STOCKING UP

The next few weeks were a blur of preparation. Felix’s apartment, once a minimalist haven, now resembled a survivalist’s bunker. Boxes of non-perishable food, medical supplies, and camping gear were stacked in every corner. He’d even cleared out a closet to store water purifiers, solar chargers, and a portable generator. The asteroid, the pyramids, and the alien technology had shifted his perspective. The world might not function the same way in a year, and Felix wasn’t taking any chances.

"You’re really going all-in, huh?" Caroline asked as Felix loaded another box of supplies into his car. Her voice was light, but there was an edge to it—a reminder that she was always analyzing, always calculating.

"Better safe than sorry," Felix replied, slamming the trunk shut. "If the pyramids are real, who knows what else could happen? Power grids could fail, supply chains could collapse. I’m not waiting around to find out."

Caroline hummed in agreement. "Fair point. But don’t forget the snacks. Apocalypse or not, nobody wants to live without chips."

Felix smirked, leaning against the car. "Snacks are already covered. I’ve got enough jerky and trail mix to last me a year. And before you ask, yes, I got the good kind—none of that cheap, cardboard-flavored stuff."

"Priorities," Caroline said dryly. "But seriously, Felix, you’re not just stocking up for yourself, are you?"

He hesitated, glancing at the boxes in the backseat. "No. I’ve got extra for my dad and his buddies. They’re not as... prepared as I am."

"Smart move," Caroline said. "But don’t forget, you’re not the only one thinking ahead. There’s a reason half the stores in the city are sold out of canned goods and batteries."

Felix frowned. "You think other players are doing the same thing?"

"Absolutely," Caroline replied. "The ones who are taking this seriously, anyway. The rest are probably too busy arguing on forums about which class is OP."

Felix shook his head, climbing into the driver’s seat. "Let’s hope they figure it out before it’s too late."

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STREAMING AND CHATTING

Felix sat in his gaming chair, adjusting his headset as he prepared for another stream. His contract required him to stream two to three days a week, and tonight he was diving into StrikePoint, a competitive first-person shooter that had taken the gaming world by storm. The game was a far cry from Sol Online, but it was a welcome distraction—and a chance to show off his newfound reflexes.

"Alright, everyone," Felix said, his voice cheerful as the stream went live. "Welcome back to the channel. Let’s see how bad I can embarrass myself tonight."

The chat exploded with comments:

"Finally, he’s streaming again!" "Where’s Caroline? We demand Caroline!" "Bet he’s still thinking about Sol Online."

Caroline’s voice piped through the stream, her tone playful. "Don’t worry, I’m here to keep him in check."

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Yeah, yeah," Felix said, laughing. "She’s been running my life lately, so you can thank her for any wins tonight."

As the game progressed, Felix’s skill was on full display. His precision and reflexes, honed by his increased stats, made him a force to be reckoned with. He moved through the map like a ghost, landing headshots with uncanny accuracy. The chat reacted with enthusiasm:

"Is he even human anymore?" "This is why we watch Felix!" "Bro’s cracked. Someone check his PC for hacks."

"Not bad, Lix," Caroline said during a break between matches. "Though I still think you could’ve handled that last round faster."

"Remind me why I let you talk on my stream?" Felix replied, grinning.

"Because I’m the reason you’re not a complete disaster," Caroline shot back, earning a wave of laughing emojis from the chat.

As the stream continued, Felix noticed a shift in the comments. The usual banter was still there, but now there were questions about Sol Online—about the pyramids, the asteroid, and the rumors of real-world effects.

"Felix, are the stats in Sol Online really affecting people IRL?" "What’s the deal with the pyramids? Are they real?" "Is the government hiding something?"

Felix hesitated, glancing at the camera. "Look, I can’t say too much, but... yeah, the game’s more than it seems. If you’re playing, take it seriously. And if you’re not, maybe it’s time to start."

The chat exploded again, but Felix didn’t elaborate. He couldn’t. Not yet.

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A SWORDSMITH’S CRAFT

Felix wiped his palms on his jeans as he stepped into the workshop. The smell of hot metal and the rhythmic clang of a hammer greeted him. The swordsmith, a grizzled man in his sixties with arms like tree trunks, looked up from his forge.

"You must be Felix," the man said, his voice rough but warm. "I hear you’re looking for a katana."

"A real one," Felix said, glancing at the swords displayed on the walls. Each blade gleamed under the workshop’s lights, a testament to the smith’s craftsmanship. "Something that’s not just for show."

The smith nodded, setting down his tools. "Not many people ask for a proper blade these days. Most just want something to hang on their wall."

"Not me," Felix said firmly. "I want something that’ll hold up if it ever needs to."

The smith grinned, his eyes lighting up. "You’ve come to the right place."

Over the next week, Felix returned to the workshop to watch the blade take shape. The smith, whose name was Hiroshi, worked with meticulous precision, explaining the process as he went. He showed Felix how the steel was folded and reforged, layer by layer, to create a blade that was both strong and flexible.

"This is where the magic happens," Hiroshi said, holding up the glowing blade. "Every fold, every strike—it’s all about balance. Too hard, and the blade will shatter. Too soft, and it won’t hold an edge."

Felix watched in awe as Hiroshi worked, his hands moving with the confidence of decades of experience. Finally, the katana was complete. Its black handle was wrapped in silk, and the blade shimmered with a subtle wave pattern.

"Beautiful," Felix said, running a hand along the hilt.

"Functional, too," Hiroshi said, handing him the sword. "Take care of it, and it’ll take care of you."

Felix nodded, feeling the weight of the blade in his hands. It was more than a weapon—it was a reminder of what he was preparing for. Whatever was coming, he’d be ready.