The pounding didn't stop.
It changed.
What had been frantic became methodical, the impacts spacing themselves out just enough to suggest pressure rather than panic, as if the mass outside had settled into a single unyeilding purpose and was content to apply it until something gave.
The barricade held, the warped shelving locked into the reinforced frame in a way that shouldn't have worked as well as it did, but every strike still carried through the structure and into the floor beneath their feet.
Arty sat with his back against a steel column, his head tilted slightly forward, eyes half-focused on nothing and everything at once.
The world had narrowed to breath, pulse, and the dull ache that spread through his chest and arms like he had run far past exhaustion and kept going anyway.
The system hovered.
Unmoving.
Unconcerned.
Level: 1
Debt: 1,000,000,000
Crystals Held: 0
He stared at the zero's longer than he should have.
Not because it surprised him, rather because it meant something now.
Leah crouched in front of him, one hand still resting lightly against his shoulder as if checking that he hadn't slipped further than he realised.
"You pushed too hard," she said quietly.
He let out a slow breath. "Yeah."
"Is that a one-time thing or is it going to drop you every time you use it?"
"Don't know yet."
She nodded once, absorbing that without liking it. "Then we assume worst case."
"Fair enough." Arty chortled
Tom leaned against a nearby rack, arms folded, watching the barricade as if staring at it long enough might convince it to become permanent.
"They're not leaving," he said.
"No," Arty replied. "They won't."
Dale shifted on the pallet, a low exhale slipping through his teeth as he adjusted his position.
"So what's the play then?" he asked. "Because unless one of you has a plan that involves us teleporting out of here, we've got a reinforced door and no way to actually clear what's outside it."
Arty closed his eyes for a second.
Not to rest.
To think.
The system had given him something real.
Metal manipulation.
Not strong.
Not efficient.
Not sustainable.
Just real.
It had also taken everything to do it.
And that was the part that mattered.
He opened his eyes again and focused on the panel.
Options.
Convert.
Upgrade.
Nothing new.
No hidden solution waiting politely for him to notice it.
Of course not.
The system didn't solve problems.
It priced them.
The pounding shifted again, a heavier impact landing low against the barricade, followed by a dragging scrape as something outside slid down the metal before climbing back up to push again.
"They're stacking properly now," Tom said. "Not just walking into it."
"They're learning," Leah added.
Arty nodded slowly.
That confirmed what he had already felt.
Time didn't just work for them.
It worked against them too.
The longer they stayed, the worse it would get.
"We can't hold this forever," he said.
Leah's eyes flicked to him. "Then what?"
"We use it," he replied. "This buys us time to move, not time to sit."
"To where?" Tom asked.
Arty didn't answer immediately.
Because the truth was—
He didn't have somewhere better.
Not yet.
The warehouse was good.
Not perfect.
Not long-term.
Better than the house.
Better than the open road.
Still a temporary solution.
Which meant they needed something else.
Something that could grow.
The thought settled in with a weight that felt almost as heavy as the system itself.
This wasn't about surviving today.
It was about building something that could survive tomorrow.
The panel flickered.
A new line appeared.
Subtle.
Easy to miss.
Objective Updated
Arty's focus snapped to it.
He hadn't selected anything.
He hadn't asked for anything.
The system didn't care.
It updated anyway.
The line expanded.
Establish a sustainable base
He let out a slow breath.
"There it is," he murmured.
"What?" Leah asked.
"The first real instruction."
She frowned. "Instruction?"
He nodded toward the space around them. "This isn't it."
Tom looked around. "Looks pretty good compared to outside."
"For now," Arty said. "Not long-term."
Dale gave a tired laugh. "Long-term? Mate, I'm just trying to make it through to tonight."
Arty glanced at him. "Exactly."
Silence settled for a moment, broken only by the steady impacts against the barricade.
Then Leah spoke.
"So we leave."
It wasn't a question.
It was a decision forming in real time.
Arty nodded once.
"Yeah."
Tom pushed off the rack. "And go where?"
Arty stood slowly, the lingering fatigue pulling at him but not stopping him.
He walked toward the nearest aisle and looked deeper into the warehouse, this time not scanning for threats but for resources.
Shelving.
Metal stock.
Tools.
Machinery.
A forklift sat idle near the far end, its battery indicator dark but intact.
"This place gives us materials," he said. "Not safety."
Leah followed him a few steps, her eyes tracking the same space.
"You're thinking bigger."
"I'm thinking more along the line of what's necessary."
Tom joined them. "You've got a place in mind?"
Arty shook his head. "Not yet."
"That's comforting."
"It will be," Arty said, "when we find one that actually works."
The system flickered again.
Another line.
Different.
More precise.
Scan available: 1 use
Arty froze.
"That's new."
Leah noticed immediately. "What now?"
"There's a scan," he said slowly. "One use."
"For what?"
He focused on it.
The text expanded.
Scan environment for optimal base location
His pulse kicked.
"That," he said, "is useful."
Tom let out a low whistle. "No kidding."
Leah's expression tightened. "What's the cost?"
Arty checked.
Nothing listed.
That alone made him wary.
"No cost shown."
"That's worse," she said immediately.
"Yeah."
Because free didn't exist.
Not here.
Not anywhere this system touched.
The pounding on the barricade intensified again, the metal groaning under the sustained pressure.
Time.
Always time.
Arty looked at the scan option.
One use.
No cost.
No explanation.
Exactly the kind of thing that would either save them—
Or screw them in a way he wouldn't see coming until it was too late.
Tom shifted his weight. "We don't have the luxury of overthinking this."
Leah didn't take her eyes off Arty. "No. We don't."
Dale leaned back against the pallet. "At this point, I'm voting for anything that gets us out of this building before that door decides it's had enough."
Arty exhaled slowly.
Decision.
Again.
Everything came down to that.
Spend.
Risk.
Move.
He focused on the panel.
"Scan. Confirm."
For a split second—
Nothing happened.
Then the world changed.
Not physically.
Not in the way the metal had responded.
This was different.
His vision expanded.
Not wider.
Deeper.
Lines spread outward from his position, faint at first, then clearer, mapping space in a way his brain struggled to process.
Structures highlighted themselves, buildings shifting in his awareness as if ranked by something he didn't fully understand.
Distance.
Access.
Defensibility.
Resources.
All of it layered over the real world like a second reality trying to overlay itself onto the first.
Arty staggered slightly as the information hit.
Leah grabbed his arm. "Arty—"
"I'm good," he said, though his voice came out tighter than he intended.
The map stabilised.
One location pulsed brighter than the rest.
Not close.
Not far.
Positioned at the edge of the industrial district where it met a stretch of undeveloped land and scattered high-rise construction.
A partially completed complex.
Multiple structures.
Elevated access.
Limited entry points.
Space to grow.
His breath slowed.
"That's it," he said quietly.
"What is?" Tom asked.
"Our next move."
Leah studied him. "You're sure?"
Arty didn't answer immediately.
Because the system updated again.
One final line appearing beneath the scan result.
Warning: high threat zone
He smiled slightly.
Not because it was good.
Because it was honest.
"Yeah," he said.
"I'm sure."
Behind them, the barricade groaned under another heavy impact.
Inside, the system settled.
Outside, the world kept closing in.
Arty looked at the highlighted location one more time.
Then at the door.
Then at the people behind him.
And the decision locked into place with a clarity that cut through everything else.
"We're not surviving this," he said quietly.
Leah frowned. "What?"
He met her eyes.
"We're building something that does."
"For the first time… he wasn't afraid of dying, he was more afraid of choosing wrong."