grinned, raising his beer. "To BrightHollow."

Shaoran clinked his bottle against Jerry's. "To BrightHollow."