The Ticking Vault

Panic clawed at Kai's throat. The sheer magnitude of what was happening inside the system was overwhelming. It was like holding a miniature, infinitely expanding universe in the palm of his hand. He felt a distant buzzing sensation in his mind, a strange connection to the rapidly proliferating data assistants within the Dimensional Vault.

He had to get somewhere safe. Somewhere isolated. He scanned his surroundings, desperately searching for a place to hide. He spotted a narrow alleyway, choked with discarded packaging and flickering neon signs, a few blocks away. He bolted towards it, pushing through the crowds, ignoring the curious glances of passersby.

He reached the alleyway, gasping for breath. The stench of decay and synthesized food filled his nostrils, but it was better than being in the middle of the street, a walking anomaly. He huddled against the grimy brick wall, his hand pressed against his chest as if to physically contain the chaos within the system.

The interface remained visible, a silent, glowing testament to the power he now possessed.

[Replication in Progress…]

[Dimensional Vault Volume: 2m³]

[Dimensional Vault Volume: 20m³]

[Dimensional Vault Volume: 200m³]

He watched in horror as the numbers climbed, each jump representing an exponential increase in the number of data assistants. He couldn't even fathom how many there were now. Millions? Billions? Trillions?

He had "absolute authority" over the system, but what did that even mean? He tried to focus, to exert some kind of control. He pictured the replication slowing down, stopping altogether. Nothing. The numbers continued to climb relentlessly.

He closed his eyes, desperately trying to visualize the Dimensional Vault, to get a sense of what was happening inside. He imagined a vast, empty space, rapidly filling with identical copies of the broken data assistant, multiplying at an impossible rate.

Suddenly, a thought struck him. The system was replicating the damaged data assistant. All those copies were broken, useless. He needed to stop it, to copy something else, something valuable, before the Dimensional Vault reached some kind of critical mass.

But how?

He tried to access the system's controls, to find some kind of menu or command prompt. He thought, he willed, he pleaded, but nothing happened. The interface remained static, displaying only the replication status and the ever-increasing volume of the Dimensional Vault.

[Dimensional Vault Volume: 2,000m³]

[Dimensional Vault Volume: 20,000m³]

He realized with a growing sense of dread that he was in over his head. He had stumbled into something far beyond his understanding, and he was rapidly losing control.

He needed help. He needed information. He needed someone who understood this world, who could guide him through the complexities of the system.

He remembered the memories he had gleaned from Kaito Tanaka's mind. He remembered snippets of conversations, fleeting images of faces, glimpses of a life he didn't yet understand.

One name stood out: Dr. Akari Sato.

A brilliant, eccentric scientist who had tutored Kaito in advanced programming. A woman who had seen potential in him, who had encouraged his curiosity and his unconventional thinking. She was his only hope.

But finding her wouldn't be easy. According to Kaito's memories, Dr. Sato worked for Chronos Life, the mega-corporation that controlled the immortality market. Gaining access to her would be a challenge, to say the least.

He opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on the shimmering skyscrapers in the distance. He had a plan. A risky, desperate plan.

He needed money. And he needed it fast.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, metallic pen that Kaito had apparently been carrying. It was nothing special, just a cheap writing tool, but it was something.

He focused on the system, picturing the pen, willing it to be copied.

[Override Expired.]

[Next Copy Available: 364 Days, 23 Hours, 58 Minutes, 12 Seconds]

Damn it! He'd forgotten about the timer. He had wasted his opportunity on a broken data assistant, and now he was stuck with it for a whole year.

He sighed, frustration building. He couldn't afford to wait. He needed to find another way.

He looked down at the pen, a new idea forming in his mind. He couldn't copy it, but maybe he could sell it. He knew nothing about this world, but he knew that even in the future, people needed to write.

He left the alleyway, stepping back into the bustling streets of Neo-Tokyo. He needed to find a pawn shop, a black market, anything where he could turn this mundane pen into something more valuable.

As he walked, the interface continued to flicker, the numbers relentlessly climbing.

[Dimensional Vault Volume: 20,000,000m³]

The ticking time bomb in his head was getting louder