Goddess Tippy’s sudden arrival—then sudden disappearance—sowed chaos into the opening day’s crowd. People screamed into the air, others prayed on their knees, and yet, a majority pushed and shoved all the way into the village.

Thinking fast, Luka and Franky hopped aboard Leo and Sebby, quickly sprinting to the front of the crowd. They then slowed the pace of the group, reducing the dead sprint to a speed-walk.

“That was some speech!” Franky said, leaning in for Luka to better hear him.

Behind, the crowd gawked and stared, the World Walker was within arm’s reach! He summoned a goddess with the simplest of words alone! What could his creations be, to garner such divine attention?

“I flubbed the middle and end part,” Luka replied. “When I said both worlds ‘bore me,’ I realized I messed up. My pause right after was me panicking.”

Franky shrugged. “Didn’t seem that way to us. If anything, it all seemed planned.”

“None of that was planned.” Luka craned his head, trying to find Tram—instead, he found nearly four hundred eyeballs staring back at him. “Tram should have warned me she wanted me to make a speech.”

“She told me, and I was supposed to tell—” Franky snapped his mouth closed. “Oh. Sorry.”

Luka glared at his friend. “I would have prepared something special if I had known! I had to call on the Goddess because I couldn’t think of a better ending!”

“You were just so busy!” the bald orc pleaded. “It was right when you, Eve, and Aunt Sol were trying to figure out the glyphs for the teacups! I didn’t want to interrupt and just kinda forgot…”

Legends and tales would be spread about this day—a day hardly planned and mostly improvised.

The duo led the group into the village edge before stopping. Slowly, they turned toward their guests, the crowd nipping at each other’s heels to see what was in store for them. Luka cleared his throat and held the microphone stick to his lips—and as he spoke, the local grass blades spoke with him.

“Welcome to World Walker Park.” People started clapping. Luka raised his hand after a moment, silencing everyone. “Now, since this place is unlike anything in this world, allow me a simple explanation.”

He jutted a thumb toward the WHEEL. “That there is an ‘attraction’ or ‘ride.’ Today, there are four rides, with a fifth only for children—you’ll see what I mean in a few minutes. Outside each ride, there is a sign stating the cost per rider in copper. Or, for an upcharge, you can purchase an unlimited daily pass at one of the designated booths. Buying this pass is only for the day it is purchased, okay?”

The word “unlimited” got a round of muttering—the excited kind, thankfully.

“Food, drink, and merchandise can be purchased around the park. All rides have their queues marked, and cutting will result in you and your party being sent to the back of the line.” Luka leaned in to say the next part. “And since the park is part of Emberwood Village, you must be respectful to the land and inhabitants. You will be thrown out if not. Other than that, listen to the ride operators—they’ll tell you how to ride and what to do.”

Luka mentally shuddered at the “teaching” he had to go through to train the villagers how to operate the rides. For as simple as the ‘pre-programed’ control boxes made operations, the concept of telling riders to ‘keep all hands, arms, and legs inside the ride vehicle’ made things especially challenging. For some reason, orcs liked to live dangerously.

With that, the crowd bypassed the World Walker and entered the park. Since the WHEEL towered over the trees, most if not all, ventured straight for the ride. They funneled into the roped switch-backed queue, eagerly pushing their way through—then they were stopped by the ride’s operator.

The man’s name was Gr’rok, a middle-aged orc who prided himself on orcish heritage and traditionalism. When he and Luka met at the smashburger cookout, Gr’rok explained he used to live in the ancestral Dominion Plains—where it was said the first orc was born. But, after a lifetime of tribal politics, Gr’rok left his home in search of a place to set his feet and retire. Emberwood Village was his choice.

Gr’rok was the village’s biggest orc. Standing just over two and a half meters, he loomed like the very attraction he operated. Muscles fitted with tattoos and scars bulbed from under the man’s sleeveless park uniform—a simple T-shirt that read “World Walker Park” on one side and “Employee” on the other.

