The morning after Reina stabilized, Kane retreated to his office. The wide desk was buried beneath scattered maps, old military dossiers, and blueprints of the merged islands, but today he wasn't planning raids or scouting missions. Today was about organization—about taking stock of everything he had before the final countdown struck.
He pulled open the system interface. Rows upon rows of icons glowed faintly inside his Infinite Storage. The sheer scope of what he had collected was staggering—crates of ammunition, food reserves, vehicles, fuel, construction machinery, and even entire sections of the mountain depots. But Kane's eyes weren't on the weapons or vehicles. Not today.
He tapped into the last of his hidden reserves—every last dollar he had once guarded with care—and converted it into something far more valuable than gold or guns.
Seeds.
The system log scrolled endlessly as he bought in bulk:
Wheat, corn, rice, barley.
Vegetables of every variety—potatoes, carrots, onions, cabbage, beans.
Fruits—apples, oranges, bananas, grapes, mangoes, citrus seeds.
And most importantly, rare and expensive spices—black pepper, turmeric, cinnamon, ginger, cardamom.
"Money won't matter when the world collapses," Kane muttered, his fingers steady on the console. "But food… food will be worth more than kingdoms."
The last dollar was spent. His account dropped to zero, but his Infinite Storage gleamed with the promise of fields yet to be sown. He leaned back in his chair, allowing himself a rare smile. Reina, Maya, Lena, the orphans, and the specialists—they wouldn't just survive. They would eat, trade, and thrive.
Once the seeds were secured, Kane turned his attention to the experimental weapons taken from the sealed chamber and mountain depots. Strange, alien designs filled his desk—prototypes that had never seen public use. A plasma rifle with sleek black plating. A bulky launcher marked with faded hazard symbols. A gauntlet that hummed faintly when touched.
He powered one on, bracing for malfunction. Instead, a system notification flickered before his eyes:
[System Integration Complete.][Experimental Weaponry calibrated to Infinite Principle: Ammunition and energy will auto-replenish.]
Kane's breath caught. Infinite ammo…
He tested a second. A similar prompt appeared. Every weapon—every last one—had been bound to the artifact's strange law of infinity. Even the war-suits and exo-frames now bore the same note: unlimited fuel, unlimited output, tied to the world itself.
But among the glowing tabs was one that stood apart.
[Special Option: LOCKED.][Unlock condition: Apocalypse Countdown reaches Zero.]
Kane narrowed his eyes. He hated mysteries, especially ones sitting inside his own system. But if it tied into the apocalypse's descent, then he had no choice but to wait.
Hours later, Kane left his office and made his way back to the mountainside villa—his family's old home. It stood silent, its walls carrying memories of a life stolen too soon. Reina's laughter as a toddler. His parents' stern but warm presence. His grandfather's booming voice.
Now, it was time to let go.
He placed his hand on the wall. [Store Structure – Confirm?]
The villa shimmered, folding into streams of light before vanishing into Infinite Storage. Not a nail remained. Not a scrap of wood or stone.
But as the ground cleared, Kane's eyes widened. Beneath the foundations, hidden under centuries of rock, was the dark maw of a cave.
Its entrance gaped like a secret that had been waiting for him alone. Cold air drifted out, carrying with it a smell of earth and something faintly metallic.
Kane crouched, peering into the depths. He didn't descend. Not yet.
"The world will change when the countdown ends," he whispered. "And caves like these… they'll hold things no one's ready for. Monsters. Resources. Maybe even relics."
He straightened, his resolve ironclad. "After the transformation, I'll come back. Whatever is inside, it's not going anywhere."
For now, the cave would wait. His focus was on survival—on building the foundation before the sky itself burned.
The clock ticked down. 3 days…Two… soon, the end would arrive.
The dark mouth of the cave remained behind him, a reminder of the unknown waiting for the day the world changed. Kane turned away, his focus snapping back to the living. To survival. To the things that needed him now.
