The Monolith’s golden glow was the only thing that felt real in the silence of the substation. Safe inside the boundary, Ren and Chloe sat with their backs against the cold transformer cage, their digital interfaces projected in the air before them.

  Ren swiped through the [VOID SHOP] with a grim focus. To an outsider, it would look like he was merely staring into space, his eyes tracking invisible lines and his fingers occasionally twitching as he tapped at the empty air. The Shop was a cold, efficient marketplace. It sold sharpened steel, reinforced plating, and vials of shimmering liquid. But it didn't sell a single loaf of bread. It didn't sell a drop of clean water.

  The System would give you the tools to kill, but it wouldn't give you the fuel to live. To eat, they had to hunt.

  Ren shifted his gaze to the [POTIONS] tab. His health was still at 12/13, but he knows with his laboured breathing and the potential dangers around them it can easily drop. With a heavy heart, he tapped the icon for a [Small Health Potion].

  [COST: 200 FLUX]

  He hit the buy button twice. Two small, glass vials manifested in the air and dropped into his palm, filled with a liquid that looked like liquid rubies.

  [CURRENT BALANCE: 114 FLUX]

  He felt the sting of the price. He was nearly broke, and all he had was a few sips of recovery. But for someone with no natural healing, these were life insurance.

  Chloe, meanwhile, was scrolling through the [ARMOR] tab with the intensity of a window-shopper at a high-end mall. She was silent, her eyes darting across her private HUD, occasionally frowning or leaning in to see a detail only she could perceive. She lingered on heavy cloaks and full-coverage gear, searching for any keyword—UV, Light-Proof, Shade—that might help a certain someone survive the daylight. She didn't say it aloud; she didn't want to make him feel like a burden again.

  "Anything good in there?" Ren asked, noticing her prolonged silence.

  "It’s all so... aggressive," Chloe murmured, her finger flicking the air, then a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Though, if I wanted to spend all my money, I could buy the 'Desert Rose Leotard.' It gives a massive defense buff, but... well, let’s just say there isn't much fabric involved. It looks like something out of a comic book where the artist forgot women have internal organs."

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "I'm looking at this one set—'The Iron Maiden’s Plate.' It has a great defense stat, but honestly? It’s basically a metal bikini. I’d freeze to death or get a very weird tan."

  Ren felt his face heat up slightly. He caught himself imagining Chloe—the girl who usually lived in a track suit—wearing something that revealed that much skin. He looked away quickly, staring at the tunnel wall.

  "Don't get any ideas," Ren grunted, trying to sound bored. "You’d freeze to death in ten minutes. Is that the London look? Fighting monsters in a swimsuit?" Ren let out a short, dry laugh.

  "Shut up," she teased, a playful smirk crossing her face. "I'm just saying, the System clearly has a specific 'aesthetic' for female players. I think Mark would actually faint if I showed up to a date in this. He’s a bit of a prude."

  "Mark sounds like he’d get eaten while trying to find a polite way to ask a monster to move," Ren shot back.

  "He's not that bad," she defended, though she didn't sound convinced. "But yeah, he definitely wouldn't approve of the 'Battle Garter' set. Though the defense buff is surprisingly high for something that covers about five percent of your body."

  Ren shook his head, looking away. "Stick to the fatigues. At least you have pockets."

  Eventually, Chloe stopped scrolling. A soft chime echoed, and a plain silver ring appeared in her palm. It wasn't decorated; it looked like a cheap trinket from a street stall.

  "I bought this. It cost four hundred," she said. "It's a [Simple Iron Band]. It only adds +1 to my Defense."

  Ren stared at the ring, then at his own remaining 114 Flux.

  "Four hundred for one point? Chloe, you could have bought a better weapon for that."

  He looked at his own stats. He only had 1 point in Defense. He remembered the Terminal Weaver—every light-spike had dealt exactly 1 damage. If he had zero defense, would those hits have dealt 2? Or 5? At his low health, that single point was the only reason he wasn't a corpse.

  "I like the ring," Chloe insisted, sliding it onto her finger. "It fits."

  Time crawled. They sat in the golden silence, waiting for the amber sun to dip below the horizon. Finally, the light pouring through the collapsed ceiling began to dim, shifting from a bruised gold to a deep, electric plum.

  "It’s time," Ren said.

  They moved toward the debris ramp. This time, as Ren stepped into the opening, his shadow stayed soft and flickering. No weight. No hooks. He moved normally again.

  As they climbed, Ren checked his gear one last time. "Let's go over the rules. Just so we're clear."

  "I know them, Ren," Chloe said, her voice dropping into a serious, rhythmic tone as she enumerated them. "One: We always stick together. If we do get separated, we meet back at the Monolith."

  "Right," Ren nodded.

  "Two: If we’re being followed or chased while we're apart, we don't lead them back to our home. We hide, we lose them, and we wait until it's safe to return."

  "And the last one?" Ren prompted.

  Chloe stopped near the top of the ramp, her silhouette sharp against the purple sky. She turned back to him, her expression annoyed, her eyes narrowed. "Three: If it comes down to a choice... it’s better to preserve my own life than yours."

  She snapped the words out, clearly hating the logic behind them. Ren had forced that rule on her. He was a dying man with a rot-filled lung. She was the future.

  "Remember it," Ren said quietly.

  "I heard you the first ten times," she grumbled, turning back to the surface.

  They stepped out onto the open highway. It was a six-lane river of cracked asphalt, silent and haunting. The sky above was a stunning, impossible purple—the amber haze of the Flux mixing with the coming night. It casts a neon glow over the skeletal remains of the city.

  Ren pulled his hoodie up, his thermal vision snapping on, turning the purple wasteland into a world of cold blues and jagged whites.

  "No more hiding," Ren whispered. "Let's see what this world has for us."