The city's restless eyes had found him. Police patrols prowled where once only silence reigned. Cameras blinked red with new urgency. Checkpoints littered streets he once moved through like a ghost. The message was clear: Kane's raids had left ripples, and now the waters stirred.
He did not begrudge the attention — he knew it was a risk he had to take to prepare. But tonight, Kane returned to the sanctuary of the mountain home he had inherited, where the cold stone walls absorbed the weight of the world.
Inside, the basement hummed with mechanical life. Tables bore the fruits of past raids — weapons parts, electronics, foodstuffs — now being refined and repurposed into drones and supplies. The system interface pulsed faintly, an unseen backbone to his arsenal.
Kane had learned to move carefully, to lie low when needed. Now was one of those times.
The events of the last weeks had changed the game. Taking entire buildings at once was no longer a mere experiment — it was the new standard. Warehouses and armories blinked out of existence and into his inventory, and with them, their contents.
But this was just the beginning. The island he planned to make their home would need more than weapons. It would need life — greenhouses to grow food, fish farms to provide protein, water purification systems, waste recycling — an ecosystem that could survive when the world outside decayed.
Kane's screen glowed with detailed schematics of greenhouses, aquaponics systems, hydroponic beds, and modular farm buildings. His fingers traced routes for water lines and solar panels, noting potential energy sources and emergency shelters.
To build this vision, Kane would need workers — skilled hands to construct complex systems in record time. And money. Large sums, enough to hire crews willing to work double shifts, weekends, and impossible hours. The price would be steep — double the usual rates — but speed was non-negotiable.
He made calls using encrypted lines, negotiating contracts with construction companies unaware of the true urgency. Plans were sent, budgets agreed upon, and crews assembled under the guise of rapid commercial projects.
Back at the house, Reina sat amidst her growing kingdom of animated toys. The little rabbit, the wooden soldiers, and the plastic trucks all moved in choreographed harmony, a ballet of childish magic and pure will.
"Bun-bun, take box! Put 'way, 'way!" Reina instructed in her toddler voice, clapping her hands.
The rabbit scampered to a small crate, its tiny paws gripping carefully. In a shimmer of golden light, the crate disappeared — stored safely in Kane's system inventory. It weighed about thirty kilograms — the limit they had managed so far.
The room buzzed with activity as more toys began experimenting with carrying and storing small items. Kane monitored the data, fascinated to see his sister's power expanding in new directions.
"You're teaching them well," Kane said softly through the comm-link.
Reina's voice bubbled with pride. "I hewp! We hewp Kane!"
The days passed in a rhythm of quiet urgency. Kane stayed inside, avoiding contact, focused on conversion and assembly. Raw materials became drone components. Electronics salvaged and upgraded. Ammunition readied.
Reina's toys grew more adept. She extended her reach, her control stretching beyond the house — toys a block away stirred at her command.
Kane took the risk one evening to move to the edge of the property, testing the limit of her power.
"Can you make Mr. Bunny jump over the garden wall?" he asked.
A pause, then the rabbit hopped, clearing the obstacle with surprising ease.
"Range growing," Kane said quietly. "Good."
But time pressed hard. Two weeks until the island's purchase closed. Two weeks to prepare a fortress capable of sheltering them through the coming storm.
Construction crews would arrive soon, and Kane needed the capital.
He turned to a plan he had avoided: the bank raid. The vault was a fortress, but the rewards were vast — enough to pay for equipment, materials, and skilled labor needed for his ambitious project.
Hours were spent pouring over security layouts, patrol routes, camera blind spots, and biometric locks. Kane drew secret blueprints, mapping every detail.
He decided he wouldn't trust the work alone. He arranged to hire a team — professionals willing to work for double the usual rate, paid in full after the job. Trust was minimal, but desperation demanded allies.
Kane's voice softened as he spoke to Reina one night. "We have a big job ahead, Princess. You have to keep practicing. Your toys... they're going to help us more than ever."
Reina yawned but smiled brightly. "I pway good. Bun-bun hewp."
Kane smiled, brushing a stray lock from her face. "Good girl. Rest up."
Outside, the world churned toward collapse.
Global Collapse Countdown: 44 Days, 20 Hours, 7 Minutes
The foundation was set. The future was waiting.
Kane was ready to build it.