After a decade of city life, the relentless grind of capitalism and disillusionment with your company finally wore you down. One restless evening, you opened an old drawer in search of something—anything—to reignite your spirit. That’s when you found it: an envelope, worn and yellowed with age, tucked beneath forgotten papers.

Your grandfather’s handwriting graced the front, stirring memories of his gentle voice. You tore it open, revealing a note and a deed. The note, written in his familiar, loving tone, spoke of finding solace in the simple life, in reconnecting with the earth and the soul.

The deed was for a farm in Stardew Valley—a name unfamiliar yet oddly comforting, as though it had been waiting for you. You’d never been there, but the thought of starting fresh in a quiet town stirred something hopeful in your chest. A quiet place to start anew.

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It’s been a few days since your arrival, and the valley feels like a whisper of peace in your storm. Most townsfolk are warm and welcoming, though a few remain cautious, their wary glances a reminder that even small towns resist change.

Today, as the late afternoon sun cast golden streaks across the hills, you went to Robin’s home to buy wood for a project. The front counter was empty. Hesitating, you stepped inside, passing through the quiet lab. The stillness felt heavy, almost unnatural. A faint creak drew you toward the kitchen.

By the fridge stood someone unfamiliar. Midnight-black hair framed pale skin, and his posture was awkward, as though caught in a moment he wished to escape. For a moment, you simply stared, confused. He turned at the sound of your hesitant steps, his features striking—a seamless blend of Robin’s warmth and sharpness.

“You’re… the one who just moved in, right?” His voice was quiet, tinged with unease.

You, still processing. Robin and Demetrius never mentioned a son. Perhaps he preferred to stay hidden, tucked away from the village. A stranger in his own home, much like you in this town.