Seven shards later, I had a sanctioned pen and three official System-approved journals. I tucked everything into the messenger bag and slung it over my shoulder. It felt good — grounding, even.

  Still… the whole ‘take off your shirt before touching anything’ routine was getting old fast. I needed gloves. Not winter gloves — more like the kind golfers use.

  I made a mental note to find a sporting goods store.

  It didn’t take long. The place I found was huge, packed wall to wall with gear. Honestly, I had no idea there were so many things related to exercise. I wasn’t a fitness nut by any stretch, but I recognized most of the equipment…

  And that’s where my knowledge ended.

  The rest looked like medieval torture devices redesigned by someone obsessed with protein shakes.

  There were a lot of obvious gaps — empty spaces on shelves, missing racks, items that had simply vanished. Just like in the clothing stores. Some things stayed, some didn’t, and I still had no clue how the System decided what was allowed to exist.

  No golf gloves anywhere.

  Nothing in the store stood out as useful, so I headed back out.

  I wandered down the empty streets at an easy pace, almost like a tourist with nowhere particular to be. A hardware store caught my eye. I had zero interest in tools, but I did remember that places like this sold safety gloves.

  Inside, it was much the same as the sporting goods store — shelves of familiar shapes mixed with things I couldn't name. I recognized a drill. And… that was about it. Everything else looked like it was meant for someone who actually knew what they were doing.

  I found gloves and a variety of them.

  Heavy leather work gloves were out immediately — durable, sure, but completely impractical for anything requiring finesse. Rubber gloves came next, but they were rigid and bulky, better suited for chemicals than… living.

  Eventually, I found something usable.

  They weren’t stylish — nothing like golf or racing gloves — but they fit well, offered decent grip, and didn’t feel like they’d get in the way. Functional was good enough for me.

  It was reasonable but I expected that if I used basic or advanced shards, I would have used a lot more.

  “Yes.”

  I slipped them on immediately and started picking things up. To my absolute delight, no debuffs appeared.

  Success.

  Being able to actually handle things felt absurdly good, so I wandered around the store, picking up tools I had no idea how to use or what they were even called. Just… touching things. Feeling normal.

  Grinning to myself, I finally left the store, continuing my very much deserved sick day.

  A Level 6 Kobold appeared ahead of me, and with a long, weary sigh, I dealt with it. No drama, no flair — just another fight.

  The rewards followed: a Rare Knowledge Shard, and my food and water packages.

  Then I moved on.

  The slow walk continued, eyes drifting from storefront to storefront, noticing places I never would have glanced at — or stepped into — before the System had turned my wold upside down.

  A Dollar store!

  Whole sections were empty. Anything plastic-heavy was missing. Buckets, laundry baskets, trash cans, storage bins… gone. Brooms stood alone with nothing beside them; mop handles leaned uselessly against bare shelves.

  Cleaning supplies hadn’t survived either. No neon bottles, no spray triggers, no detergent. Sponges, scrub brushes, rubber gloves — all removed.

  The food aisle was stripped clean as well. Canned goods, noodles, plastic-wrapped snacks, bottled drinks — nothing left

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  Paper, on the other hand, stayed.

  Cheap notebooks were stacked unevenly. Pens and markers filled wire bins. Stationery remained, untouched.

  Hardware-adjacent items were still present, but only selectively. Extension cords made of fabric-wrapped cable hung neatly. Light bulbs sat boxed in cardboard. Rolls of duct tape remained, as did batteries sealed behind thick paper backing. Anything with a plastic casing or shell was gone.

  Paper banners drooped from their hooks. Ribbons and cardboard cutouts sat untouched. Displays meant for parties and celebrations lingered in quiet suspension — decorations for moments that would never come. Anything that had once been shiny, moulded, or synthetic had been removed entirely.

  None of this surprised me anymore.

  And walking through the quiet store, all I could do was take note of what had made the cut… and what hadn’t.

  I left without taking anything.

  Interesting… but ultimately a waste of time.

  Onward to more entertaining things.

  It was still early, so I kept up my aimless “shopping.” A laundromat passed by — nope. A beauty store — definitely nope. Restaurants lined the street, one after another, all equally pointless. The System had stripped away food and food-related appliances. No reason to even look.

  I slowed in front of a pet store.

  My thoughts immediately went to Claire and her cat. I hoped — really hoped — she’d be reunited with him soon. There was no reason to go inside, though, so I moved on.

