Josh hugged him like nothing in the world was wrong.Brutal and unrestrained, the kind of hug that assumed there would always be another one later. Harold froze for half a heartbeat before his arms came up on their own, fingers gripping fabric like he was afraid Josh might disappear if he let go.The familiar creak of Harold's jacket was a comforting sound, grounding him in the moment, while the crisp, clean aroma of Josh's laundry soap mingled with the emotional weight of the embrace. Relief hit him all at once. It was like seeing Sarah again for the first time all over again.Heavy enough that his knees nearly buckled. He laughed. It was a broken sound, surprising him with its sudden exit and vulnerability. Then the laugh collapsed into something quieter as his face pressed into Josh's shoulder.Josh felt it before he saw it. "Hey," he said, the grin softening. "Hey, I'm here."That was enough.Beth waited until Josh stepped aside before moving in. She didn't say anything. She just wrapped her arms around Harold and held him, steady and grounding, like she understood exactly what this cost him. He breathed her in and felt his throat close, the room blurring at the edges.Twenty years of not knowing.Twenty years of assuming the worst.Twenty years of imagining empty endings.A tear slipped free before he could stop it. Then another.Beth didn't let go."It's okay," she said quietly, not asking him to be strong.Sarah stood a few steps away, the wooden practice sword tucked awkwardly under her arm, watching him with open concern. She had never seen him like this—the shaking and crying in a way that had nothing to do with fear. He been the rock since their parents had died, and this was new ground for her.Harold pulled back at last, swiping at his face and laughing under his breath like he was embarrassed by it. "Sorry," he said. "I..."Beth shook her head once. "Don't."Josh swallowed, suddenly less loud than he'd been a moment ago. "Man," he said softly. "We really need to sit down."Harold nodded.Sarah shifted her grip on the wooden practice sword, suddenly aware she was standing in the middle of something she didn't fully understand."I should go," she said, a little too quickly. "I'm already cutting it close."Harold turned to her at once."Hey," he said, softer now. "Pay attention in class. All of it."She rolled her eyes, but there was no heat in it. "I always do.""I mean it," he said, checking his watch without thinking. "Three hours. Be back in three hours. Earlier, if you can."She hesitated, studying his face. "I'll be back," she said. "I promise.""I know," Harold said softly.She stepped in and hugged him, quick but tight, then nodded at Josh and Beth before heading for the door."Don't break him while I'm gone," she said, pointing at Josh firmly. "I know how you two get when you get together."Josh snorted. "No promises."The door closed behind her, and the house settled again. The silence settled in a little before Harold let out a slow breath and headed for the garage without saying anything. He grabbed three beers from the fridge, the cold biting into his palm, and brought them back inside.They sat at the table. For a moment, no one spoke."Thank you for coming," Harold said finally. "I know it was short notice."Josh waved a hand. "You say jump, man. You didn't even have to explain."Beth didn't respond. She was watching him.Not just his face. His hands. The way his fingers trembled when he set the bottles down. The way his eyes kept moving, cataloging the room without realizing it. Corners. Doorways. Windows. Like part of him was still somewhere else.He looked more solid and present than when they first arrived. Yet, his fingers drummed softly against the table, eyes flicking from corner to corner as if counting exits. There was a tension in the set of his shoulders that betrayed an alertness beneath his composed exterior.Beth had seen it before in her father. In the men she'd grown up calling uncles. People who came back from places they didn't talk about. They had a kind of functional brokenness about them until they got around their own people."You don't have to thank us," she said quietly. "But you look like you've been through a lot in a very short amount of time."Harold smiled, small and tired. "That's one way to put it."Josh took a drink, glancing between them. "Okay," he said. "Now I'm officially worried."Beth kept her eyes on Harold. "You're safe right now," she said.He nodded, though it took a second. "I know."She didn't call him on the hesitation.Harold wrapped his hands around the bottle, grounding himself in the cold, and looked from Josh to Beth before speaking. His eyes flickered to a packed go-bag leaning against the wall, a sobering reminder of what might be if he was wrong. His fingers tapped lightly on the tabletop, an unconscious rhythm betraying his underlying tension."What I'm about to tell you," he said, voice low and steady, "isn't about the asteroid. That's just the first thing I can prove. Something I couldn't have known ahead of time." He paused, tapping a fingernail repeatedly, as if each tap hammered the reality into place.Josh lifted his eyebrows. "About what?" he asked, leaning forward."A large asteroid," Harold said. "Earth trajectory confirmed. Impact window is a few weeks out."Silence followed, brief and sharp. Josh glanced instinctively at his phone. Beth didn't move, her attention never leaving Harold."That's why I told Sarah to be back," Harold