Scene 1
The stars looked like they hadn't gotten the memo.
Trayvon stood in the middle of a junkyard full of broken history, watching a sky that still dared to look peaceful. Beyond the fence line, Atlanta shimmered like any other night—streets lit, sirens rare, people sleeping under the illusion that tomorrow would come just like the day before.
But Trayvon knew better.
> [Time Since Outbreak Initiation: 3 Hours, 27 Minutes]
[Public Awareness Level: 0%]
The world wasn't dying.
Not yet.
It was being stolen from.
The First Target – Quiet Pulls
They hit the small 24-hour pharmacy on Auburn Ave just after 2:00 a.m. Trayvon stayed across the street, fingers curled into his Bag of Holding like a pickpocket learning how to cheat time.
> [Interface Mode: Concealed Extraction – Targeted Scan Enabled]
The System scanned shelves behind the security glass without ever tripping an alarm.
Painkillers. Antibiotics. Iodine. Gauze. Stomach meds. Alcohol wipes. Electrolyte packs.
One by one, the items winked out of the real world and into his inventory. Clean. Silent. Digital crime.
> [Medical Supplies: Secured.]
[Bag Load: 0.7% capacity]
Mr. House:
"Sir, your looting proficiency is delightful. You'd make a wonderful warlord's quartermaster.
Trayvon:
"Stick around. I might just build a war."
Alice watched the street from atop a nearby billboard, silent and ready to move. Ramirez held the rear alley, weapon loose but not casual. They were sharp—professionals in their own right—but this? This was System-class theft.
They didn't break in.
They reached through.
The Grocery Backdoor – Tactical Invisibility
The next target was a grocer's loading dock.
No cameras. No guards. One sleepy teenager on break out front, scrolling a newspaper in print. Not a clue in the world what was approaching him from reality's blindspot.
Trayvon focused. Inside the store:
Bottled water
Portable stoves
Dried rice, vacuum-sealed chicken
Fuel canisters
Multi-tool packs
Flashlights
Rope, nails, duct tape
Two emergency radios in dusty boxes
Gone.
Just like that.
> [System Note: Localized depletion recorded. Risk Level: negligible – timeline unaware.]
Mr. House (chuckling):
"Stealing from people who don't know the world's ending. Efficient. Cruel. Delicious."
Trayvon:
"We're not looting the desperate."
Mr. House:
"Yet."
The Haul – Back at the Junkyard
By dawn, their loot was spread across the hood of a rust-bitten Impala. Inventory tags hovered beside each category in light only Trayvon could see.
Food: 10 weeks for 3 people (rationed)
Medical: Enough for for a small clinic
Tools: Repair kits, fire-making, fortification basics
Power: Batteries, solar trickle pads, chargers
Weapons: One S.H.I.E.L.D. sidearm, Alice's machete, one folding multiversal katana
Jake nodded, impressed.
"Three-person prep in six hours. No tracks. No sound. You got something good running."
Trayvon (shouldering the satchel):
"Better than good. I've got Mr. House."
> Mr. House (pleased):
"And you, sir, are almost ready for stage two."
Alice knelt by a small stack of folded tarps, tying them down tight.
"We need a place to lock this down. Something tight. Defensible. Off-grid."
Trayvon:
"Then we move tonight. We build tomorrow. We summon again when it's safe."
> [System Notification: 1 Silver Token Remaining.]
[High-Tier Summon Available.]
[Recommended Time of Use: Soon.]
Trayvon stared at the horizon. The skyline blinked in the early morning haze.
No one out there knew the world was ending.
But he had already stolen their tomorrow.
And now?
He was building his own.
Scene 2 – Second Sweep
Second night. Same plan. New targets.
Trayvon crouched behind a burned-out bus stop as cars passed lazily in the distance. The world still hadn't noticed it was dying. But he could feel it—like pressure building behind a dam.
Jake and Alice were positioned like chess pieces—one watching the back alley of a gas station, the other scanning rooftops across a dim street corner.
> [Time Since Viral Ignition: 1 Day, 2 Hours, 17 Minutes]
[Awareness Threshold: 3%]
[System Note: Civilian unrest detected in two sectors. Timeline acceleration possible.]
> Mr. House (quiet):
"We are approaching the ripple. One wrong step, and it all begins to scream."
Trayvon (under breath):
"Then we steal the quiet while we still can."
He reached into the Bag of Holding.
Target 1: Construction Supply Depot (Back Entrance)
Jake cut a path through the lot—non-lethal takedown of a guard dog using a noise lure and tranquilizer darts.
Inside:
Power drills
Bolt cutters
Wood planks, brackets, concrete nails
Roll-up fencing
Generators (lightweight)
Gasoline in thick, sealed jugs
All of it phased into Trayvon's inventory like vapor.
> [Construction Cache Secured. Structural Upgrades Now Viable.]
[Base Blueprint Access Unlocked – Tier I Fortified Outpost]
Alice:
"We can reinforce a door with this. Maybe even rig an upper deck. You know… in case something tries to climb."
Trayvon nodded.
This wasn't just prep anymore. It was foundation.
Target 2: Police Impound Yard – Risk Tier Elevated
This one was dangerous.
