Hours later—
Krista was busy inspecting the Glock 19, checking the slide and magazine when Olivia broke the silence again, her voice thoughtful.
"Maybe it's not just some random store," Olivia said, her eyes narrowing as if she were piecing together a puzzle. "Maybe there's some kind of logic behind what you can summon. Like... rules."
Krista frowned, setting the gun down on her lap. "Rules? What, like a Dungeons & Dragons spell list?"
"Not exactly," Olivia replied, her tone growing more insistent. "Think about it. You couldn't summon the Browning M2 or the Barrett, right? But you could summon a Glock, protein bars, water—all things that are technically legal, right?"
Krista scoffed. "So, what, I'm stuck with Walmart-tier items because some cosmic overlord decided to turn me into a budget Amazon Prime?"
Olivia rolled her eyes, clearly unfazed by Krista's sarcasm. "No, I think it's more complicated than that. What if it's like… I dunno, a magical server database or something? Controlled by some host entity. Maybe whoever transported us here didn't fully understand the specifics of Earth's tech, but they followed a general guide—like the ATF regulations, or the California Gun Compliance laws."
Krista gave her sister a skeptical look. "You seriously think some deity is running background checks on my online shopping spree? That's insane, Liv."
"No more insane than being in a world with three moons and demon knights," Olivia shot back, arms crossed. "Hear me out, okay? What if the power follows a set of rules? Maybe the host doesn't exactly know what's dangerous to humans like us, but they're working off some kind of... I don't know, an existing framework or guidelines from Earth?"
Krista sighed, leaning her head back against the cave wall. "You mean like an IF function in coding?"
Olivia's eyes lit up. "Yes! Exactly! Like, if 'Weapon is prohibited by Earth law,' then it goes into the 'Prohibited Items' pool. Maybe that's why you can't summon fully automatic weapons, or stuff like the Browning M2—it's too dangerous according to Earth's standards."
Krista shook her head, though she couldn't help but be intrigued by the idea. "That sounds a little too neat, don't you think? I mean, sure, the Glock makes sense because it's a semi-auto with a ten-round mag, so maybe that slips past whatever filter is in place. But it's not like there's an invisible terms of service agreement I signed up for when I got dumped into this hellhole."
Olivia chuckled, but her expression remained serious. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but think about it. You didn't summon a magical healing potion or an enchanted sword. You summoned stuff you already knew about—things that exist in the real world. What if the host only has access to information that fits within a certain scope?"
Krista stared at the Glock in her lap, her fingers absently running over the grip. The more Olivia talked, the less outlandish the idea seemed. Not because it made perfect sense, but because nothing in this world had made sense since they crashed into it.
"I guess it explains why I can't summon a .50 cal or a rocket launcher," Krista muttered.
Olivia nodded, excitement creeping into her voice. "Exactly! Maybe the summoning ability is restricted by whatever magical framework this world runs on, and it's trying to balance that with Earth's rules. It's like the host doesn't fully get the intricacies of our weapons, so they go off whatever they can find. Like, let's say it's based on laws or regulations—California's gun laws, ATF guidelines, or even some weird international treaty for all we know."
Krista let out a long breath, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "So you're telling me I'm stuck with summoning California-compliant guns because some otherworldly server admin is scared of high-capacity mags?"
Olivia snorted. "Maybe not scared, but cautious. Think about it, Krista. If this host entity wants to keep control over what you can summon, they'd need to put restrictions in place. And honestly, it sounds more like a system error than anything intentional. Like a badly written code that didn't account for context."
"Great," Krista groaned, shaking her head. "So I'm a fucking magic shopkeeper with admin restrictions."
But her laughter faded quickly as reality set back in. Despite Olivia's theories, despite the humor, the fact remained—they were still stranded, still hunted. And Krista's newfound power, as convenient as it seemed, came with limitations she couldn't afford to ignore.
"What do we do, then?" Olivia asked, her tone more serious now.
Krista stared into the dim shining down on them through the thick branches and leaves of the trees, her mind racing.
A half hour had passed since the two sisters had stopped their back-and-forth about Krista's strange summoning powers. Krista had spent the past dozens or so minutes in silence, occasionally sipping water and running her thumb over the grip of the Glock, deep in thought.
Olivia, however, was never the type to let silence sit for too long. She was pacing—or, as best as she could with her condition, rocking in place as she brainstormed, her eyes dancing with an idea that was clearly still in development.
"Krista," Olivia said, finally breaking the quiet. "I've got an idea. It's a bad one, but... it might just work."
Krista looked up, cocking an eyebrow. "Oh God, here we go."
"No, seriously, hear me out," Olivia said, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke. "What if we built our own online shop?"
Krista blinked. "Our own shop?" She let out a sharp laugh. "Are you high? We're in a medieval demon-riddled hellscape, Liv, not Silicon Valley."
