She bought:
— Vacuum-packed meat, smoked or salted for shelf life.
— Jars of pickled vegetables, beans, olives, and jams.
— Bags of dried fruit, whole grains, nuts, lentils.
— Pouches of heirloom seeds for everything from kale to strawberries.
— Boxes of powdered eggs, dried cheese, ghee.
— Sacks of onions, garlic, potatoes.
— Spices, whole and ground — cumin, cinnamon, black pepper, bay leaves.
Each stall was a different vendor. She asked casual questions, paid fairly, even tipped once or twice. The Linx's cargo bay filled quickly, and with far heavier loads than the day before.
Whenever she was out of sight — parked beside an abandoned service station or under the shade of an old rail bridge — she activated her ability.
[Item Box – Activated]
Again, and again.
The box absorbed crates of produce, sacks of grain, small barrels of salt and vinegar. Everything categorized. Everything balanced.
…
By noon, she was sweating. Not from heat — the Linx's climate system was pristine — but from focus. Her mind never rested. Every item was part of a pattern, a calculation. How long would this last? What nutrients would they lack after three months? How many people could she feed, and for how long?
The numbers were relentless.
She drove to a wholesale feed store before returning — one that catered to small farms. There, she acquired:
— Feed for chickens and rabbits, in case she could raise some post-collapse.
— Germination trays and organic soil packets.
— Water filters and spare caps for containers she hadn't even bought yet.
The man behind the counter offered to help her load. She politely declined.
She was already loading everything — just not in a way he could see.
…
Evening was already creeping in when she finally turned the Linx toward home. Her legs ached from standing. Her back twinged when she adjusted her posture. But her eyes were bright. Focused.
She'd gained a lot today — and not just supplies.
The Item Box had leveled up. She could feel it. The internal space had shifted — subtly but surely — offering her more volume, better organization, even a quicker draw. It hadn't notified her with fanfare or system alerts. She just knew.
Ametrine parked again at her grandmother's house, but didn't unload.
There was no need.
The day had taken most of her, but she'd taken far more from it.
Tomorrow would be water.
And that… required a different kind of plan.
…
Thursday Morning
At 6:14 a.m., Ametrine stood before the mirrors of a half-lit gym, hoodie sleeves rolled up, gaze locked on her reflection.
Not for vanity.
For progress.
She'd remembered, while brushing her teeth the night before — a casual mention in a forum thread, buried under system speculations and stat theories:
"Exercise correlates to minor permanent stat gains. Strength, Vitality, even Stamina. If you train pre-awakening, you carry those improvements into the new world."
A loophole.
A secret.
And Amy loved secrets.
She hit the treadmill first — light run, then sprints. A short circuit of machines followed. Rows, squats, pull-ups. Her form was efficient, not showy. She didn't push to failure; she pushed to sustainability.
Just enough to stress her system.
Just enough to be measurable.
By the time she left, her muscles buzzed and her stats… tingled. There was no ping, no banner. But when she glanced at her interface — subtle and translucent — the [Strength: +0.1] shimmered faintly beside her name.
That was enough.
…
Midday
Her final supply run was the most conspicuous.
Because this time, it wasn't food that filled shopping carts. It was liquids — and lots of them.
She started at a warehouse club store, entering with a borrowed guest pass, armed with a large-capacity cart and her usual blank expression. She moved like someone preparing for a long camping trip — or a truly overzealous emergency drill.
She bought:
Flat after flat of bottled water — purified, spring, mineral.5-gallon jugs with stackable crates.Isotonic drinks: electrolyte-rich and shelf-stable.Powdered drink mixes, including protein shakes, teas, and vitamins.Canned soups and broths.Liquid IV packs, caffeine-free.Distilled water for cleaning or medical purposes.
One cart became two. Two became four.
Each time, she walked the carts out to the Linx — transferred them into her Item Box behind a privacy screen — then returned as if she'd only just arrived.
It was tedious.
It was intentional.
She changed stores halfway through the day. Drove to a smaller city, hit another chain warehouse, and repeated the process — this time, including:
Portable water containers, collapsible and BPA-free.Water purification tablets and UV filters.Alcohol — not for drinking, but as antiseptic and barter.Flavored milks, long-lasting cartons for calcium.Coconut water, high in potassium.
Her movements were sharp, but not hurried. Everything was deliberate. She never gave them a reason to remember her.
By late afternoon, the Linx's cargo space — and her Item Box — were dense with liquid weight. The most dangerous part of her preparations was complete.
And as she drove back toward the house in the outskirts, the one her grandmother had left behind, Amy let herself finally breathe.
She was almost ready.
Just a few more days.
A few more threads to pull.
Then everything would begin.