The island breathed with the weight of progress. Seven days had passed since Kane's last review, and every corner of the sanctuary was transforming—greenhouses blossomed beneath rising glass roofs, aquaponic tanks filled with water teeming with life, and solar arrays and wind turbines hummed steadily against the breeze. But today, the focus was sharper: defense.
Kane stood beneath the skeletal frame of the main workshop, watching as the drone assembly line churned steadily. Workers moved with practiced precision, assembling and testing drones of every class — scouts, gunners, snipers, and missile platforms. The growing fleet was now a living arsenal, awaiting Kane's command.
"Okay, team," Kane said to the small group of engineers gathered around him, his voice low but commanding. "We've got to synchronize our drones to work as one. Scouts feed intel to combat units. Snipers cover overwatch. Missile drones provide crowd control."
He tapped the tablet, opening a tactical interface that displayed a layered map of the island and surrounding forests. Colored dots flickered — green for scouts, red for gunners, yellow for snipers, and orange for missile drones.
"Autonomous patrol routes are set, but we need dynamic responsiveness. When one drone detects movement, nearby units should converge, assess, and neutralize threats efficiently."
The engineers nodded, their fingers flying across keyboards and tablets as they coded swarm algorithms and improved AI coordination. Kane supervised, his military training sharpening his commands into crisp, precise orders.
As the hours ticked by, Kane ran simulations, sending waves of virtual hostiles across the island map. The drones responded, converging in tight formations, flanking targets, and retreating when outgunned.
"This is it," Kane muttered. "We need this flawless."
Back at the mountain home, Reina's power had grown in leaps. Her toys now moved with uncanny autonomy — wooden knights wielded tiny swords, plush animals formed sentry lines, and plastic soldiers communicated with tiny gestures. Her giggles filled the playroom as she commanded her little army.
Kane watched her, a blend of awe and apprehension tightening his chest.
"Reina, can you make them do more?" he asked softly.
"More, Daddy!" she exclaimed, holding up a small wooden shield. "Toys fight! Toys protect!"
But the transformation was deeper. The toys began storing supplies directly into Kane's Infinite Storage remotely, though their capacity was limited—around thirty kilograms each. Yet this fledgling network meant Kane could command his miniature force to gather and distribute resources even when he was away.
On the island, Kane refined the deployment of drone squads. He tested layered defenses — scouts patrolling the perimeter, gunners positioned at choke points, snipers on elevated terrain, and missile drones held in reserve.
During one field exercise, a scout detected simulated enemy movement at the far edge of the forest. In moments, gunner drones swarmed, snipers took positions, and missile drones loosed a controlled barrage, obliterating targets with surgical precision.
Kane took notes, adjusting patrol radii and communication protocols. His mind raced ahead — what if real threats came in waves? How to conserve drone energy? How to avoid false alarms?
Meanwhile, Lena and Mara remained Kane's trusted support, still unaware of the full scope. He shared details of drone formations and security plans, careful to omit mention of his system and storage powers.
The city beyond the island seethed with unrest. Food shortages led to riots; government agencies collapsed under strain. Media coverage was a blur of emergency broadcasts and conflicting reports.
Kane's network informed him of blackouts, curfews, and violent skirmishes. The world was unraveling.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Kane sat alone in his command tent, reviewing a fresh shipment manifest when a secure message pinged on his encrypted channel.
He opened it cautiously. The message was brief but vital:
"Gold liquidation successful. Funds deposited. Transfer verified."
A rush of relief flooded Kane's chest.
Funds were now available in liquid form, ready to sustain the project's momentum.
He allowed himself a rare moment of calm, the weight of the looming apocalypse pressing less heavily for a breath.
But only for a moment.
Because the countdown marched on relentlessly.
28 days remaining.