I walked everywhere.

The Forest was ninety lumberjacks and the sound of ninety axes, and me standing in the middle of it like a ghost from a desk — nothing there was mine, and I loved watching it anyway. The Amoeba Wilds had ruins with nothing left to guard, and one silent figure who called himself Guardian and wouldn't speak to a stranger. I stood in the Volcano's forge-light. I sat by the river in Bison Valley and was quieter than I've ever been. I went down into the Miners Cave, deep and dark. I walked the Construction Yard — fifty empty plots, a million crystal each, towers that only exist as someday — and I dreamed at them for free.