Locked gates. Real cameras. Night watch rotation.
Trayvon activated Shadowstep—blinked through a patrol window, dropped inside like smoke, and used Jake's EMP mini-charge to kill local electronics.
Inside:
Body armor
Shotguns (2)
Ammunition boxes (9mm + shells)
Flashbangs
Riot shield
Two drones in crates, partially functional
> [Combat Tier Upgraded: Mid-range Engagement Authorized]
He slid back out before the guard even turned the corner.
Rendezvous – Fire Escape Overlook
The team regrouped on the rooftop of a closed auto shop. The city was quiet, but tighter now. The stillness didn't feel empty—it felt watched.
Alice adjusted her new sidearm.
"This won't last."
Jake loaded mags in silence, eyes on the horizon.
Trayvon dropped onto a crate.
"Then we keep moving like it already ended."
> [System Notification: Resources amassed = Base Establishment Available.]
[Suggested Objective: Deploy Safe Zone Anchor in next 24 hours.]
> Mr. House (pleased):
"A fine night's work, sir. We've stolen tools, time, and tactical position. You're almost ready to call this place yours."
Trayvon (grinning):
"Then let's get greedy while we can."
End of Scene 2
Scene 3 – Capsule Drop
The sky had settled into a bruised orange, flickering faint across rusted rooftops and cracked concrete. Trayvon stood alone near the far end of the junkyard, the others keeping lookout while he held the final Silver-tier Token between his fingers.
It was warm. Buzzing. Almost eager.
Trayvon (quietly):
"Alright. Let's see what your gods left in the vault."
He pressed the coin to his chest and exhaled.
> [Silver Summoning Token Activated – FINAL USE]
[Multiversal Signature Detected: Dragon Ball Universe – Capsule Corp Branch]
[Reward Acquired: Capsule Corp DynoCaps – Survival Series | Quantity: 20 Capsules]
There was a sudden rush of air.
Light flared in his palm, and when it faded—he wasn't holding a sword, or a scroll, or some ancient relic.
He was holding a slim, rectangular case stamped with the blue and white Capsule Corp insignia.
Trayvon (grinning):
"You've got to be kidding me."
He popped it open.
Inside—twenty numbered DynoCaps. Each one gleamed with metallic polish, labeled in fine script.
#01: Modern House
#02: Sports Car
#03: Submarine
#04: Private Jet
#05: Mountain Cabin
...and the list kept going.
Medical Facility. Food Replicator. Gundam Mech. Even a damn Multifunctional Carrier.
> Mr. House (visibly impressed):
"You've been handed infrastructure, military deterrence, and a beachfront condo. In twenty buttons. How dreadfully unfair to the apocalypse."
Trayvon laughed under his breath and carefully slipped the case into his bag.
Trayvon:
"We're not just surviving anymore. We're building something that can win."
He held one capsule up to the fading light—#01.
> [CAPSULE #01: Modern House]
Deployment Status: READY | Estimated Deployment Radius: 20ft]
Trayvon (muttering):
"Save it for the new site. We drop when the Locker Room moves."
He turned back toward Alice and Jake, still patrolling the junkyard.
They didn't even know yet.
But Trayvon had just summoned the future.
End of Scene 3
Scene 4 – The Road Before Ruin
The wind shifted.
It didn't smell like oil and rust anymore—it smelled like rain and tension.
Trayvon stood at the edge of the junkyard, boots planted in gravel, the sky overcast above him like a blanket about to drop.
Behind him, Alice adjusted her gear silently. Jake checked the rounds in his sidearm, then re-secured the drone crate they'd salvaged.
> [Time Remaining Until Viral Spread Reaches Critical Mass: 2 Days, 01 Hour, 12 Minutes]
[System Advisory: Relocation Recommended. Static positions will become compromised.]
Mr. House (grave):
"Sir, I do believe it's time we make our exit—before the world remembers where we are."
Trayvon nodded.
"Then let's roll out."
He pulled open the Capsule Corp case, eyes scanning for #07.
> Capsule #07: RV Camper
Mobile living unit – Fully equipped for road travel and long-term off-grid use.
He stepped into the clearing. The ground was flat enough.
"Heads up."
He tossed the capsule forward.
POP–BOOM.
A puff of smoke, a ripple of space—and suddenly, a pristine RV sat gleaming under the darkening sky. Chrome trim. Reinforced wheels. Solar panels gleamed across its roof. The door hissed open with hydraulic ease.
Alice stared.
Jake blinked twice.
Jake:
"…I've seen tech. That ain't tech."
Alice (grinning):
"It's anime."
Trayvon just smirked and climbed in.
Inside was even better—mini kitchen, bunk beds, collapsible table with map overlay screen already syncing with Mr. House's interface.
> [Mobile Base: Active]
[Survival Mode: Engaged]
[Vehicle Security: Online – Cloaking Field Enabled During Inactivity]
Trayvon (to the team):
"We move north. Stick to side roads. We find somewhere we can see it coming before it sees us."
They loaded up. Engine roared to life—quiet, but strong.
As the RV rolled out of the junkyard, Trayvon glanced back one last time.
The world had no idea what was coming.
But now?
He wasn't waiting for it.
End of Chapter Three