Morning came reluctantly.
The sun emerged from behind dense ash and red haze which blocked most of its light as it rose over the devastated city.
The fires that burned through the previous night continued to burn in the far distance. From his hiding spoke, Ethan woke up with his body still feeling like it was rammed over by a truck.
For a long while, he didn't move. The only sound was the occasional drip of water from a cracked ceiling pipe.
The city remained motionless outside but Ethan understood that silence did not mean safety.
The muscles in his body protested when he tried to stand up because he had spent the night sleeping on the tile floor with stiff joints.
His stomach growled; he hadn't eaten since before the world fell apart; but his mind was on something else entirely.
That glowing wheel.
He rubbed his eyes, staring into empty space where the translucent system interface had appeared before. It had saved his life multiple times now. But he realized something crucial:
Every activation so far had been reactive, not controlled.
The only time he triggered was when he was about to die.
He frowned and ran a hand through his hair. "If this thing only works when I'm two seconds away from becoming bug food, then how the hell am I supposed to get stronger without dying every day?"
His gaze drifted to the shattered remains of a broom near the counter. And slowly, an idea formed.
Ethan picked up the broom handle and tested its weight.
Not much use against acid-spitting horrors or dog-sized swarm predators. He glanced around the store for anything else: broken shelves, busted light fixtures, canned goods. He could turn some of it into a barricade or maybe a trap.
But that wasn't what he really wanted.
He needed to know if he could will the improvisation to activate without being seconds away from death.
He closed his eyes, gripping the broom like a spear, and whispered, "Come on… you've saved me twice now. Give me something. Anything".
Nothing happened.
He tightened his grip as he thought of the swarm from last night, including the massive silhouette he'd glimpsed before sleeping, and then metallic taste of fear that lingered in his mouth. That did the magic.
And then…
DING!
~----~
[No Threat Detected: Improvisation Draw Locked]
"The Survivor's Gacha thrives on desperation. Without peril, adaptation cannot manifest".
~----~
The familiar system screen lit up in front of him.
Ethan sighed, dropping the broom. "Figures. You need me bleeding out first. Great, just great".
But then, another line appeared beneath it.
~----~
[Hint: Simulated Threats may trigger controlled draws if danger is believed to be lethal.]
~----~
Ethan's brows furrowed. Believed. So… if his brain thought he was about to die, even if he wasn't going to actually die, it might work?
He looked around the store again. His eyes lit up as he spotted a rusty nail protruding from a collapsed shelf.
The thought of what he was about to do made his stomach twist, but he approached anyway. No pain, no gain. Ahem…, at least that was the intention.
He held his arm near the nail, heart thudding, imagining it stabbing deep into his flesh, imagining bleeding out with no help nearby…
The wheel spun to life.
DING!
~----~
[Improvisation Draw Activated: Low Threat Detected]
~----~
"Holy…" Ethan whispered, watching the segments blur and flicker. he pressed his palm down, and the wheel stopped on a glowing icon.
~----~
[Improvised Gear: Gripline Hook]
"A short-range grappling device assembled from scrap and cord. Allows rapid ascent or horizontal escape over 20 meters. Reusable three times before disassembly".
~----~
A hook gun with a basic design and rough appearance appeared in his hands while emitting a faint scent of oil and ozone.
Ethan's jaws dropped.
The hook gun differed from previous night's temporary weapons because it felt permanent. It felt solid, durable.
He pointed the hook at a damaged ceiling beam before pressing the trigger.
The hook launched into the air with a fwip before it penetrated the wooden structure. Ethan activated the device which pulled him upward at a speed that caused his stomach to drop.
BAM!
He grabbed the hanging light fixture to keep his balance after his awkward landing but a laugh burst from his mouth.
"This… this changes everything".
The device disappeared into digital smoke after three tests while Ethan felt an intense rush of excitement.
The ability to trigger draws without instant death became available to him yet he needed to maintain his belief about the lethal nature of threats.
But what about permanent items? Could he keep something instead of it vanishing after use?
DING!
~----~
[Query Detected: Improvisation Points (IP)]
Accumulated IP: 7
Permanent Acquisition Cost: 10 IP (Tier 1).
~----~
Ethan stared at the message.
IP, Improvisation Points must've been what he'd been earning after each survival moment. With just three more, he could keep an improvised tool forever.
The mere thought of it left him giddy.
He thought of the grappling hook, of the gauntlet, of the spear, of what he could craft with enough IP.
And then his mind wandered to something else, something that twisted his gut: were there others out there with abilities like his?
He'd seen people running, screaming, dying in the streets yesterday.
But in the chaos, he hadn't noticed anyone else manifesting strange powers. That didn't mean they didn't exist.
"If there are other survivors… and if they've got powers too…" Ethan muttered, pacing across the broken tiles, "…are they like me?"
"Are they improvisers? Or something else entirely?"
The idea brought both reassuring and frightening emotions. The presence of others brought comfort to him but the power of abilities terrified him because it attracted both monster threats and human killers who sought food or territory or intellectual property.
He peeked through the window which had been covered with boards.
The streets were quiet now, but he knew it didn't mean safety. The swarm could return. Worse things could be hunting already.
He knew he needed to leave this flooded shop before it became his permanent residence. Permanent residence as in skeletons and shit.
His fists tightened as determination flashed in his eyes. He needed to locate other people who had developed powers.
Allies or enemies, he needed to know.
And until then?
He'd keep experimenting. He'd keep improvising. He'd transform himself into a survivor who would outwit all monsters and humans.
Ethan carried the crowbar on his shoulder while he readjusted his backpack before walking into the red-lit morning fog.
The world had ended.
But for the first time in his life…
Ethan felt like he had a chance to live.