Leo awoke to the gentle, pearlescent light of the Sanctum's morning filtering through the canopy. He blinked, momentarily disoriented, before realizing he had slept the entire night on the mossy ground.
He sat up and stretched, a series of satisfying cracks echoing in the quiet air. He felt… incredible. More than just rested. Every trace of exhaustion from the previous day was gone, replaced by a deep, calm well of energy. His mind was sharp and clear, his body felt light and strong. It was the best night's sleep of his life.
"I should sleep here more often," he murmured to himself, making a mental note to bring a pillow next time.
A soft chirping sound drew his attention. The little fairy had woken up too and had snuggled against his leg for warmth during the night. She floated up to his eye level, yawned a tiny cloud of golden motes, and gave him a bright, cheerful greeting.
Leo grinned. "Morning to you, too." He reached into his basket, pulled out a gleaming red tomato, and took a big bite. The burst of flavor was the perfect breakfast. The vitality surged through him, compounding the incredible sense of well-being he already felt. As he finished the tomato, a new thought occurred to him. Vegetables were great, but he missed the simple sweetness of common Earth fruits. It would be nice to have some apples, he thought. Maybe some peaches.
And the chickens. He couldn't forget Project Chicken. The idea of "Clarity Eggs" was too good to pass up.
His agenda for the day solidified. First, a quick delivery to Evelyn to secure his new vegetable contract. Then, a trip to a feed and farm supply store. He needed live chicks and a sapling—a young apple tree. It was time to expand the orchard and start the ranch.
He stood up, patted the fairy on the head, shouldered his now-full basket, and stepped through a portal back into his garage. The contrast was as jarring as ever—from a silent, magical forest to a suburban garage filled with the scent of cardboard.
Frank was already there, a cup of coffee in hand, organizing the shipping station. "You're starting early," he commented.
"Had a lot to get done," Leo said evasively, placing the basket on a workbench. He packed a smaller, more elegant sample box for Evelyn, making sure to include a few of the newly-grown, fairy-blessed strawberries.
He met Evelyn's courier in the driveway of her building. The courier, a stern-faced man in a black suit who looked more like a bodyguard, accepted the package with a curt nod and handed Leo an envelope. Inside was a check for the previous week's water deliveries—an amount that still boggled Leo's mind—and a new contract, drafted by the Hayes family's lawyers, outlining the terms for a daily delivery of produce at prices that made Leo's eyes water.
Business handled, he headed to his next destination: a sprawling agricultural supply store on the outskirts of the state. The place smelled of hay, fertilizer, and live animals. He felt completely out of his element but walked with a determined purpose.
He found the live chicks in the back, peeping away under heat lamps. They were tiny, fluffy, and impossibly fragile. He bought a dozen of the hardiest-looking ones, along with a special carrier and a bag of starter feed.
Then he went to the nursery section. He spent half an hour talking to a grizzled old employee about apple trees, finally selecting a young, healthy sapling about four feet tall, its roots bundled in burlap.
Driving home with a car full of peeping chicks and a tree sticking out of his passenger-side window, he had to laugh at the sheer absurdity of his life. Two months ago, his biggest concern was having enough gas money to get to a job he hated. Now, he was a CEO negotiating six-figure deals and about to become an interdimensional poultry and fruit farmer.
That afternoon, he made his final trip of the day to the Sanctum. He found a sunny, sheltered spot a little ways from his garden and carefully planted the apple sapling, watering it deeply with Clarity. Then, he opened the chick carrier. One by one, twelve tiny, fluffy chicks tumbled out onto the magical moss, peeping in confusion.
The fairy zipped over, her curiosity piqued. She circled the chicks, her golden glow seeming to calm them. They almost immediately began pecking at the ground, tasting strange new bugs and grasses.
Leo stood back, observing his expanding operation. He had his garden, his new orchard, and now, the beginnings of a free-range flock. He felt a profound sense of satisfaction. He wasn't just taking from this place anymore. He was building. He was creating a new Eden, a fusion of his world and this one. And he had a feeling the results would be more magical than he could ever predict.