Back at the island, the specialists were already busy with their assigned fields. Kane found Amara, the agricultural expert he had invited weeks ago, kneeling by the soil beds near the greenhouse. Her hands moved with confidence, even elegance, as she tested the tilled earth, her sharp eyes calculating everything from pH levels to irrigation channels.
"Amara," Kane called.
She rose and dusted her palms, turning toward him with a faint smile. "Checking in on your investment?"
"Something like that," Kane said, pulling a small pouch from his pocket. Inside were packets of the newly purchased seeds—spices, fruits, vegetables, staples that could feed communities for years. He held them out, the weight of his last fortune now transformed into the future. "I need to know the best way to cultivate these. Not just for immediate food, but for maximum output—something sustainable. Something we can use for generations."
Amara took the packets, her expression shifting to seriousness. She thumbed through them slowly, then looked up. "These are good stock. Rare, some of them. The trick will be balance—soil rotation, irrigation, and controlling pests without chemicals we might not have access to anymore."
"Chemicals won't be an option," Kane agreed. "We'll have to rely on what we can produce here."
"Then we'll need to create compost systems, natural fertilizer, and keep livestock close for manure cycles. I'll draft a full plan for you, but…" Her voice softened. "You did well getting these. When the world burns, food will be worth more than bullets."
Kane nodded. He'd already thought the same. "Good. Get me the plan tonight. Every step. I'll handle the logistics."
Hours later, Kane was back on the mainland, but this time he wasn't storming banks or raiding bases. His eyes were on the skeletal remains of factories that dotted the city outskirts. Many had collapsed years ago from neglect or partial demolition, their steel bones jutting out like corpses of a bygone age.
To others, they were ruins. To Kane and his system, they were resources.
He placed a hand against the rusted frame of a collapsed steel mill. [Store Structure – Confirm?]
In seconds, the entire wreck vanished into light, compressed and absorbed by Infinite Storage. A new notification appeared:
[System Conversion Available – Wreckage classified as Industrial Resource.][Converted Resource usable for: Drone Fabrication, Base Construction, Mechanical Upgrades.]
A thin smile crossed his lips. Perfect.
He repeated the process again and again, moving through broken factories, collapsed warehouses, and rusted husks of assembly plants. Each time, the system devoured them and reclassified them into usable matter. The progress bar in his interface climbed higher—his reserves swelling with every derelict skeleton he fed into storage.
By the time the sun dipped low, Kane stood overlooking a barren stretch of land where entire industrial blocks had once stood. The air smelled cleaner, emptier. The ghosts of industry were now his raw material for survival.
But he wasn't done. The last step was direct contact.
He arrived at a massive junkyard under cover of dusk. Mountains of twisted cars, broken electronics, and rusted machinery rose like a forest of steel. A heavyset man in oil-stained overalls leaned against the gate, squinting as Kane approached.
"You the one asking about bulk purchase?" the man asked, his tone skeptical.
"That's right," Kane replied, flashing a roll of cash—thick enough to silence doubt. "I want it all. Every circuit board, every scrap of aluminum, copper, and steel. And I'll pay double if you throw in anything with motors, wiring, or heavy plating."
The owner's eyes widened. He scratched his beard, greed fighting suspicion. "That's… a lot of junk. What the hell you planning, boy?"
"Recycling project," Kane lied smoothly. "You don't need to know the details. All you need to know is that I'll clear out everything, and you'll walk away richer than you expected this year."
The man chuckled, clapping his hands together. "Well, ain't my business what a man does with trash. Deal."
Kane shook his hand, sealing it. But in his mind, he was already converting the mountains of wreckage into drone frames, weapon casings, and modular housing units.
The world was heading toward collapse. While others still clung to scraps of civilization, Kane was carving the bones of the old world into the foundation of the new.
And Kane knew that every seed, every bolt of steel, every gram of copper, would soon decide the difference between survival and extinction.