John Weathers III arrived on ResistanceCraft Version 27 Reset carrying grief he could not drop. He had lost twenty family members, and the world felt hollow. To keep moving, he chose a simple mission: build roads.
To him, every road meant direction, a line you could follow when life refused to make sense. He claimed land and started a town from scratch. It was rough and awkwardly planned, but it was his, built block by block.
Houses leaned into odd shapes. Materials clashed. Paths curved for no reason and ended too early. Travelers laughed sometimes, helped sometimes, and stared most of the time. John did not care. He kept laying routes outward, naming them Weathers Roads.
Then a builder arrived: Dev Whartz. Dev looked at the town and the roads and said what others only joked about: this is trash. Not whispered, not softened, just dropped like gravel. John went quiet and kept building, jaw tight.
Dev said he wanted to rebuild the road network, make it clean, make it proper, connect it correctly. John did not hear proper. He heard erase. Those roads were hours, memory, and control in a world that took everything else.
John drew a border with one blunt warning, public like a sign in the town square. He did not argue or explain, he just set the rule in plain words for everyone to see: dev if you build those roads im deadass quitting the server.
The server went quiet because everyone knew he meant it. John stood in his half-finished town, staring down messy streets and watching the wild beyond them, waiting to see whether Dev would respect the line or cross it.