The blue panel hovered in front of Iris like a quiet star suspended in the air.
[Designation: CORE003]
[You may call me 003.]
The words lingered quietly.
Iris stared at them, her fingers tightening around the stair railing.
"…You said I'm not supposed to exist."
The symbols pulsed once.
[Correct.]
A chill slid down her spine.
"What does that mean?"
For a moment the system said nothing.
Then the response appeared.
[Your existence diverges from recorded planetary history.]
[Timeline irregularity confirmed.]
Her stomach tightened.
"So I changed something."
[Affirmative.]
The answer came instantly.
Iris's mind flashed back to the courtyard.
Caleb slipping.
The moment he should have fallen.
The moment she grabbed him.
In the novel he had died there.
Here he was still alive.
"You're here because of that?"
[Partially.]
[Anomaly cores activate when deviations exceed threshold probability.]
Her brow furrowed.
"So you were… monitoring me?"
[Observation.]
[Analysis.]
[Guidance.]
Three words appeared one after the other.
The blue panel shifted slightly.
[Primary survivor interface: Core001.]
[Auxiliary anomaly interface: Core003.]
Her eyes narrowed.
"Everyone else only has the first one."
[Correct.]
Another message appeared.
[Anomaly variable detected.]
[Privilege granted.]
The panel brightened slightly.
[Inventory capacity adjustment complete.]
[Storage Space: 50 cubic meters.]
Iris blinked.
"Fifty…?"
Her family only had one cubic meter.
Fifty cubic meters meant she could carry an entire room's worth of supplies.
Her thoughts immediately started racing.
Medical equipments, Water, Food, Tools, Books, Seeds, Weapons, Knowledge.
The possibilities multiplied rapidly in her mind.
If relocation truly happened in less than a day… this space could decide whether they survived or died.
Footsteps thundered above her.
"Iris!"
She looked up.
Caleb leaned over the railing, slightly breathless.
"Dad's calling everyone," he said. "We're going to the weapon room."
The blue interface dimmed.
[Conversation paused.]
[Awaiting further inquiry.]
The panel faded back to the edge of her vision.
Iris exhaled slowly.
Then she turned and climbed the stairs.
But halfway up, she stopped.
Fifty cubic meters.
Her gaze drifted toward the basement vault.
A decision formed instantly.
She turned around.
⸻
{The Basement}
The underground vault was already open when Iris returned.
Velvet trays of jewelry sat scattered across the metal tables where the family had been testing the system earlier.
Most of the high-value items had already been converted into system currency.
But a large portion of the supplies they had gathered still remained.
Boxes, Medical kits, Preserved food, Bottled water, vast collections of seeds, Camping equipment, Electronics.
Not everything had been converted earlier. Several boxes of emergency supplies still remained stacked near the walls.
Her gaze swept across the room slowly.
This time when she focused on the storage interface, the space felt different.
Vast.
Not the tiny cube she had seen earlier.
A faint outline appeared in her mind like an invisible warehouse waiting to be filled.
Iris moved quickly.
She started with the essentials.
First aid kits disappeared one after another into the storage space.
Then sealed water containers, Emergency rations, Portable cooking equipment, Blankets, Flashlights, Batteries.
The supplies vanished from the tables in steady waves.
She worked fast but carefully, prioritizing items that would matter most if civilization collapsed completely.
Tools followed.
A compact toolbox.
Rope.
Portable generators.
Fuel canisters.
Even the tablets Caleb and Benjamin had insisted on keeping were safely stored inside.
The space absorbed everything effortlessly.
And still felt mostly empty.
A quiet breath escaped her lips.
Good.
Very good.
Only when the essential supplies were secured did she finally head upstairs.
⸻
Henry Hale's private weapon collection sat behind reinforced glass doors at the end of the study hall.
Marcus Reed stood beside the entrance.
The team leader gave a respectful nod as Iris approached and opened the door for her.
Inside, polished wooden racks lined the walls.
Rows of historical weapons gleamed beneath warm lighting.
Swords.
Axes.
Spears.
War hammers.
Blades from different centuries rested inside glass displays.
Henry stood near the center of the room with a rifle slung over his shoulder.
A pistol rested securely at his hip.
"This collection isn't decoration anymore," he said calmly.
"Take what you can actually use."
The bodyguards moved to the sides of the room, checking exits and windows.
They didn't interrupt the family.
Iris walked toward one of the weapon racks.
Her hand passed over several blades before stopping.
A dark dagger rested against black velvet.
Obsidian.
The edge gleamed like polished glass.
She lifted it slowly.
The weapon felt light but dangerously sharp.
A sheath hung beside the display.
Iris secured the dagger to her belt.
Next she reached for a longsword mounted nearby.
The weapon was balanced surprisingly well despite its length.
A leather scabbard hung beside it.
She strapped the blade across her back.
Benjamin watched her with mild curiosity.
"I thought you preferred a bow," he said.
Iris's shoulders stiffened slightly.
That had been the original Iris.
Not her.
"I might grab one later," she replied calmly.
Benjamin accepted the answer with a small shrug.
A moment later the sword and dagger disappeared into her inventory.
He blinked.
"…That's convenient."
Around the room the others chose their weapons.
Benjamin picked a short spear and dagger.
Victoria selected a slender rapier.
Caleb hesitated before grabbing a light sword and hatchet.
Henry checked his shotgun carefully.
The bodyguards mostly relied on firearms but still collected backup weapons.
Marcus Reed chose a combat knife.
Elena Petrova selected a heavy axe.
Everyone was finishing up when the world suddenly roared.