The next day...
The sun rose higher, spilling golden light across the ruins. The dome shimmered faintly overhead, marking the boundary of safety the system had granted them. Beyond it, the world was chaos. But here, within the walls they had started to build, there was structure, not yet complete, but forming piece by piece.
The air was alive with sound. Survivors worked in small groups, voices raised as they hauled beams, stacked stones, and scavenged usable scrap. Some cleared debris, while others patched walls with whatever materials they could find. It wasn't perfect, but for the first time since the apocalypse began, it felt like progress.
At the heart of it all, the Cascading Starlight Fountain glittered like a jewel, its silvery waters casting light that softened even the harshest edges of rubble. People often stopped mid-task to look at it, awe still fresh in their eyes. For many, it was proof that the shelter would last.
But Zayden knew better. A fountain alone would not make them strong.
Zayden sat on a broken step, the noise of labour fading to the back of his mind as he opened his faction screen.
The translucent panel flickered before him, words and numbers scrolling in neat lines.
[Faction: Myth]
[Leader: Zayden]
[Vice Leader: Aiden]
[Generals: Isara, Tyrel, Amara, Dare]
[Population in Shelter: 497]
[Registered Members in Faction: 6]
[Faction Currency: 0 Credits]
[Territory Size: 1000m radius — Dome Protection Active (29 days remaining)]
Zayden's brows furrowed. Almost five hundred people were inside the dome, yet fewer than ten were part of the actual faction. The rest were… bystanders. Beneficiaries of safety they hadn't fought for.
He exhaled slowly, leaning back against the stone wall.
This was the problem. Without structure, without balance, the shelter would collapse. People would rely on the faction's strength without giving back. Resources would be consumed faster than replenished. Discipline would erode.
He thought of his past life, of shelters that had crumbled under the weight of greed and laziness. He had no intention of repeating that mistake.
The law of equivalent exchange echoed in his mind. Nothing is gained without giving something in return.
If Myth was to endure, then everyone needed to contribute. And to make that possible, he needed a system.
His gaze lingered on the "Faction Currency" line. At zero, it mocked him, an empty vessel waiting to be filled.
"Credits…" Zayden murmured.
The thought unfolded in his mind like a map. A currency unique to Myth. A way to measure contribution, reward effort, and enforce fairness. If someone worked, they earned. If someone slacked, they got nothing. No one would be allowed to live freely off the blood and sweat of others.
But a currency was useless without a way to track it. And with almost five hundred people to manage, records alone wouldn't be enough.
He needed something more.
Something systematic.
Something the survivors couldn't lie about or manipulate.
Zayden's eyes sharpened. He knew just the person who could help.
"Dare."
The tech genius looked up from where he was sitting, a small group gathered around him as he tinkered with one of his drones. At Zayden's call, he stood immediately, dusting his hands.
"What's up?" Dare asked, strolling over with his usual cocky grin. "Don't tell me you want me to install AC units already. Even nanomancy has limits, you know."
Zayden's lips twitched faintly. "Not AC. Something more important."
That caught Dare's attention. His grin faded into curiosity as he leaned closer. "Go on."
Zayden gestured, and a translucent screen appeared in front of him again. "You see this? Faction stats. Right now, we've got nearly five hundred people inside the dome. But look here—" He pointed at the "Registered Members" line. "Only six are in the faction. The rest are just… sitting here. Benefiting from the dome, from the fountain, from us."
Dare whistled low. "Yeah. That's a problem."
"I won't let this shelter rot from the inside," Zayden said firmly. "We need order. Rules. A system that rewards those who contribute and punishes those who don't. That's where you come in."
Building the System
Dare's eyes gleamed. "I'm listening."
"I want a system," Zayden said. "One that tracks people. Their contribution, their position, whether they're part of the faction or not. And above all—" He pointed to the "Faction Currency" line again. "—a currency. Credits. Earned by working, protecting, and scavenging. Spent on food, shelter, training, and resources. Equivalent exchange."
Dare rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So basically, no freeloaders. If you want to eat, you work. If you want shelter, you give back. Fair enough. But you're asking for something big. Five hundred people aren't easy to track."
"That's why we won't track them manually," Zayden said. His eyes narrowed. "We'll give them tools. Rings, bracelets, or wristbands. Something they wear at all times. Something that can project a hologram screen. That's where you come in."
Dare blinked, then grinned slowly. "You want me to make a personal status screen system."
"Yes."
Dare chuckled, shaking his head. "Zayden, you're insane. And I love it."
They sat together near the fountain, sketching ideas in the dirt. Survivors passing by gave them curious looks, but no one dared interrupt.
Dare pulled a handful of nanites from his pocket — silver dust that writhed in his palm like liquid metal. "I can make them into rings or bracelets. Something durable, self-repairing, powered by the fountain's ambient energy. Simple enough."
"And the functions?" Zayden asked.
Dare began ticking points off on his fingers.
"First, balance. Each item will show the person's credit balance. No one can fake it. It syncs with the faction system directly."
"Good."
"Second, position. Whether they're just shelter residents, registered faction members, or higher. That way, there's no confusion about authority."
Zayden nodded. "That will also make it clear who's responsible. No one can claim ignorance."
"Third," Dare continued, "I can leave space for future functions. Maybe trade requests between people, combat stats for fighters, alerts for tasks, stuff like that. The foundation has to be solid, but we can build on it later."
Zayden's eyes gleamed. "Exactly."
Dare leaned back, smirking. "So basically, you're turning this place into a mini society. Work equals reward. No work, no food. Harsh, but effective."
Zayden's voice was steady. "It's not harsh. It's fair. The world has already ended. Resources are finite. If we let people leech, the shelter will collapse in weeks. This way, everyone has a choice. Contribute, and you live better. Don't contribute, and you scrape by."
Dare whistled. "Cold, but logical. You're really serious about this 'equivalent exchange' thing, huh?"
Zayden's gaze darkened slightly. Memories of betrayal, starvation, and collapse from his past life flickered through his mind. "I've seen what happens when people live off others' efforts. I won't let it happen again."
Dare studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. I'll build it. Give me a day to get a prototype ready."
By evening, Dare had gathered enough materials from scavenged tech and his own nanomancy to create the first device — a simple black bracelet that gleamed faintly with silver lines.
"Try it," Dare said, tossing it to Zayden.
Zayden slipped it onto his wrist. At once, a soft hum vibrated through the air. A small holographic panel projected upward, words glowing faintly.
[Name: Zayden]
[Faction: Myth — Leader]
[Credits: 0]
[Position: Leader]
Zayden's lips curved faintly. "Perfect."
Dare grinned. "Told you. This is just the start. Soon, every single person in the shelter will have one. And with it, we'll keep order without breaking a sweat."
Zayden looked around the shelter, at the weary but determined survivors working under the fountain's glow. They were fragile, scattered, uncertain. But with structure, with order, they could become more.
"Myth will not just be a faction," Zayden murmured. "It will be the beginning of a world that makes sense again. And it starts here."
He clenched his fist, the Credits panel glowing faintly on his wrist.
"The law of exchange. The law of survival. No one eats for free."
And beneath the dome of safety, as night fell once more, the first Credits system was born.
But the work hadn't eneded, people still worked into the night, to give their shelter a shape.