The last sliver of the orange sun vanished below the jagged silhouette of the city skyline. Darkness fell swiftly, as it always does in the tropics. The brief, beautiful twilight of Maghrib was over, replaced by a profound and threatening night. At 6:17 PM on what used to be a Friday evening, Kael was alone in the dark.
His first priority was security.
Adrenaline and the small boost from the monster cores were the only things keeping him going. He targeted the heaviest object he could find—the toppled cigarette display, a mess of metal and shattered glass. His STR of 6 felt woefully inadequate. Grunting, straining every muscle, he dragged it across the floor, the screech of metal on linoleum setting his teeth on edge. He wedged it against the broken frame of the front doors. He followed it with a heavy-duty chip rack and a broken slushie machine that felt like it was filled with lead.
It was a clumsy, ugly barricade, but it would slow things down. It would make noise. It would give him time.
With the entrance secured, his next task was to gather supplies. He needed to be smart, to think like the game designer he was, planning a character's inventory for a long quest. He found a sturdy-looking backpack in the "school supplies" aisle—a small mercy.
His first stop was the water. He stuffed five bottles into the backpack, the weight a comforting reassurance. Next, food. He ignored the chips and candy. His eyes, now more accustomed to the gloom, sought out high-energy, non-perishable items. Protein bars, bags of nuts, canned tuna. He found a can opener, a small but vital treasure.
Behind the counter, his heart leaped as he found what he was looking for: a fully-stocked first-aid kit. He opened it immediately. He cleaned the small cuts on his hands from his fall with an antiseptic wipe that stung fiercely, a pain that felt clean and necessary. He even poured a little of the antiseptic onto a cloth and meticulously wiped down the [Crude Goblin Blade]. The Minor_Tetanus_Chance=True tag didn't vanish, but it felt like a responsible, proactive step.
He worked in near silence, a ghost in his own sanctuary. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he had a moment to think. He sat on the floor, leaning against the counter, and unwrapped a protein bar. It tasted like sweetened cardboard, but it was fuel. His thoughts, inevitably, went to Lily. Was she hiding like this? Had she found a safe place? She was smart, resourceful. She had to be okay. He clung to that belief like a shield.
He looked at his own status, the pathetic numbers a stark reminder of his weakness. What was this [Undefined Error]? A cosmic joke? Or something more? His [Code Perception] had allowed him to survive, to exploit the rules of this new reality. But it was reactive. He was always on the back foot.
His scavenging continued. In a bin of clearance items, he found a heavy-duty flashlight. He clicked the switch. Nothing. He shook it. Still nothing. His perception confirmed the obvious.
// Item: LED Flashlight // Power_Source: Battery(D) // Float: Charge_Level=0.0
A flicker of an idea, as insane as his first attempt to unlock his door, sparked in his mind. He had changed a boolean value from True to False. He had overloaded a float value to break something. Could he... create something? Could he edit a 0.0 to a 1.0?
He sat down, crossing his legs, the flashlight held in both hands. He closed his eyes and focused, directing his will at that single line of code. He pictured the number, 0.0, and imagined typing over it, forcing it to become 1.0.
A sharp spike of pain shot from the bridge of his nose straight to the back of his skull. This was different. This wasn't breaking a weak point; this was trying to create energy from nothing. It felt like his brain was trying to lift a mountain. A warm trickle ran from his nose. Blood.
He ignored it, pushing harder, his entire consciousness focused on that single, stubborn digit. Change.
The code flickered. 0.0... 0.1... 0.0... 0.2... It was fighting him. He let out a strangled gasp, giving it one final, desperate push.
Flicker.
The flashlight in his hands sputtered to life, its beam weak but steady, cutting a perfect, clean circle through the oppressive darkness of the store.
A bloody, triumphant grin split Kael's face. He had done it. Painfully, messily, he had hacked light into existence. This changed everything.
He packed his newly charged flashlight and the rest of his supplies into his backpack. For the first time since the world ended, he felt a sliver of control. He wasn't just a rat scurrying through the ruins anymore. He was a rat who could make his own light.
He was about to find the most defensible corner of the store to try and get a few hours of rest when a new sound reached him from outside. A low, sputtering rumble, completely different from the guttural roars of monsters.
It was the sound of a combustion engine.
Kael's blood ran cold. He instantly clicked off the flashlight, plunging himself back into darkness. He crept to his barricade, peering through a small crack into the night.
Headlights were approaching, bouncing down the derelict street. A vehicle. Where there were vehicles, there were people. And in this new world, he had no idea if that was a good thing or a bad thing.