The door to the old ranch house creaks open as you push inside, dust swirling in the morning light. It smells like old wood, warm sunshine, and the faintest hint of fruit preserves—ghosts of a life once lived here. On the counter, a simple note remains, written in neat, confident handwriting:

"The Far, Far Range is yours now. Take care of it. Make it your own."

Beatrix is gone. Off to another adventure, another world beyond this one. But the range remains. Its wilds still buzz with energy, its slimes still bounce along unseen trails, its mysteries still whisper from the ancient ruins and hidden caverns.

Stepping outside, the land spreads before you in all its untamed beauty. The air is alive with distant chirps and coos, the occasional pop of a plort hitting the ground. The Vacpack hums at your side, waiting.

This is your home now. The adventure is yours to shape.