Cole had gotten back to the house with the team around evening. Elina had decided to tag along, which was starting to be the new normal.

  Lisara had dinner waiting for them, perfectly timed with their arrival: a good ol’ ribeye with some mashed potatoes, paired with cevass – some sort of local vegetable that looked damn near identical to broccoli but tasted a lot sweeter. The meal hit that comfortable spot between familiar and foreign; close enough to home that nobody felt out of place, different enough to remind them where they actually were.

  Cole couldn’t have imagined a more fitting backdrop when he’d broken the news about Terraland that night. Yeah, the isekai park was called Terraland. It wasn’t the most creative name per se, but it sure got the point across: Earth nostalgia packaged as a Tenrian resort, presumably designed to combat the crippling homesickness that came with being stuck in another world.

  The team had taken the vacation announcement well. Well enough that Cole had found Mack still sleeping the next morning, which was maybe the single best outcome he could’ve hoped for.

  He’d briefly thought about waking him, but killed the idea almost instantly. They were on vacation; the whole point of that was to relax, to ditch schedules and all the regimented structure of work.

  Besides, Mack needed this. The insomnia eating at him since the warehouse had gotten worse, compounding on itself like interest on a debt he couldn’t pay down. If the guy was finally getting actual sleep instead of staring at the ceiling for six hours pretending that counted as rest, Cole wasn’t about to fuck with it.

  He headed downstairs, where everyone else had already claimed spots at the dining table, glossing over pamphlets as they ate. Lisara had set out meat pies alongside fresh fruit, bread, and butter.

  Ethan glanced up as Cole sat down. “Morning. Mack still sleeping?”

  “Yeah,” Cole said. “Figured I’d let him rest.”

  He couldn’t really parse whether Mack was finally catching some genuine peace, or just forcing himself through the biological motions of unconsciousness, or simply too exhausted to fight staying awake anymore. Whatever the underlying mechanics, he was just glad that Mack was sleeping at all.

  Elina set her fork down with a heavy sigh. “That is relieving – mercifully so.”

  Cole knew her well enough to know that the relief wasn’t just for Mack. She was clearly also relieved she wouldn’t have to step into a role she wasn’t trained for, playing therapist when she barely had the foundation for it.

  He shifted gears. “Perfect timing for the vacation, too. You excited about anything specific?”

  She hesitated, then opened one of the pamphlets on the table. “I haven’t the slightest idea what I’m meant to expect – but I suppose that’s half the adventure.”

  She flipped through the pages slowly, studying the pictures and descriptions. For someone who’d been through some tough battles, psychiatric battles notwithstanding, she seemed genuinely unsure about recreational activities.

  But then again, this was pretty much alien culture to her. Cole spread out his own pamphlet. “Okay, well how about… what looks fun? Or interesting?”

  Elina found what she was looking for. “The hot springs, certainly. The restaurant looks agreeable… the theatres, worth a visit. And this ‘cinema’? I suppose that is rather intriguing.”

  Miles perked up. “Cinema? As in… movie theater?”

  Cole shrugged. “Apparently, yeah they do. Wouldn’t mind checking it out.”

  Elina glanced between them. “You’re familiar?”

  “Yeah. Moving pictures,” Miles said. “I didn’t know y’all got that here.”

  Elina nodded, though not with the same excitement that caught Miles in a chokehold. “Indeed we do, though they’re quite new to us. Ingenious little spectacles, but they’ve some years yet before they rival a proper play.

  “I don’t know about that.” Ethan had his own pamphlet out. “Says here the movie theater uses ‘high-purity’ scrying pane technology for recording video and audio. I’m guessing this isn’t standard for Celdornian film, is it?”

  “No,” Elina said, shaking her head. “It is rather extravagant. Scrying panes are rare things, and costly besides. To spend them on entertainment seems a prodigal fancy.” She paused, expression shifting from almost offended to actually considering. “Still… I wonder what such clarity might make possible. The detail must be extraordinary.”

  “Magic’s gotta make for some killer practical effects, too,” a voice said from the hallway.

  Cole looked up. Mack stood at the entrance to the dining room, looking like he was actually alive now. His complexion paled in comparison to what it was weeks ago; dark circles clung to his eyes, and his gaze still felt… hollow. But the improvement was significant, and it was there. The Mack of today was present in a way he hadn’t been since the docks.

  “Morning,” Cole said. “We’re sorting through all the shit they’ve got at Terraland. Got any preferences?”

  Mack crossed to the table and dropped into an empty chair. “Well, what’s an isekai vacation without hitting up the hot springs?”

  That was certainly a hopeful answer. And his response was quick, too – not instant like it should’ve been, but quick enough to suggest some real healing. Hell, maybe even quick enough to suggest anticipation.

  Cole chuckled. “Fair point.”

  He turned to Miles and Ethan. “What about you two?”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Air rifle range,” Miles said immediately. “And bowling. Billiards, maybe.”

  Ethan took longer. “I think I might try the ice skating.” A sadness flashed across his eyes for a split second. “Reminds me of home. Used to go with my family pretty regularly.”

  He sat there a moment before clearing his throat. “And uh… the music venue, too. This is a Victorian-style society, so that’s got to mean they’ve got their own version of Mozart, or something, yeah?”

  “Probably,” Cole said. “I’d be surprised if they didn’t.”

  Miles leaned back in his chair. “Ice skatin’ don’t sound too bad. Ain’t done that since I was eight, but c’mon – how hard can it be? You just kinda… slide.”

  “If you really think that’s how it’ll go, I guarantee you’ll be face-planting within five minutes,” Ethan said.

  Miles doubled down. “Hell no. Nah, brother, I got balance. Coordination. This ain’t my first rodeo.”

  Ethan smirked. “Well, it’s your first ice rink.”