Luka chose to place the man on WHEEL duty for a single reason: because the man was intimidating. The anxious crowd shied away as Gr’rok halted them with a set jaw and fierce stare. The orc crossed his arms and glared, then jutted a finger at a sign.

The sign, highlighted by a ring of low-intensity light glyphs, explained the pricing structure for the WHEEL. For a single rider, it was seven copper pieces. For a party of two, it was thirteen. For a party of three, it was seventeen, and for a group of four—a single bungalow’s maximum occupancy—it was twenty copper pieces.

Payment was simple. A handoff of cash to Gr’rok allowed the riders in, and the big man dropped the coinage into a magically locked box, courtesy of Aunt Sol. All payments were final. If someone held an all-day pass, Gr’rok would simply allow them to ride without payment.

As the line filled the cattle-pen queue, people at the back of the crowd left for other adventures. The teacups were an instant hit. As it turned out, people, regardless of the world, liked to spin themselves until they hurled. Conversely, the spinning swings were oddly desolate.

After the park had been open for a few hours, Luka stood near the swings and watched for problems. Groups of people, be it families or friends, would approach, watch the swings spin for a few minutes, then turn around and join the line for teacups or the WHEEL.

“I just can’t figure out why people aren’t riding it,” Luka complained to Eve.

She raised an eyebrow. “Because it’s terrifying.”

“Is it? Ren and Nicole—”

“Are children and follow you around like lost dire-puppies.”

Luka gave her a look. “You rode it.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“After goading from you, yes. If I didn’t know the ride’s creator, I wouldn’t have.”

Thinking back a day, Luka went over the events of the ride’s inception. It was the last of the five opening-day rides and by far the “cheapest.” Without a massive bottom foundation, the main material cost of the ride was the “arms” connecting the swings to the spinning mechanism.

Truthfully, the attraction was lacking. Out of the five, it held the least number of flashing light glyphs and carved wooden paneling. And yet, Luka assumed it would be the most popular ride in the park! It was far and away the most thrilling, he thought at least.

Maybe Eve is right? Luka questioned himself. The people of this world aren’t used to rides, let alone thrill rides.

What was the solution then? Was it worth the materials if no one was willing to ride it? Could it be saved by dumbing down the fear factor? Luka and Eve watched as a pair of teenagers departed the swings, both laughing loudly. They exited the ride, only to return right back to the entrance, joining what little line there was.

“Excuse me a moment,” Luka said, stepping away from Eve. He stalked right up to the boys, joining the line right behind them.

They were speaking to the people in front of them, explaining the utter “freedom” the ride inscribed in them. Apparently, spinning through the air with their legs dangling made them feel as if they were birds—or, in one of their cases, a powerful mage flying through the sky.

“This is the best ride here, man!” one of them said. “Trust us, we’ve done all five—even the kiddy one.”

“I’m coming back tomorrow and only riding this one!” the other added.

Luka studied the duo, finding both of their legs shaking like jelly despite their smiling maws and blusterous attitudes.

“Excuse me,” he called to them. They turned, going wide-eyed when they recognized it was the World Walker speaking to them. “Mind if I ask you two a few questions?”

The first gaped like a fish. “A-are we in trouble, man?”

“No—”

“We didn’t do it!” the second practically screamed.

Luka paused. Teenagers, he thought. “No, nothing like that. I wanted to ask what your thoughts on the ride are. As you can see, the line for this one isn’t very long compared to the others.”

“Yeah, man,” the first said. “I can’t believe it! Isn’t it awesome! We can ride back to back to back!”

The second smacked his friend in the arm. “No, you idiot. Of course, it’s not awesome for him. He’s like, the king of the place and this ride’s not making as much money or something. Right dude?”

Luka nodded slowly. “Something like that… any idea why it’s not as popular? You two seem to like it.”

“Cause it’s too scary!”

Luka could hear Eve snort from a dozen steps away.