"Okay, yeah, it sounds crazy," Olivia admitted, her grin not fading one bit. "But think about it! If your summoning power really is some weird blend of magic and programming, maybe we can screw with the system. Work around the restrictions."
Krista leaned back, skeptical. "And how exactly are we supposed to do that?"
Olivia's eyes lit up, her enthusiasm infectious despite the absurdity of what she was suggesting. "In programming, right, any code that's detailed enough can override an entire system if it's done the right way. If the system is part magic and part programming, like we're thinking, we could exploit that. Maybe your summoning power works like Amazon—pulling in items listed for sale from actual online shops. If that's true, then every item must have its own parameters, right? Strings of numbers, codes, descriptions—all that technical stuff."
Krista raised her brow, mildly intrigued but still skeptical. "And?"
"And—" Olivia continued, "—those items probably have secondary or even tertiary checklists that determine what's restricted. Things like high-capacity magazines, fully automatic fire, dangerous chemicals—whatever. It's all coded into the parameters. And if this deity or whoever sets the rules for your summoning power based on those parameters, then maybe we can fool the system."
Krista leaned forward, her interest piqued. "How do you figure we fool it?"
"Simple." Olivia grinned. "We build our own fake shop. Populate it with completely bogus listings—like, say, we list an M249 SAW, but instead of calling it an M249, we name it something harmless like Garden Defender. We edit the description, scrub out anything that would trigger the prohibited items check, and—bam—we've tricked the system into thinking it's something benign."
Krista snorted, shaking her head. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
"Is it?" Olivia shot back, her tone growing more insistent. "If your summoning power really is connected to some magic server or database, it could be pulling from anything with a valid purchase function. And if the items only need a specified set of details and parameters, then there's nothing stopping us from creating fake listings. We can tweak the descriptions, hide the fact that it's a machine gun, and the system wouldn't know the difference."
Krista mulled it over, rubbing the back of her neck. "You really think we can trick the host—or whatever's running this—into pulling data from a fake shop we set up?"
Olivia nodded vigorously. "Hell yeah. In theory, we'd just be providing it with input that it recognizes as legitimate, even if it's not. It wouldn't know we're lying."
Krista leaned back again, staring at the cave ceiling. "Okay, say you're right. There are a few problems with your genius plan. One, we'd have to actually build the website. Two, I'm pretty sure the minute we go online, the FBI or some other agency is gonna track us down—remember, we're fugitives. And three…" She paused, running her hand through her hair. "Even if we somehow pull this off, we'd need some way to hide our tracks. Wait a minute… do we even have an internet connection in here—"
Olivia smirked and cut her off. "That's the easy part. I've been studying computers for years now. I could put up a basic, half-functional shopping website in a week, tops."
Krista raised an eyebrow, amused. "When did you get so tech-savvy? Weren't you just a Twitch streamer?"
Olivia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "What, you think streaming is all I do? I've been more than just talking to chat. I've been poking around in the code of AI like Neuro-sama. Vedal even let me take a peek at some of the backend once or twice. It's Python-based, so yeah, it's confusing as hell, but I've learned a lot. Also, screw you—I've been doing my own study when you're in class—or cutting people up—"
"Olivia!" Krista grumbled. "Can we not?"
"Sorry, I couldn't help it," Olivia shrugged. "I've done my research. Upping my programming ever since that ChatGPT nonsense has been popping off. I didn't ask you to buy me an A6000 for nothing."
Krista chuckled. "Still. Building a website? Hiding it from the FBI? You'd need to host it on the deep web or something."
Olivia shrugged. "I could. If we can get the right hardware, I can run the site off a rented server on Earth. But if I use your credit card, it'll get flagged the second I make the payment."
"Which brings us back to the original problem," Krista said, folding her arms. "We'd need parts. Lots of them. And they'd have to be good enough to run a virtual machine without drawing attention. How the hell are we supposed to do that?"
Then… an idea dawned in her head. A lightbulb.
Olivia piped up from her makeshift perch against the tree bark. "Krista… summon me a server."
Krista's head snapped toward her, one blistered brow cocked. "A what now?"
"A server computer. You know—like, a workstation, prebuilt, ready to boot. Amazon sells them. Hell, Dell has their own storefront. Just type 'server' into your weird murder-mall interface and tell me what you see."
Krista stared at her like she'd just suggested they open a Starbucks in Mordor. But still—she closed her eyes, flicked open the glowing UI in her head, and muttered, "Fine. But you're the one explaining why we need a fucking data center while I'm still bleeding from ten places."
Names scrolled in her mind. She began reciting them aloud, each one like a curse spat into the void.
"Dell PowerEdge R740… HP ProLiant DL380… Fujitsu Primergy RX300… Lenovo ThinkSystem SR650…"
Olivia fumbled with her phone, the cracked screen glowing like a dying ember. Battery read: 13%. She scribbled a note, eyes flicking up at Krista when one particular name dropped.
