Cassius woke up exhausted from the night before.
He glanced at Kate, still fast asleep beside him, and shook his head with a small smile.
The woman had insisted on practicing her "foreign language skills."
Guess she wore herself out.
Still, reading the book from the back always had its own appeal.
He'd enjoyed the experience thoroughly last night.
Cassius gave her a gentle pat. She mumbled something and rolled over, still out cold.
He got up quietly.
The system panel showed his [Acting Realm] progress at 17.8 percent.
Another half-percent overnight. Slow going without any high-difficulty roles lately.
He remembered the newly refreshed instances in the Dream Experience Space and decided it was time to take a closer look.
Back home, Cassius opened the panel and stepped into the space.
The library still showed the same three options he'd seen before:
The Wolf of Wall Street – Jordan Belfort (Beginner Instance)
The Pianist – Władysław Szpilman (Intermediate Instance)
The King's Speech – King George VI (Beginner Instance)
None of them were what he needed right now. He was focused on deepening his understanding of fatherhood for Interstellar.
He'd already lived Cooper's life once, but another angle couldn't hurt.
[Auto-refresh in 21 days.]
Too long.
Cassius stared at the [Manual Refresh: $100,000 per use] button.
A hundred grand.
After the massive Fast & Furious 5 payout, it wasn't even pocket change.
He tapped it.
The panel flashed.
Three new instances appeared:
Pretty Woman – Edward Lewis (Beginner Instance)
Cost: $1,000,000
Expected Rewards: Upper-class poise, romantic-comedy rhythm, tension between money and emotion
Warning: May cause materialistic tendencies or emotional detachment
Whiplash – Andrew Neiman (Intermediate Instance)
Cost: $2,000,000
Expected Rewards: Artistic obsession, performance under extreme pressure, intense mentor-student dynamics
Warning: May cause anxiety or perfectionist compulsions
Home Front – Phil Brock (Intermediate Instance)
Cost: $2,000,000
Expected Rewards: Ex-DEA agent combat instincts, single father's protective drive, quiet loneliness of small-town life
Warning: May cause hyper-vigilance or residual violent tendencies
Cassius's eyes locked on the last one.
Home Front.
He remembered the movie. Jason Statham as a retired DEA agent hiding in a small Louisiana town with his daughter after his wife is murdered. When trouble finds them, he has to use every skill he has to protect her.
The father-daughter protection angle lined up perfectly with Cooper's story in Interstellar, but from the opposite side—one man leaving to save the world, the other staying to guard what's left of his.
Plus, the combat instincts would sharpen his action scenes later.
He made his choice.
"Lock it in."
He selected the Home Front instance.
[Confirm entry into Home Front – Phil Brock dream instance? Cost: $2,000,000. Estimated real-world time: 6 hours.]
He tapped confirm.
His phone buzzed—bank alert. Two million dollars gone.
Exhaustion hit him like a truck, heavier than last time.
Cassius barely made it to the bedroom before he collapsed onto the mattress, consciousness fading fast.
When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he smelled was fresh-cut pine and paint.
He was lying on an unfinished wooden bed frame. Tools were scattered nearby—power drill, screwdriver, level.
He sat up and looked around.
Small room. Freshly painted white walls still slightly damp. No curtains on the windows. Outside he could see woods and distant hills.
He looked down at his hands.
Rough, calloused, scarred knuckles. An old gun-callus on the web of his right thumb.
Phil Brock. Forty-two. Former DEA agent. Wife murdered in retaliation after his cover was blown. Now living under a new name in this quiet Louisiana town with his ten-year-old daughter, Maddie.
He'd bought this old house with what was left of his savings and was fixing it up himself.
"Dad!"
A girl's voice called from downstairs.
Cassius stood and headed down.
The stairs didn't have a railing yet. He moved carefully.
In the living room, a ten-year-old girl with brown hair and bright blue eyes sat on the floor surrounded by puzzle pieces.
Maddie.
"Look!" She held up a completed corner. "I finished the border already!"
Cassius crouched beside her, the motion feeling completely natural.
He ruffled her hair. "Nice job. Hungry? I'll make breakfast."
"More canned stuff?" She wrinkled her nose.
"Nope. Got real food today." He headed for the kitchen. "Bought chicken and vegetables yesterday."
The fridge was sparse but organized—chicken wrapped tight, vegetables washed and boxed, a few cheap cans of beer on the door shelf.
He started cooking.
His hands moved on muscle memory, but he instinctively added his own touches—seasoning the chicken the way he liked.
When breakfast was ready, Maddie dug in happily.
"School okay?" he asked.
"Still don't get math, but Ms. Jenny said I can stay after for help."
"You gonna go?"
Maddie shrugged. "I don't want the other kids calling me stupid again."
Cassius felt a protective surge that wasn't just acting. It came straight from the body.
"You're not stupid. You just need time. And if anyone says that again, you tell me."
His tone was calm, but the steel underneath was unmistakable.
After breakfast he drove her to school.
The town was tiny—one main street, a couple stores, a gas station, and the K-12 school.
He dropped her at the front gate.
"Three o'clock I'll be right here."
"I can walk home."
"No. I'll pick you up."
Maddie sighed but didn't argue. She gave him a quick hug and ran inside.
Cassius watched until she disappeared, then drove away.
He didn't head straight home.
Instead he stopped at the hardware store.
Bought lumber, nails, and a few other things for the upstairs floor.
While waiting, he casually scanned the store layout—exits, sight lines, possible cover.
Old habits.
Back at the house he tore up the damaged floorboards, cleaned the subfloor, cut new pieces, and nailed them down.
The work was physical, but his hands knew exactly what to do.
Halfway through he paused, hammer in hand, and looked around the quiet house.
He was Phil Brock now—hiding in a small town, fixing up a house, raising his daughter alone.
But he was also Cassius Cass, Hollywood actor who had lived Cooper's life and felt the crushing weight of leaving a child behind.
Two fathers.
One left to save the world.
One stayed to protect what little he had left.
Both carried the same ache.
He went back to work, driving each nail with steady, deliberate force.
At 2:30 he cleaned up, changed clothes, and drove back to the school.
When Maddie ran out, she was smiling.
"Ms. Jenny said I did really good on the extra problems today!"
"That's my girl."
They stopped for ice cream on the way home—small vanilla cone for her, black coffee for him.
Sitting on the bench outside the shop, Maddie licked her cone and asked, "Are we gonna stay here forever, Dad?"
Cassius looked at her, the late-afternoon sun catching her hair.
"I don't know, kiddo. But wherever we are, I've got your back. Always."
She leaned against his arm, content.
For the first time since entering the instance, Cassius felt something click into place.
He wasn't just playing Phil Brock.
He was starting to understand him.
And that understanding was going to make every father he played from now on feel real.