  More wandering.

  A furniture store caught my attention next. Nice pieces. Solid wood. Leather chairs that would’ve made my old self weak at the knees. Once, I would have loved a proper desk or a comfortable chair.

  Now? I couldn’t see the point.

  Even if I sanctioned it, what then? I wasn’t hauling furniture back to my apartment.

  Eventually, my steps carried me toward the barrier — toward our usual meeting spot. A few stores tugged at my curiosity along the way, but not enough to pull me inside.

  At the spot, I sat down and pulled out my journal and pen.

  …

  …

  “Now what do I do?”

  I’d never kept a diary. Never written a journal entry in my life. I stared down at the empty page, its clean whiteness feeling oddly intimidating.

  The pen hovered.

  And for the first time all day…

  I had no idea what came next.

  A buzz from my Comm Crystal pulled me out of my thoughts. Claire had arrived early too.

  “Hi, Claire. How did the quest go?”

  She grinned from ear to ear — then her eyes dropped to the book in my hands.

  “What’s that?”

  For some reason, I felt oddly embarrassed. We were in the middle of the apocalypse, after all.

  “That’s… actually really neat,” she said, brightening immediately. “I want one too. I’ve journaled before, and I could just sanction my existing ones. That’d probably work even better. Though I still want a new one.”

  I just looked at her, quietly waiting for her to run out of breath.

  She noticed my expression, stopped short, and glanced down, suddenly self-conscious.

  “Sorry. I tend to ramble…”

  I shook my head and smiled gently. “It’s fine. Honestly, I just felt like getting them. Now I’m stuck staring at blank pages with no idea what to write.”

  She nodded, understanding instantly. “Yeah, that part’s hard at first. I started by just describing my day. Eventually, it turned into writing about how I felt about what happened.”

  I tilted my head, considering it. “That actually makes sense. I’ll try that. But first — tell me about your quest.”

  She launched into it, and I found myself smiling as I listened.

  For a little while, everything else faded away, and just hearing her talk made the day feel lighter.

  “Did you get the next part of your quest?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. “It’s a dungeon-type quest. Same principles as the simulation — we can die, but it’s not permanent. Every death resets the run.” She paused, thinking it over. “I’ve noticed a pattern, though. The themes of our quests line up, even if the details don’t. So I’m guessing yours will be some kind of dungeon too.”

  “I think so as well,” I said. “When are you planning to do it? Tomorrow?”

  “Probably. And the day after that, I’ll start using the simulator to learn how to fight a Level 7 Kobold. They look… dangerous.”

  Her expression darkened. “Staying ahead of the Kobolds isn’t easy. It feels like they’re always one step ahead of us.”

  “Then we stay one step ahead of them,” I replied. “We just keep getting stronger.”

  She went quiet for a moment, considering that. Then she nodded, as if coming to terms with the thought, before shifting gears.

  “By the way… did you get any more Rare Knowledge shards?”

  I nodded — and must have looked conflicted, because she spoke again right away.

  “If you want to use them on your own, I’d completely understand.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s not that. I actually like having you here. The moral support makes it easier to handle. I just…” I exhaled slowly. “I feel guilty. I’m finding out about my family, and you’re still waiting. It feels unfair.”

  The admission settled between us, heavy but honest.

  “Danny,” she said softly, “I wouldn’t want to be alone when I ask the difficult questions. And I don’t think you would either. I’ll be patient until I get a Rare Knowledge Shard — but when that time comes, I want you there.”

  My throat tightened. Shame crept in fast and unwelcome. Claire was a genuinely good person, and I’d let my guilt twist into something ugly.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “I was being an ass.”

  She shook her head lightly. “Don’t be silly.”

  Then she smiled — small, encouraging. “Now ask the question. Who are you going to ask about?”

  “I’ve thought about it,” I said. “I want to know about my mom and dad.”

  “I wish to enquire the status of my mother and father, Elaine and Mark Harper.”

  Relief washed over me in a way I hadn’t expected. When I first heard how many people had died, I’d known the odds weren’t in my favor — that losing at least some of my family was a very real possibility.

  With each name, the tension eased just a little more. Still, I knew not every message would end this way. Sooner or later, the System would deliver bad news. That certainty lingered, even in the relief.

  When I looked up, Claire was watching me closely. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. She understood exactly what I was feeling — and she knew that, soon enough, she’d be facing the same moment herself.

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