Chapter 90 — The Island That Calls
S.C. 1510 — Late December
Foosha Village — Shoreline
Ren stood at the shoreline with a small satchel, a coil of rope, and the expression of a seven-year-old who had decided to move mountains before lunchtime.
Beside him, Zemo sat like a tiny captain inspecting his ship—the humble rowboat Ren carved and repaired more times than he liked to admit.
Ren narrowed his eyes at the distant horizon.
"Zemo… today we go scouting."
Zemo barked once, proud and majestic—
then tripped over a seashell.
Ren sighed.
"And that's my right-hand fox."
Still, Ren's heart was steady.
Because over the last few months, he'd noticed something unusual:
An unmapped cluster of tiny islands just beyond Foosha's familiar waters.
Fishermen avoided them.
The village ignored them.
Even marine patrols never passed close.
Which for Ren meant:
Privacy.
Secrecy.
Freedom.
Everything a growing scientist needed.
He pushed the little boat into the water.
"Hop in."
Zemo leaped aboard with the grace of someone who almost fell off but recovered at the last millisecond—and acted like it was intentional.
Ren rowed.
---
Across the Calm Sea
The waves were gentle today, sunlight sparkling across them like scattered gold dust.
Ren rowed steadily, stronger than any seven-year-old had the right to be.
Forest workouts, ore hauling, and furnace labor had replaced the concept of "childhood softness" long ago.
Zemo sat at the bow, ears high, nose twitching at every bird, fish, and imaginary enemy.
Halfway across, a seagull screeched overhead.
Zemo screeched back.
Ren paused rowing.
"…Are you picking fights with birds again?"
Zemo growled at the sky like an old warrior.
Ren shook his head and kept rowing.
He checked the tiny compass he'd made—just a needle floating on a leaf inside a shallow water cup. It pointed exactly where he wanted.
"Good. Straight ahead."
The air grew quieter.
The world calmed.
And then—
Sand scraped beneath the boat.
Ren had arrived.
---
First Steps on the Island
Ren jumped onto the shore.
His breath caught.
"…This place…"
Zemo sniffed everything in sight, tail sweeping wildly.
Ren turned slowly, taking in everything:
No footprints
No broken branches
No fishing debris
No signs of travelers
Just untouched nature.
A hidden world.
The island was small but beautifully shaped—like someone had trimmed a forest park and left it floating in the sea.
Trees ringed the edges, forming a natural barrier.
The center was flat enough to build on.
And best of all—
It was silent.
Free.
Safe.
Ren crouched and sifted the soil through his fingers.
"Dry surface… moist underneath. Strong structure. Perfect for digging."
Zemo sniffed a small rock, sneezed violently, then glared at it.
Ren nodded sympathetically.
"Yes. Nature is rude sometimes."
---
The Cliffside Revelation
Ren walked toward the eastern cliff.
The stone face was tough, thick, and smooth—
a natural fortress wall.
Ren rested his palm on it.
"This… is perfect."
He could carve here.
Build here.
Hide here.
Underground rooms.
Secret chambers.
Storage tunnels.
Slowly.
Silently.
Safely.
A base hidden from the world.
Not yet—
not today—
but soon.
---
Mapping the Island — With Zemo Assistance (Sort Of)
Ren spent hours exploring:
South Side
A calm, shallow beach ideal for landing a boat.
Zemo dug a hole there for no reason.
Ren pretended he understood.
East Side
The cliff wall—solid stone.
THE spot for future underground chambers.
North Side
Dense bushes and tall grass.
Perfect natural cover.
Zemo got lost twice and pretended he did it intentionally.
West Side
Sharp rocks and crashing waves.
Dangerous, but a natural defense.
Ren nodded with satisfaction.
"This place is a gift."
Zemo barked like he discovered it himself.
---
A Hidden Treasure — Water Beneath the Soil
At the center, Zemo suddenly dug like his life depended on it.
Ren walked over.
The soil was softer here.
Cooler.
Moist.
"…There's water underneath," Ren whispered.
A natural source.
The island wasn't just good.
It was ideal.
---
Early Plans — The First Blueprint
Ren sat under a tree, notebook on his knee.
Zemo curled beside him, exhausted from his heroic digging.
Ren wrote:
Island Base — Phase One
1. Build a hidden tool shelter
2. Carve a narrow escape tunnel from beach to forest
3. Start digging a small underground chamber
4. Move supplies from Foosha quietly
5. Use KEA tools for stonework
6. Keep the island absolutely secret
7. Expand only at night
He tapped the notebook.
"This will be our backup. Our fallback. Our real base."
Foosha was home.
But he couldn't trust Goa Kingdom forever.
He'd seen stories in books.
He heard whispers from travelers.
He smelled smoke drifting from the Gray Terminal sometimes.
Danger would come.
This island would be his answer.
---
Rowing Back — With Determination
The sun dipped low as Ren and Zemo boarded the boat again.
Zemo curled at Ren's feet, tail flicking in lazy satisfaction.
Ren rowed, the breeze cool against his face.
The closer they got to Foosha, the clearer his thoughts became.
"I have to build fast. Carefully. Quietly."
Not for fame.
Not for greed.
Not even for ambition.
But for safety.
When Goa's nobles acted…
it was always innocent people who suffered.
Ren's grip tightened on the oars.
"I won't let danger come unprepared."
Foosha's shoreline finally came into view.
Ren exhaled softly.
"The island… will be our true foundation."
Zemo barked once, agreeing wholeheartedly.
---
End of Chapter 90