So many over salted, oily, sugar riddled, ill-advised food choices waiting for me. I will have them all.

But there was one problem.

The machines required coins.

I patted my pockets, searching for any loose change. But I obviously found nothing. I hadn’t carried any cash on me that day. Or any other day for that matter. I paid for my lunch with my university ID card, as always. And everything else was done by wireless transfer.

A wave of disappointment washed over me. I had come so far, only to be stopped by something as trivial as a lack of coins.

Then I remembered something and frowned.

I reached for my belt and pulled out the fire axe. The metal was still cold and heavy in my hand.

I looked at the vending machine, then back at the axe. It wasn’t exactly the ideal tool for the job, but it was the only one I had.

I took a deep breath and raised the axe. Hopefully I could afford to make a little noise.

The axe was raised, poised to strike the vending machine’s glass front. But something stopped me. A flicker of logic. Hitting the machine would be loud. Very loud. And while I hadn’t seen any of those creatures inside the library, I couldn’t be sure they weren’t nearby. Or that something else wasn’t lurking in the shadows.

Besides, I wasn’t that desperate. Not yet.

I lowered the axe, the metal clanging softly against the floor. There had to be a better way.

My eyes scanned the machine, searching for a weakness. The door, of course. It was secured by a simple hinge and a latch. If I could just…

I placed my hands on the machine’s cold metal surface, testing its weight. It was heavy, but not impossibly so. And it did have wheels. I could probably move it, if I took my time.

A new plan began to form in my mind. Instead of smashing the machine open, I would try to move it closer to the crawlspace entrance. That way, if things went south, I could quickly retreat back.

I wrapped my hands around the machine’s base, bracing my legs against the floor. I pushed, slowly and steadily, putting all my weight into it. The machine groaned and scraped against the floor, the wheels appeared to be just decoration as far as rolling was concerned, but it moved.

The process was slow and arduous. The machine was heavier than I had anticipated, and the linoleum floor offered little traction. I had to stop every few seconds to catch my breath, my muscles burning with exertion.

I glanced around nervously, listening for any sounds. The library remained eerily silent. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. Paranoia is good. It keeps you alive.

After what felt like hours, but was probably just five minutes, I managed to drag the vending machine to the edge of the crawlspace entrance. It was a tight fit, but it was close enough. Now, if I needed to escape, all I had to do was jump down.

That was better. Much better.

I turned my attention to the machine’s door. I examined the hinges, looking for a way to pry them open. They were simple metal hinges, secured by small screws. With enough force, I could probably break them.

I placed the axe head against the hinge, using it as a lever. I applied pressure slowly, carefully, trying to avoid making too much noise. The metal groaned and creaked, but it didn’t budge.

I tried a different angle, applying more force. The hinge finally gave way with a soft snap. I repeated the process with the other hinge, and the door swung open.

Success.

A wave of relief washed over me, so intensely that I almost stumbled. The combination of thirst and hunger was making me lightheaded. I had to be careful. I couldn’t afford to make stupid mistakes.

I peered inside the vending machine. Rows of snacks and drinks were neatly arranged... Chips, candy bars, sodas, bottled water… all I needed.

I briefly wondered if something like merging worlds would have any effect on food. But I didn’t bother looking at the expiration dates. Most of them had no clear expiration date at all, despite what their packages said. These items didn’t even need refrigeration. Although an ice-cold soda would be very welcome, it just wasn’t meant to be. I was probably over two months too late.

The gods only knew when the electricity had gone out. But these items… These items were probably still good. And would remain as such for a very long time, most likely.

I reached inside the machine and grabbed a bottle of water. I uncapped it and took a long, slow drink, savoring the cool liquid as it slid down my parched throat. It most definitely wasn’t the best thing I had ever tasted. But it was very nice. I would prefer soda, but I need water right now.

I then grabbed a bag of chips and tore it open, devouring the contents in a matter of seconds. The salt and grease were a welcome sensation after over a whole day of nothing. Then a candy for dessert.

I needed to be smart about this. I couldn’t afford to gorge myself. I needed to ration these supplies, to make them last as long as possible.

I took off my shirt, wincing as the rough fabric scraped against my blistered hands. I tied the sleeves together, creating a makeshift bag. Then, I began to fill it with the non-perishable items from the vending machine.

