23.Future Foundations

Leah's boots tapped against the polished concrete floor of Zenith Supply Hub, a sprawling warehouse dedicated to wholesale leisure and luxury goods. Unlike the sterile chill of medical or uniform depots, this place felt alive—the air thrumming with music, holographic displays showcasing everything from entertainment consoles to handcrafted furniture.

Ross, ever her silent shadow, walked at her side, his sharp blue eyes sweeping the aisles with that ever-present bodyguard's awareness.

Leah's gaze flicked to the massive digital board overhead:

Entertainment Systems & VR Suites

Recreational Games & Simulators

Holiday & Seasonal Decor

Luxury Goods & Comfort Packs

Ross's voice, smooth and dry, broke through the hum of automated loaders: "Didn't peg you for a holiday spirit type."

Leah's lips curled slightly, her eyes cold but carrying something warm beneath the steel: "Motivation matters. People are about to spend years in a steel can. Give them something worth looking forward to."

Ross's brow lifted slightly, and something wry flickered in his voice: "Sentimental."

Her eyes snapped to him, sharp. "Practical. People fight harder for a life than a sentence."

She stopped in front of an interface and, without hesitation, began placing her orders.

"Entertainment Systems: 100 VR suites with modular game packs—multiplayer included. Arcade consoles—full retro collection. Simulators—flight, racing, and combat." She glanced at Ross. "You play?"

His lips tugged into a dry smirk: "Only if I'm winning."

Her eyes sparked. "I'll make sure there's a leaderboard."

She didn't slow. "Board games, card sets, and puzzles—10,000 units. Chess, poker, and strategy sets. Portable gaming consoles—standard issue for private quarters."

Next—Holiday & Seasonal: "Every major holiday. Full decorative kits—lights, trees, lanterns. 15 years' worth. If it's celebrated somewhere, we're bringing it."

Ross's voice, low and sardonic: "So... we're packing Christmas and Lunar New Year into deep space?"

Her tone, cold and certain: "Yes. And birthdays. Anniversaries. Everything." She keyed in an order for gift wrap, blank cards, and small keepsake boxes. "People need reasons to mark time."

Finally—Luxury Goods: "Private comforts—blankets, bathrobes, coffee machines. 5,000 bottles of high-end spirits. Gourmet packs—chocolates, teas, and rare spices."

Ross's voice, smooth and amused, carried a flicker of genuine respect: "You're not just building a ship, are you? You're building a home."

Leah's eyes, dark and burning, didn't leave the screen: "We're not survivors." Her voice dropped, low and edged with iron: "We're people."

A final tap. Order Confirmed.

Ross's lips curled: "Remind me to stick close when you unpack. I'll fight someone for the good bourbon."

Her reply, dry and sharp: "You'll lose. It's mine."

Leah's final stop brought her to BrightPath Educational Supply, a wholesale depot packed with shelves of learning materials, digital textbooks, and creative tools. The air carried the faint scent of paper—rare and expensive in a world so deeply digital—and the soft hum of holo-screens displaying interactive learning modules.

Ross followed at her side, his sharp blue eyes sweeping the space with his usual mix of alertness and quiet assessment. He hadn't commented during her previous stops, but as she paused before the towering display marked "Future Foundations", he finally spoke, his voice smooth and edged with curiosity:

"School supplies?"

Leah's fingers moved swiftly over the order console, her voice calm but resolute:

"For 100 children. Ages 2 to 18."

She keyed in the essentials without hesitation: Digital slates, stylus packs, language modules, and interactive learning pods.

Her tone remained crisp and purposeful as she added more: Science kits, art supplies, musical instruments—because survival isn't just about living. It's about growing."

Ross's voice, low and wry: "Didn't know you were opening a classroom on the Ark."

Her reply, quick and sharp: "I'm opening a future." She keyed in another section: Physical books—fiction, history, science. 500 titles. A library, small but real.

Ross's brow lifted. "Paper books? Luxury item."

Her lips pressed briefly before she answered, her voice edged with something deeper:

"They should know what it's like to hold a story."

The final tap—Educational games and sports equipment—100 sets. Chess to football. Let them play and compete."

The order sealed with a soft chime.

Ross watched her for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You've thought about this. About them."

Leah's voice, low but unshakable: "They didn't choose this. But if they grow up only surviving, they'll never learn how to live."

The order was paided.

Supplies allocated. Routes confirmed. Everything locked into place with ruthless precision.

Leah barely registered it anymore.

Her mind was already ahead—on the next stop.

On her family.

The car hummed beneath them, cutting through the steel veins of the city, smooth and fast. Ross drove with calm efficiency, one hand on the wheel, the other flicking through the route data on the dash display.

Then—

"Take the next left."

Ross didn't blink, but he noticed.

Because that wasn't their route.

His blue eyes flicked to her, sharp. "That doesn't lead to the docks."

Leah's gaze stayed on the skyline ahead, voice steady, certain.

"I know."

Ross didn't question it.

Just adjusted, hands moving with practiced ease as he rerouted the car.

Then, after a beat—

"Where are we going?"

Leah exhaled slowly, fingers tapping once against the door frame.

"The East Quarter."

Ross's eyes narrowed slightly.

That was the wrong side of town.

The side that had been written off, forgotten, left to rot under the weight of failing systems and bad deals.

The side where no one cared who lived or died.

"Leah—"

"I'm visiting my grandmother."

Ross didn't move.

Didn't speak for a moment.

Just processed.

Then—his hands tightened slightly around the wheel.

"She still lives out there?"

Leah's jaw ticked, but her voice stayed even.

"It's home."

A beat.

Then Ross simply nodded, adjusting their route.

"Then we're going."

No hesitation.

No protest.

Just absolute certainty.

Leah finally turned to look at him, her gaze steady, unreadable.

"You don't have to come in."

Ross's lips curled slightly, his voice smooth, unshaken.

"And you don't have to ask."

Leah huffed softly, something between annoyance and amusement.

Ross just kept on driving.