“The swings are like spooky, dude. Like nothing we’ve ever done or seen before.”

“Yeah,” the first quickly added. “Everyone’s afraid to try.”

The party of three directly before the two teenagers went stiff then muttered “excuse us,” and exited the line. Luka and the teenagers watched them go.

“Exactly like that!” the second said.

“But I don’t—” Luka stopped himself. “It’s not that scary of a ride, at least not compared to some of the rides in my world.”

The first nodded. “But like, dude! It’s the scariest one here!”

“What should I do then?”

The second plopped his hand on Luka’s shoulder like a proud father. “Nothing, my man. Just let my world figure it out.”

Luka visually traced the kid’s arm. “Uh-huh. Thanks…” Fishing his pocket, he handed the duo a few drink vouchers and quickly departed.

He rejoined Eve. “I think they might be on the puff.”

She laughed. “You think!? Get any sage advice?”

He gave her a flat look. “Maybe. Let’s wait a few days to do anything drastic with the ride. Maybe they’re right, and people just need a while to adjust to thrills.” He considered for a moment. “Although, I do have a name for the ride now.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“’Freedom.’”

Eve shook her head. “Don’t like it. How about something to do with the Goddess? Her showing up was something, wasn’t it?”

Luka shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

She practically sputtered, “W-what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means Goddess Tippy stole two smashburgers.”

“You’re crazy.”

“No—she admitted it when I was in her church.”

Eve just stared.

“Anyway,” Luka continued, “have you noted any other improvements we need to make for tomorrow’s opening?”

She took out a folded piece of paper from her pocket. There, written in chicken scratch, was a list. “A few, mostly minor—"

“OI!” a deafening voice yelled, cutting her off.

Luka and Eve turned to find a man dragging a young kid toward them. The kid, a boy, clutched the hem of his shirt, his knees pinched together.

“Can I help you—"

“What kind of establishment are you running here, World Walker!?” The way the man said the title felt like a slur. “No bathroom!? What kind of ‘other world’ did you create here!?”

“Bathroom…?” Luka glanced from the man to the kid. The kid looked away, his face red and his knees squiggling with the pressure of a full bladder.

Oh. Oh shi— Luka froze, a pain blooming in his chest. A force squeezed against his heart, mental rather than physical. How could I have forgotten bathrooms!? How could Tram or Ben?

“Luka?” Eve cooly asked, locking eyes with him.

He turned, finding the orc sibling to be like a light in the darkness. She smiled softly, keenly away from the father’s growing ire and the child’s growing misery. Eve gave him a gentle shove, pushing him off toward the lake.

“Sir,” she began, “you’re absolutely right. An oversight on our part. The World Walker will get right on that. In the meantime, why don’t you two follow me. I’ll take you to one of our resident’s homes where you, little one, can have some privacy.”

“I want a refund!” the man screamed.

“Of course, sir. We’ll get that taken care of after we deal with the little one—come on, follow me.”

Luka watched her guide the pair away and took a deep breath. His mind was reeling, and his legs were shaking like the two teenagers from earlier. But why? Was it the yelling? Was it the scrutiny of forgetting something so necessary like a bathroom?

Or maybe it was the realization that, since arriving in this world, Luka had not gone to the bathroom.

The Goddess remade my body; it seems peeing isn’t something I have to worry about now…

Luka quickly ventured to the lake. Some of the village kids were sliding down the stone slide, one of the village adults watching them. He waved off their attempt to make small talk, instead he found a series of boulders.

Tram explicitly said she didn’t want to take excess materials from the quarry right now—explaining Sneerhome technically owned every stone around the lake. Luka made the executive decision to ignore her. Bathrooms were a must.

As he magically carried the boulders over to the park, Luka thought about the man, his son, and the pain in his chest. It was anxiety, he recognized, the same as earlier at the gate.

I need to talk to somebody, he thought as a non-divine butterfly drifted past. And not a god.