The Taming Barn was at least ten times the size of Roman's house.
It resembled a barn from the countryside on Earth, but much like house the exterior of his house was built in a majestic 17th Century style, Roman believed that the Barn's exterior and interior would be worlds apart.
When Roman walked into the barn, he was greeted by the sight of white walls and a marble floor. To his front, there was a glass door with no door handles, which led to a small room before a second glass door right behind it.
Roman approached the first glass door and the door sensor allowed him into the smaller space. As Roman was expecting the second door to open soon after, the first door closed behind him, trapping him in that space.
Roman began to panic.
But before he could react, Roman felt jets of wind blowing all across his body followed by a ding.
*Ding!*
[Host is now disinfected.]
[Host may now enter the barn interior.]
Roman laughed at his momentary panic, realizing how ridiculous his reaction was since this system seemed to be loyal enough to him and would not do anything to harm him.
The second glass panel door opened to reveal the barn space. The floor of the barn was covered in hay, typical for any barn one would find in either Aeon or on Earth. To the left side of the barn were four identical pens for his future beast and the beasts of his future teammates.
To the far end of the barn, there was a large exit with a similar set up to the front. That would be where the beasts could enter and exit from while going through the disinfection process.
To his right, Roman noticed a series of rooms labeled Medicine Lab, Infirmary, and Storage Shed.
Roman soon found out from the system that the Medicine Lab would be where Roman and his crew could develop medication to treat the illnesses of their beasts. However, for now, that space was sealed off and would only open when Roman either found a beast doctor or became one himself.
The infirmary was connected to the medicine lab and would function as a clinic to diagnose and house the injured or sick beasts.
Last of all was the storage space where Roman would store his farming supplies, crops, and other beast related items that he would not be using in the real world of Aeon.
The system created a convenient mechanism that enabled feeders to dispense food into the troughs of each beast pen directly from the storage room. This way Roman never actually had to feed his beasts directly, although doing so manually would allow for Roman to develop his affinity with his beasts.
Either way, if Roman was in a tight spot or incapacitated for some reason, he wouldn't have to worry about his beasts not being fed.
----
Carl let out a deep sigh after setting Roman down in his bed and tucking him in.
Ever since Roman was a year old, Carl noticed that Roman was slightly different from the other kids in the village.
He was quick to speak, and when he did, he spoke in a manner befitting of an adult. Carl scratched his beard as he recalled Roman's actions.
After birth, instead of crying when he needed to go potty or when he was hungry, Roman would directly point at what he wanted until his vocal chords and tongue muscles developed enough for him to speak about what he wanted.
No normal child did this.
Carl believed his son was extremely intelligent but was concerned that his son's intelligence and odd maturity would be detrimental to him.
After his wife passed, Carl often had to dress Roman's wounds after he came home at the end of the day from getting picked on by the other kids.
Carl knew this was all he could do. He didn't intend to confront the parents of the other kids. He needed Roman to grow up tough, and intervening would only develop a reliance on Carl.
He didn't want that for Roman.
He did find it weird, however, that Roman didn't respond to the jests of the other children. Roman didn't ever react. He just brushed it off like how other adults would brush the children off.
Naturally, Carl just assumed that his son was just a bit eccentric.
But at the same time, he was worried that Carl was too passive to lead a life out there. This was the reason Carl had suggested that Roman play it safe.
It wasn't all about the safety aspect of the Egg Hunt. Carl knew that even though his son was smart, his personality did not fit the rough and tough, might is right, life out there in the world.
If Roman wanted to leave the town, he'd first have to grow a pair, Carl affirmed.
In fact, Carl was mistaken. He assumed that his son didn't have the courage to stand up for himself, and his personality got in his way from making friends, but in reality, Roman simply didn't want to bother with these children.
Roman did not have any problems with standing up for himself and decided to only do so when it mattered.
Carl quickly left Roman's room, closing the door behind him.
He returned to the living room, made himself a cup of tea, and sat on the sofa that faced the family altar.
On the wooden altar rested a picture drawn by an artist slightly over year ago. On it, was his wife, Martha.
As if she could hear him, Carl began to talk to his wife's portrait.
"If only you were here, you would know what to say to him." Carl iterated.
"Today he even suggested going into the mountains for the Egg Hunt. He's just as bold as you were back in the day. He's your son, alright."
Carl's eyes welled up with tears as he recalled the bittersweet memories of his wife. The later it got into the night, the more Carl couldn't hold back his tears.
He missed his wife dearly.
Martha was really good with Roman. She knew what to say to him when he was down, and was quick on the uptake when Roman would come home with bruises.
Unlike Carl, she charged head first to the houses of the parents of the kids that would bully Roman. She was too overprotective of him.
But despite her concern for Roman, she also knew what Roman needed the most. Being an orphan in the past, Roman needed a family. Martha gave him that, and Roman thought it would last forever.
Unfortunately, Martha passed away not long after Roman turned four, and ever since then, Roman would come home with even more bruises than usual, or sometimes lie to his father.
Carl wished with all his being that his wife would be around to fix it all, but alas, reality was a different tale.
Carl finally rose from his seat, finishing the last bit of tea left in his cup before heading towards his bedroom to call it a night.
For now, he could only wish his dearest Rome the best for the Egg Hunt tomorrow. He had already done as much as he could have.