Doomsday Supermarket

Chapter 16 - The First Unlock

Chapter 16 · 1,078 words

They came up the road from the east, visible first as shapes against the cracked pavement at the edge of the new perimeter. Wren counted them before they reached the entrance—four figures, but the spacing was wrong. Jax led, his stride shorter than usual. Elowen followed, crossbow still raised until they crossed the threshold. Malik carried the pack. And Rook—

Rook was limping.

The improvised bandage around his left thigh had soaked through to a dark, uneven stain. Each step landed hard on his right foot and dragged on the left, his weight listing against Elowen's shoulder when she moved close enough to catch him. They crossed the lighting boundary one by one, and the Store's automatic doors opened to let them in.

Wren came around the counter. "Rook."

"Hold up." Jax's voice was flat, the kind of flat that meant he'd been holding something in for hours. He dropped his pack on the floor between them and peeled off gloves that had dust ground into the fabric. His face looked like it had been rubbed with sandpaper. "He's walking. That's what matters."

"Let me see."

Malik set the pack down and opened it with the careful hands of someone carrying something fragile. Inside, nested in torn jacket lining, a sealed rigid container. The lid was taped shut with three layers. Wren picked it up and held it to the overhead light.

The tissue inside was pink. Uniform pink, firm against the container walls, no discoloration at the edges. He turned it slowly. No grey patches. No soft spots. The texture matched what he'd written in the quality guide—harvested within the window, kept sealed, kept cold enough.

It passed.

"He took a hit," Jax said. He was watching Wren check the container, but his words were about Rook. "Regenerator started knitting before we got the kill clean. Rook was too close when it spasmed." He paused. "The tissue came from the same creature. We harvested fast. Sealed it before the air got to it."

Wren looked at Rook. The younger man was leaning against the counter now, his face pale under a layer of grime. He gave a small nod, the kind that meant *I'm fine* and *don't talk about it* at the same time.

"You should have left it," Wren said. "The tissue. If he was hurt—"

"We got both." Jax's tone didn't change. "He's walking. The tissue's clean. Don't."

Wren closed his mouth. He carried the container to the counter and set it next to the Store interface terminal. The screen flickered, reading the material. A prompt appeared:

**PREREQUISITE SATISFIED: PHARMACY DEPARTMENT** **Required: 3 healing tissue samples (quality verified) + 200 credits** **Current materials: 3/3 healing tissue ✓** **Revenue deduction: 200 credits** **Proceed with department unlock? Y/N**

Two hundred credits. He stared at the number. Defense budget, gone.

He pressed Y.

The number dropped. Wren watched the revenue ledger update, the defense allocation shrinking by the same amount. Somewhere outside, at the edge of the hundred-meter perimeter, a light fixture dimmed. Barely perceptible, but he'd been watching those lights long enough to notice when they changed.

Then the Store itself moved.

The section between aisles three and four shifted. The locked partition had been blank wall since the designation. Shelving units slid apart with a low mechanical sound, revealing a new space. Not large. Maybe four meters deep, two meters wide. The shelves were already stocked.

Small bottles. White and amber. Bandages in sealed packets. A row of glass vials filled with something pale. Labels appeared on each shelf, printed in the same clean typeface as the rest of the Store's inventory markers: *Basic Antiseptic. Coagulant Paste. Sterile Dressing. Pain Reduction Tincture. Healing Salve (Low Grade).*

Wren walked to the new section and picked up one of the bottles. It was real. The weight of it, the cool glass, the liquid inside shifting when he tilted it. The processing station in the back would produce these now—medical supplies derived from healing tissue, stocked automatically as revenue and materials allowed.

"One of five," he said.

Jax was sitting on the floor with his back against the counter, his eyes closed. Rook had lowered himself into a chair near the pharmacy section, his bandaged leg stretched out. Elowen was checking the crossbow's crank mechanism with slow, methodical movements. Malik stood near the entrance, looking out at the parking lot.

"Your guy needs real medical attention," Wren said.

Jax opened his eyes. "You selling?"

Wren looked at the pharmacy shelves. Coagulant paste. Sterile dressing. Pain reduction tincture. "Yeah. I'm selling."

"Then sell."

Wren brought three items to the counter: the coagulant paste, two packets of sterile dressing, and the pain reduction tincture. He set them in front of Jax. The interface priced them—these were Store products, processed goods, and the prices were set by the system. Jax looked at the total.

"Four credits."

"Processed goods," Wren said. "Higher value than raw materials."

Jax paid. The transaction counter moved. He carried the supplies back to Rook and started cleaning the bandage.

Wren stood at the counter and looked at the revenue ledger. Two hundred credits gone. The defense budget was now below what it had been before the lighting expansion in the first place. He'd spent a hundred and eighty on light to bring in more customers, and now two hundred on a department to unlock more inventory. The perimeter was thinner than it had been five days ago.

But the pharmacy existed. Medical supplies that would attract customers who needed healing. Customers who brought materials. Materials that funded the next unlock.

Four departments remained. The weapons counter needed acid glands and three hundred credits. Material processing needed a psychic core and four hundred. The indoor farm needed bio-luminescent spores and three hundred and fifty. Equipment crafting needed reinforced carapace plates and five hundred.

Each one would cost more than the last. Each one would pull more from defense.

He looked at the pharmacy shelves again. The labels were clean, the bottles full. It was real capability. Real progress.

Rook hissed quietly as Jax cleaned the wound. The coagulant paste went on. The sterile dressing covered it. Rook's breathing eased.

Wren picked up his scrap paper and wrote: *Pharmacy unlocked. Defense: reduced. Next: acid glands. Weapons counter.*

He set the paper down and looked at Jax. "The acid glands. The ambush predators."

Jax didn't look up from Rook's bandage. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

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