“Is that you running around outside?”
It wasn’t. We both knew I’d made a mistake. In Rust, you never abandon someone you trust. Those people are too few.
I’d left Nigel alone in our new home, a sturdy wooden shack we’d spent two hours working toward. The sun was nearly down, and I’d been on a risky, last-minute resource run so he could craft metals. Metal makes doors. Metal makes bullets. Metal makes guns.
I took the long way back. When I found a vantage point in the bluffs behind our home, I had snuck up close enough to hear their voice chat. I could hear them screaming at Nigel.
“We know you’re in there.”
“Come out. We want to talk to you.”
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
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