continued. "She needs proof, too. And I don't want either of you thinking I staged it after the fact."Josh exhaled slowly. "Okay. That's… specific. If this isn't about the asteroid, then what is this about?"Beth didn't interrupt.Harold nodded once. "That's the million-dollar question."He took a sip of beer, which he didn't taste and set it down.Josh leaned back, keeping his own beer close. "Ok, start talking."Harold did. He told them his story, and he kept it plain.He told them about being taken. Being abducted by the system and moved. One moment on Earth, the next somewhere else entirely. A world already occupied, already hostile, already structured to absorb newcomers and grind them down. He told them about the Lord's fighting among themselves and other races. The natural races that lived there in hidden fortified cities. The adventurers who fought raging monsters and the massive armies that fought over land, people, and wealth."We called it Gravesend," he said with a slight shrug. "Someone posted the name on the forum early on, and it stuck."Josh frowned. "Another planet?""Eh...for all I know, flat earth theory could have been correct," Harold said, chuckling to himself."Aliens?" Beth asked."We never knew," Harold said. "My best guess was a pantheon of gods. Others had their own theories."Beth tilted her head slightly. "What happened to you there?"Harold took a deep breath and started to explain. "Everyone picked a Role that matched what they were best suited for, and you were judged by how well you performed it. Last time I picked a crafter. I figured my knowledge of chemistry would help me."Josh scoffed. "This sounds like a game.""No," Harold said. "It was a sorting mechanism."He described their choices: fight to survive, forge creations, or rule lands. Each path measured success by its results—what they built, who they protected, and the territories they controlled or lost."Death wasn't final," he said, "but you only respawned if you were performing the function of your role. Anything else, and you stayed dead. There are some rules to all that, but I'll explain later. It can get kinda complicated."Beth's jaw tightened in silence, a pause that spoke volumes. She seemed to be processing the implications of Harold's story, her clenched jaw conveying resistance and contemplation."So, obedience to this system allows for a respawn," Beth asked."Function did," Harold said. "That distinction matters. I'll explain it later. The system responds to perception as much as action."Josh stared at the table. "And you.""I crafted," Harold said. "Chemistry gave me an advantage. I was good at it. I spent some time traveling with Sarah and ended up marrying someone I probably shouldn't have. Then we divorced."He paused."The first years were quiet," he continued. "Everyone was securing territory. Then the wars started, and humanity lost badly. The battles were...horrific," he said quietly. "Within fifteen years, humanity was reduced to a handful of fortified regions. The whole world is a large civilization builder for Lords, and the other races were just better at it. More united."His hands trembled more now."That's when I was noticed by one of the few remaining Lords who had a consolidated territory," he said. His voice grew quieter, haunted. "I was gently captured. I thought it was an opportunity at first. I needed materials for my work. But... I was forced to work, then punished when I refused." At the mention of punishment, Harold's hands involuntarily clenched, a phantom ache pulsating in his wrists as if shackled all over again, his entire body flinched as if bracing for a blow. This grim reminder sent a chill through him, a testament to how deeply the memories of that time had been etched into his very being.Beth's voice was steady. "How long?""Four years," Harold said. His voice shook. "I think it could have been more the last few years; they're a blur. I lost track of time."Josh sucked in a breath. "And then," Beth prompted."I escaped," Harold said. "Someone made a mistake with my cell. I saw the opportunity and barely remember taking it. And then I died running. Hit by a cart I never saw. I wasn't thinking clearly by then. I did things to stop them from hurting me. There were moments when I was forced to choose between my values and survival, choices that still haunt me. My mind... It's not what it used to be."He swallowed."Then I woke up here. Twenty years earlier. A month before it all began."Silence filled the room.Josh rubbed his face with both hands. "You realize how insane you sound. You didn't make your own drugs again, did you?""Yes, I do, and no, I didn't," Harold said, throwing the bottle cap at Josh, then taking a sip of his beer.Beth studied him for a long moment. "Why you?"Harold hesitated, then shrugged. "My best guess is that in my few days there, I crafted something Gravesend hadn't seen before. I was lost in the madness then. But I crafted something important enough to give me another chance.""Why reach out to us now?" Beth asked.Harold straightened his posture, shoulders squaring with a newfound strength. "Now," he said, his voice lifting with a resolve that Beth and Josh had not seen in him before, "I'm trying to make sure humanity doesn't lose the same way twice."Beth glanced at the clock.Two hours and forty-seven minutes.She looked back at him. "You'd better have some really good proof."Harold let out a chuckle. "I do. But first, I'm asking you to watch."
