Everyone says it.


    There’s no place better than your own home.


    M9 had a similar sentiment.


    But for anyone else to explore M9’s house, which far exceeded the ordinary slope one might expect from a human, it required an immense amount of resolve.


    “What are you doing? Skelton? Not coming in?”


    M9 turned to look at me from the corridor entrance.


    “Oh, no. It’s fine. I was just thinking about it. I already had tea earlier.”


    After I mistakenly stepped and watched a stone fall into the abyss below, I froze in place.


    “Hey. Skelton. What’s going on? You’re not coming in? Let’s have a cup of tea.”


    M9, sensing my hesitation, grinned and waited for me to enter.


    But there was no need for me to go.


    I wasn’t here to uncover M9’s ecological history; I had only come as an observer.


    “Hey. Skelton. Why aren’t you coming in? Are you already overwhelmed by my The Hope?”


    “...”


    “Well, nobody’s left here smiling after visiting my house. Just wait a bit. I’ll get the tea.”


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