Ranon stands barefoot in the clearing, purple eyes fixed on the spot where her vision showed her surrounded by devoted wives. She plants her foot deliberately in the center and presses down, feeling the alien soil of Koney give slightly beneath her weight. The land needs to remember her first, before anyone else can claim it. She tilts her head back to the purple sun hanging overhead, its plasma swirling in slow spirals. The light catches her white hair and casts shadows across her face. She lifts her hand, palm open toward the sky, and waits. The sun pulses once, then again, brighter each time. On the third pulse, a thin beam of purple light drops straight down and strikes the ground at her feet. The soil hisses and glows where the light touches it. When she steps back, a perfect circle of violet remains burned into the earth. Anyone who comes looking will see it from miles away and know this place already belongs to someone who doesn't share what she hasn't chosen to give. She walks the perimeter in widening circles, counting her steps. At the edge of the clearing, she begins to build. White stone rises at her touch, shaped by will and vision combined. The porch takes form slowly, each column placed with care. Purple trim winds along the railings. Gold accents catch the plasma light. She pictures wives gathering here in the evening, their voices overlapping as they share meals and stories. The structure solidifies, real now instead of promised. When the last step settles into place, Ranon sits on the edge of the porch and looks back at the violet mark burned into the center of her claimed ground. The territory is hers. The foundation is laid. Now she can begin. She rises and walks to the center of her marked circle. The bedroom will stand here. This is where she saw herself in the vision, where the wives gathered around her with devotion in their eyes. Purple carpet spreads beneath her feet as she pictures it. Lavender walls rise from the ground. Gold frames the doorway. She builds the bed last, its purple headboard high and ornate. Each detail matches what she saw. When it's finished, she stands in the bedroom and turns slowly, memorizing every angle. The structure is complete. The mark is visible. Any rivals who arrive will know this place is claimed and why. She steps outside onto the porch and looks across the clearing. Her empire begins here, with this ground and these walls and the wives who will choose to stay.

Ranon sits on the edge of the porch and runs her purple fingernails along the white stone. The bedroom stands in the center of her claimed ground. The violet mark glows faintly in the dirt. But no one has arrived yet to see any of it. She stands and walks to the boundary of her circle. A wife will come eventually. She showed Serana the ending and Serana chose to stay anyway. But others will need proof that the first one didn't leave when she learned the truth. They'll need to see that someone else already made the choice and meant it. Ranon lifts her hand toward the purple sun and pictures what she wants. A sphere materializes in her palm, glass and weightless. Inside it, colors shift and swirl like captured light. Pink bleeds into blue, then yellow, then violet. The hues move without repeating, alive and constant. She kneels at the edge of the porch and sets the sphere on the white stone where anyone approaching will see it first. The glass catches the plasma light and throws ribbons of color across the ground. It doesn't say Serana's name. It doesn't need to. It says someone was here, someone saw their fate, and someone stayed. Ranon steps back and looks at the sphere resting on her porch. The next wife who arrives will see it and know she isn't the first to choose this. But the sphere only proves one choice was made. Ranon turns and walks to the center of the circle where the bedroom stands. She needs a place to show each new wife their vision. A place that marks the moment of choosing, not the bedroom where they'll gather after. She pictures a small figure and it takes shape in front of her. A blank girl, white and featureless, standing waist-high. When a wife steps close, the figure will shift to match her, showing what Ranon sees when she looks at that person's future. The wife will watch herself in the vision, see the ending, and then decide. Ranon places the figure at the threshold between the porch and the bedroom. Anyone who wants to enter must pass it first. She kneels beside it and touches its shoulder. The surface is cool and smooth. This is where the choosing happens. The sphere on the porch shows that others stayed. This figure is where each new wife will learn why staying costs something real. Ranon builds a small purple mushroom from thought and places it beside the sphere. Then another. Then another. She pictures each wife who will choose to stay and makes a mushroom for them before they arrive. But she stops after the third one. Her hand hovers in the air. Making tokens for wives who haven't chosen yet feels like writing their names on a list before they've said yes. She picks up two of the mushrooms and closes her fist around them until they dissolve back into light. Only one remains beside the sphere. Serana's. The others will get theirs when they choose, not before. Ranon straightens and looks at what she's built. The sphere proves someone stayed. The figure shows the cost. The single mushroom waits for the next. She walks back to the bedroom and lies down on the purple bed. Her chest feels lighter. The next wife who comes will see evidence, not promises. They'll know what they're choosing because someone else already did.