"Stop. Dell PowerEdge T550. That one. That's good."
Krista pinched the bridge of her nose. "Cool, glad you found your shiny toy. Wanna summon the entire Best Buy while we're at it?"
"Not yet," Olivia muttered. "Next… look up hard drives. Like enterprise level."
Krista sighed and obeyed, flipping the page in her mind. "Seagate Exos X20… WD Ultrastar DC HC550… Toshiba MG09—"
"That one. Seagate Exos X20." Olivia tapped it down in her notes like she was building a grocery list instead of planning cybernetic necromancy in demon country.
Krista finally snapped. "Liv, even if we Frankenstein this shit together, how the fuck do you plan on powering it? Last I checked, this world doesn't have USB outlets—or any power outlet, in fact. You're basically asking me to build a tech startup in Silent Hill."
Olivia blinked, froze, then flushed red. "…Oh. Right. Power."
Krista leaned back, eyes half-shut in exaggerated patience. "Yeah, power. That thing you always forget exists because your Twitch stream ran off an outlet under your desk that, ironically, you never know where exactly. News flash: no extension cords in hell."
Olivia fidgeted, sheepish. "You're the engineer, okay? Can't you, like, solar panel it?"
Krista chewed her lip, thought for a moment. "Theoretically… yeah. Solar panels feeding into a battery bank. Couple of deep-cycle lithiums. Add a MPPT charge controller, DC-to-AC inverter, slap on a UPS for stabilization. Boom—DIY apocalypse Tesla grid. Except—" she spread her hands wide at the rotting forest, "—where the fuck do we set that up? We're squatting in hollowed trees and blood caves in the middle of bumpfuck nowhere. Not exactly Silicon Valley real estate. Even Kansas is better than wherever this is."
Olivia's grin faltered.
"And that's problem one," Krista continued, jabbing a finger. "Problem two: say we even get this shiny bastard powered on. How the fuck are we connecting it to the internet? Comcast doesn't exactly have coverage in Demon Fuckville. Different world, different physics. HTTP and WWW don't mean jack shit if the cosmos doesn't have cross-verse networking. For all I know, their internet runs on blood rituals and goat sacrifices."
Olivia's throat bobbed.
"And problem three…" Krista leaned forward, voice dropping. "Say, by some miracle, we solved one and two. Where are you hosting this 'fake website'? You planning to whip up a homepage for Amazon dot hell? DNS routing? SSL certificates? Wanna call up GoDaddy from another universe?"
The smugness bled out of Olivia's face. Paled—not ghost-white, but enough to humble her.
"I…" She clutched her phone like it might whisper back the answer. "I know languages, Krista. Python, JavaScript, C. I can code. But… web infrastructure? Dark web? VPN chains? Renting a server? That's…" Her voice cracked. "That's another beast. A beast I don't know how to fight."
Krista watched her little sister crumple, shoulders curling in. Olivia's lip trembled, her phone slipping to her lap as she whispered, "Even if we could rent a server back on Earth, PayPal wouldn't work. Fucking FBI flagged our accounts. We'd get hunted. And if the government figured out we were alive and kicking in another dimension—hell, I don't even know if they can even cross world, come here and arrest us. But still."
Her voice broke entirely. She slumped forward, eyes glassy. "I can't do this. I can't…"
Krista slid closer, one blistered hand awkwardly patting her back. "Hey. It's fine. It's okay to spitball dumb ideas. At least you're thinking. Me? I just shoot things till they stop screaming."
Olivia hiccupped, wiping her face.
"Our priority isn't running Geek Squad in this Dark Soul Narnia," Krista said firmly. "We find a settlement. A place to live. Food, water, shelter. Then we play mad scientists."
She exhaled hard. "I already burned nine of my theoretical ten summons for the day. So tonight we squat here again. Reset tomorrow, maybe. If the universe even has a reset button."
Olivia nodded weakly, though her mood sank deeper. "Fine… tonight we rest. Maybe I'll dream up inspiration."
Krista snorted. "Yeah, or dream up some eldritch bullshit that eats us alive."
Olivia cracked the faintest joke-smile. "Could be a vision. You never know. Maybe the gods'll send one."
Krista barked a laugh. "The gods? Piss off. If they exist, they're drunk toddlers. You think some divine HR manager picked me—me—for an isekai? A fucking serial killer organ harvester from LA? Nah. Every isekai anime I've seen picks goody-two-shoes virgin boys with porn stashes and social anxiety. Not me."
Her smirk twisted darker. "Whoever yanked us here is a half-brained, prophecy-addicted dumbass with omnipotence and zero managerial skills. Basically… every American CEO from the last decade."
Olivia couldn't help it—she laughed, even through the tears.
The fire cracked. The night pressed in. For the first time all day, they let themselves rest.