  “Eh, same principle,” Miles said, shrugging.

  “Yeah, not even close.”

  That got a grin from Miles. “Alright, bet. Just you wait.”

  Elina looked between them. “Is it so treacherous a skill, then? I had imagined it rather graceful.”

  “Depends on who you’re asking. Treacherous if you’re busting your ass on the ice,” He paused to glance at Miles.

  “Hey, you ain’t even seen me try yet!”

  Ethan laughed, continuing, “Or graceful if you actually know what you’re doing. I’ve seen some impressive performances.”

  Elina sipped her tea. “Hmm. I imagine this very grace would unmake an enemy on the battlefield, would it not?”

  Miles snorted softly. “Oh yeah. Pretty’ll kill ya quicker than ugly ever could. Those Nevskors we fought? I saw Chappie here break their ankles, twirlin’ ‘round them bastards.”

  It sounded like an exaggeration, but honestly, it damn well could’ve been possible with magic. Cole just wished he could’ve seen that play out instead of getting his ass whooped by the Vampire Lord.

  Elina, from the look on her face, seemed to share that same sentiment. “Then I suppose I’ll have you show me when we arrive. I expect to be duly impressed.”

  They wrapped up breakfast after that, filling in a few more gaps about what else might be worth trying – archery, the spa, whether the pool would be worth using. Of course, these weren’t as popular as the heavy hitters, but it’d give them something to do when they got bored of the main attractions.

  Then, everyone headed upstairs to pack – or finish packing, in the case of Ethan and Elina.

  Honestly, Cole should’ve followed them and packed last night, seeing as he’d made zero progress whatsoever after five minutes of staring at his closet, gray luggage completely empty behind him.

  He’d been living out of one cabinet since moving in – his go-to section that Tenna, bless her, had stocked with practical daily wear. Naturally, that meant he’d never actually explored the closet, so only now was he finding out that it was an entire fucking room.

  Aisles of clothing racks stretched out like a Victorian department store had colonized his bedroom, all of it untouched.

  Tenna and Darin had apparently stocked it to the point of absurdity, though that didn’t much correlate with his choices. Everything here looked aggressively Victorian – which, to be fair, made a lot of sense for Celdorne. Still, what the hell was he supposed to do with all this?

  At least half of the selection consisted of gentleman’s attire: egregiously fancy waistcoats with equally complex buttons, tailored trousers straight out of a documentary, dress shirts with collars so stiff they could probably stand on their own. What’s next, a top hat and cane?

  Cole walked through an aisle with components for a full suit, and found a cabinet at the end, presumably for accessories. He opened it and – yep. There they were. Actual top hats, plural. And a cane with a silver handle that probably cost more than his entire wardrobe back on Earth. Plus ties, stopwatches, monocles, and everything else prerequisite for an authentic Mister Monopoly fit.

  He stared at them for a good second, then closed the closet. Yeah, nope. He wasn’t gonna be touching those – especially not for a vacation trip.

  Cole moved to the next section, which had more of the same Victorian excess, just in different colors. Half the stuff he couldn’t even name! Frock coats, morning coats, waistcoats – coats this, coats that.

  But he had to admit, some of the stuff did look pretty impressive. The crown, hands down, had to go to this dark navy coat he found tucked between the frock coats – silver trim along the lapels and cuffs, paired with a vest that had embroidery subtle enough to stay classy. He could just imagine putting this on, throwing out a hard-ass pose while crossing this place’s version of the Delaware. Minus the tricorn hat, of course.

  Runner-up was a charcoal gray ensemble he’d definitely wear if he were an oil baron and wanted to flex on everyone else.

  Cole pulled those off the rack and carried them to an empty cabinet near the door. It was definitely worth keeping these accessible for when he actually needed to look the part – formal dinners, meetings with nobility, saving a village, aura-farming, whatever else required projecting authority. Just not for lounging at a resort.

  He had no intention of intimidating anyone at the hot springs.

  The third aisle offered some marginal improvement. Simpler shirts, at least – fewer buttons, less starch in the collars. Some sweaters that looked almost normal, except they were wool and probably itchy as hell. Still formal by Earth standards, but at least functional.

  By the end of his exploration he’d found absolutely nothing resembling a t-shirt anywhere. No jeans either – which probably existed somewhere in Tenria, just not in his closet, because apparently Darin had decided Cole needed to dress like he was perpetually ready for afternoon tea with aristocrats.

  The closest he could approximate to casual wear were pajamas, henleys, cricket shirts, and simple button-downs that didn’t demand cufflinks or collar stays. Proto-Ralph Lauren, pretty much – if Ralph Lauren had been outfitting guys who thought showing forearms in public was borderline scandalous.

  He grabbed several days’ worth of those, then circled back for the charcoal suit he’d set aside earlier. He had no clue if the resort had dress codes for dinner, but showing up unprepared would be worse than overpacking.

  Toiletries came next – shampoo, soap, the basics. He’d probably not touch them if the five-star claim held up, but it felt wrong leaving without them.

  His revolver went in his luggage without question. Low odds of needing it, but the cost of being wrong wasn’t worth gambling on vacation optimism.

  Then he tossed in the mana potions. The idea of having to taste bullshit at a resort of all things didn’t sit right with him, but hey, maybe they’d have unlimited mimosas that he could drown it with.

  Finally, he added his phone and solar charger. Communication was dead, but the camera still functioned, and he wasn’t about to miss documenting whatever insanity a homesick Japanese isekai hero had built in the middle of Celdorne.

  Cole slung the bag over his shoulder and headed downstairs. Everyone was already waiting by the door, like this was some family trip.

  “Everyone ready?”

  They gave nods all around.

  Cole pulled the door open. “Alright. Let’s go.”

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