I made several trips back and forth between the vending machine and the wooden entrance to the sewers, carefully transporting my loot to the other side of the roots. It was a slow and tiring process, but I was determined to do it right.

After what felt like another eternity, I had moved most of the valuable loot to the relative safety of the sewer network. I had water and food for days, maybe even weeks if I rationed carefully.

Now, I could afford to make more elaborate plans. Now, I had the resources I needed to survive. And maybe, just maybe, to find a way to get out of this mess safely. And to come back for Mark, since he asked so nicely. I am sure I will have nightmares about that at some point.

My sewer penthouse, as I’d started to think of it, wasn’t much. A cold triangular space where two narrow concrete tunnels converged. But it was still the safest. And more importantly, it was home to a veritable treasure trove.

My loot.

The pile of snacks and drinks I’d salvaged from the vending machine looked almost comical against the backdrop of the grimy sewer walls. Granola bars, chocolate bars, bags of chips in various flavors, mostly barbecue. Food I wouldn’t have given a second glance to in my previous life was now a precious resource.

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I sorted through the haul, taking stock. I had several bottles of water, thankfully. Hydration was my primary concern. I also had a decent supply of sugary sodas, which, while not ideal, would provide a quick burst of energy. So tasty. And the chips… Well, they were mostly air and artificial flavoring, but they were calories nonetheless. I will think of them as meat and vegetables in their combined processed form. It would do. It will have to.

What I really craved, though, was a steaming bowl of instant noodles. A hot, savory meal that ruled over non perishable food, it would have been a godsend. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

I leaned back against the cool concrete, my stomach finally starting to quiet down. Now that I had secured food and water, it was time for planning.

My immediate goal was Mark. I had to get him out of that crystal coffin. The System had said it took five shards to release someone. But I also know for a fact that those creatures already found their way there. I was there when they did. So was Mark, in a sense.

Then there’s the problem of Mark being wounded. I know these crystal shells are supposed to heal you up and all that, but I don’t know how fast that is. How long does Mark need? A day? A week? A month? It matters. A lot.

Then, if I managed to reach Mark, with five shards to set him free, and he is fine to run down here with me and we both made it down here safely, we would still need another twenty shards to get us out of this place. If we can get to the border from here.

So, as it turns out, Mark will have to wait. I will have to go the other way around. Find out how to get to the border from here. In the meantime, I keep on exploring, mapping and on the lookout for some shards or dungeon entrances. They should be easy to spot, right? Well, that’s about it.

But I wouldn’t complain about getting fifty more shards along the way. That could allow me to access the system’s enhancement function, to get one of those “gifts” it had mentioned. But I will probably just ask a lot of questions about it. Way before deciding about this “gift”, if I can.

I wouldn’t mind being able to blast those crocs with some kind of energy beam, or maybe become incredibly strong, able to crush them with my bare hands. I wouldn’t mind at all.

But I doubted I could become that powerful with just fifty shards. If I am right about the system being truly as transactional and uncaring as it seemed, then the first “gift” would be just a taste. A small sample, designed to get you hooked.

Then, it would raise the price tenfold, maybe even a hundredfold, and tell you something like Now, this, this is the real stuff. And you would pay. Because you wanted to survive. Because you wanted to become stronger.

At least, I knew I would. I will.

I will have to find an outrageous set of synergetic superpowers. And no, this isn’t some hidden desire for power or anything like that. It’s much, much simpler.

I couldn’t possibly afford to come across someone who had already acquired three or four “gifts” and have them take everything I got. Survivors can’t be trusted. They were still people, after all. And if my experience had taught me anything, it was that people were inherently unpredictable, driven by self-interest and prone to irrational behavior.

I doubted that this had changed with the merging of worlds. It had most likely only gotten worse.

I closed my eyes, visualizing the sewers, the route I would take, the potential dangers. I needed a strategy, a plan to find more spirit shards to rescue Mark and eventually escape this place.

The small maintenance tunnel I saw the day before barely qualified as a proper route, I didn’t even explore it, but it will have to do for now. I reached a dead end in the big chamber and another here, in the library. Only one path left on this side.

I opened my eyes, my gaze falling on the makeshift map I had scratched on the wall. It was a crude representation of the tunnels, but it was enough to orient myself.

