Lyra lay flat on her back in the grass, staring at the sky.
"So," she said casually, "are you secretly some ancient farming god in human form?"
Rylan, who was sharpening a hoe nearby, didn't even look up.
"No."
"…Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"…Because the soil literally sparkles when you touch it."
"That happens sometimes."
Lyra rolled onto her side and squinted at him.
"Okay. New question. Why does your farm feel safer than literally anywhere I've ever been?"
Rylan paused.
"…It does?"
She sat up fast. "YES. I mean, my stomach stopped doing that 'we are about to die' thing the moment I landed."
Rylan thought for a moment.
"…Maybe the crops like you."
The crops rustled proudly.
Lyra stared at them.
"…They're listening."
"They do that."
She slowly lay back down.
"Alright. I've officially accepted that this place is weird."
---
The Question Barrage Begins
Lyra popped up again.
"Where are your parents?"
Rylan answered immediately.
"I don't know them."
"Oh."
"Grandpa raised me."
"…Was he also terrifying?"
Rylan frowned. "No. He just yelled a lot."
"That tracks."
Lyra nodded like she'd solved a mystery.
"Okay okay—how long have you been farming?"
"…As long as I can remember."
"And you've never once thought, 'Wow, I'm unnaturally good at this'?"
Rylan shrugged. "If you do something every day, you get better."
Lyra slapped the ground.
"NO. THAT IS NOT HOW THAT WORKS."
---
Lyra Tries to Help Again (Mistake)
She jumped to her feet.
"I want to try harvesting again."
Rylan hesitated. "…Carefully."
She grabbed a basket and marched into the field.
"Alright vegetables," she announced, "cooperate and nobody gets emotionally hurt."
She crouched and stared intensely at a pumpkin.
"…You. Are you ripe?"
The pumpkin sat there.
Lyra nodded. "Good talk."
She tried lifting it.
Didn't budge.
She strained.
Still nothing.
She put her foot against it and pushed.
The pumpkin popped free and rolled gently into her basket by itself.
Lyra froze.
"…RYLAN."
"Yes?"
"I didn't do that."
Rylan looked.
"…Huh."
The pumpkin sparkled faintly.
Lyra backed away slowly.
"…Your crops are haunted."
"They're polite."
"That makes it worse."
---
The Skill Copy Incident (Almost)
Lyra picked up a sickle.
"Teach me how you cut weeds without hurting crops."
Rylan demonstrated once. Clean. Perfect.
"Like this."
Lyra copied the motion.
For one brief second—
—her movement became flawless.
Too flawless.
The weeds vanished cleanly.
The crops stood untouched.
The cut was perfect.
Lyra blinked.
"…Did I just do that right?"
Rylan stared.
Something flickered in his chest.
1% chance…
Then it vanished.
"…Yeah," he said slowly. "You did."
Lyra gasped.
"I'M A GENIUS."
"No," Rylan said calmly. "You're lucky."
The universe laughed quietly.
---
Serious Question (For Five Seconds)
Lyra sat on a crate, swinging her legs.
"…Rylan?"
"Yes?"
"Doesn't it ever bother you? Being alone out here?"
He thought.
"…Sometimes."
She nodded.
"But the field keeps me busy. And Grandpa's words stay loud."
"…What did he say?"
Rylan smiled faintly.
"'If the land trusts you, you're never alone.'"
Lyra was quiet.
Then—
"That's… actually really cool."
---
Immediate Chaos Again
Lyra stood up.
"Okay. I have one last question."
"What?"
"…WHY IS THAT PLANT GLOWING?"
Rylan turned.
The small divine sprout from earlier had grown taller.
And brighter.
And was humming.
"…That wasn't doing that this morning."
Lyra slowly backed away.
"…Did your god do that?"
"…What god?"
She pointed upward.
"…The bored one."
Far above, the God of Everything choked on laughter.
"Oh this girl is FUN."
---
Rylan scratched his head, sighed, and picked up his hoe.
"…I'll deal with it after dinner."
Lyra stared at him.
"You see a glowing divine plant and think 'later'?"
"Yes."
"…I respect that."
The crops rustled.
The plant hummed.
The farm stayed peaceful.
And Lyra realized something important:
This boy was either the calmest person alive—
—or the most dangerous one without knowing it.