I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve. I had no spirit shards, no special abilities, no allies. But I had my wits. And that, I hoped, would be enough. That and a bunch of dubious non-perishable food.

I stood up, stretching my stiff muscles. It was time to move.

My plan was simple, in theory. Those oversized lizards couldn’t climb. So, I would make them fall into a hole. A big enough hole.

And then… then I’d let nature take its course. Either they’d kill each other in their panicked scramble to escape, or they’d simply… expire. Either way, it could eventually solve my croc problem. One croc at a time if I must. And they would certainly drop some shards.

But I couldn’t get ahead of myself. Scouting the sewers came first. What if I spent days trapping crocs just to turn around a tunnel one day and stumbled on thirty shards on the ground plus the border a few steps away? Wouldn’t I feel like an idiot because I wasted days hunting crocs when I could get Mark out earlier and left already? No, not really. I do want to hunt some crocs.

I took a deep breath and calmed myself. Three days. I will scout for three days then I will hunt for three days, then I will take one day off. Fair enough? Yes. I couldn’t agree more.

It was time to scout the sewers.

The thought wasn’t exactly appealing. But staying put wasn’t an option. I needed to move, to explore, to find a solution. And answers.

Besides, scouting had other benefits. I might discover other paths to the surface, alternative exits from these underground tunnels. I could also start mapping the locations of the crystalized people, doing a rough head count from place to place, that sort of thing.

And who knew? I might even stumble upon a real dungeon, a place teeming with monsters and, more importantly, spirit shards. Preferably filled with things like slimes, which are usually cannon fodder and that I should be able to take out with one or two proper kicks.

The scouting mission was on. And yes, I was trying to get myself hyped about it.

I took a final look at my makeshift map, memorizing the route I had taken the previous day. Then, I set off, moving deeper into the sewer network.

The tunnels were once again oppressive, dim, filled with thick air with the smell of stagnant water, and the silence was broken only by the drip, drip, drip of condensation. I didn’t miss it at all.

I moved slowly, cautiously, tapping the axe against the walls and the floor.

I checked every junction, every side tunnel, searching for the completion of my map. Most of them led to more tunnels, extending deeper into the sewer system. Some were blocked by debris, piles of rubble and discarded materials that had been swept into the sewers during the merging. I mark them down and turn back, if nothing of interest is found I would return. Hopefully not.

Occasionally, I would come across a larger chamber, like the one I found near my current base. But none of them were as interesting as the first one, which had the right combination of features: a large open space with small, inaccessible apertures and a big ass grate on top.

As I explored, I started to notice patterns. Some sections of the sewers were newer, with smooth concrete walls and well-maintained pipes. Others were older, with crumbling brickwork and rusted metal grates. A testament of amends or repairs made over the course of decades.

I also started to find more grates leading to the surface. Some were small and covered in debris, while others were larger and more accessible. I made a mental note of their locations, adding them to my mental map.

I didn’t see or hear any more of the crocs, which was a relief. But I did find other signs of life. Small insects scuttled across the walls, and I heard the faint rustling in the distance.

At one point, I came across a small pile of bones, bleached white and scattered across the floor. They were too small to be human, probably rats or other small animals. But the sight still sent a shiver down my spine. There might be other things down here.

As I continued my exploration, I noticed something else. Tiny shards embedded into a concrete wall. They were much smaller than the shards I had received from Mark, barely larger than grains of rice. But they shimmered with the same faint blue light.

I tried to pry one of them out with the axe, but they were firmly embedded in the concrete. And to make it even more vexing, this concrete wall seems to be exceedingly sturdy compared to all others I came across. Quite suspicious, isn’t it? Either way, I would need a different tool.

I turned back to update my map and slept it off. Found a bunch of dead ends, two possibly new routes to the other side of the sewers and also a glaring point of interest.

The discovery was encouraging, despite my bad mood. It confirmed what the System had said: spirit shards could be found. No real danger involved. I just needed to find a way to extract them. Although I am not quite sure that’s possible when you take the unbreakable concrete wall into consideration.

The shards protect the wall, while the wall protects the shards. How poetic and well thought, system, I praise you. Now can you please give me a fucking slack?