BOOM!
The explosion slammed him back into consciousness. Ears ringing, mouth full of dust and the metallic tang of blood.
He was lying on broken stones that dug sharply into his back. He looked around; faint shafts of sunlight stabbed through random holes in the walls, the only light piercing the darkness.
*Aftershock? No… that didn't sound like the building shaking.*
His frail body protested with every ache, but adrenaline won. He forced himself upright. The whole place could pancake any second. Then he heard a soft crying sound nearby.
"Hoo… hoo…"
It was her—the same girl from the library. The one with the… memorable physics. Now she sat curled among the rubble, knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped tight around them, flawless white skin streaked with gray dust.
He walked over, stepping carefully over chunks of fallen concrete.
"You okay?" he asked, voice low and hoarse from the dust.
*Brilliant question, genius. She's crying in a collapsed building. Of course she's not okay.*
*…Still, gotta say something. And damn, she really is pretty when she's terrified.*
She looked up. Hope flickered in her red-rimmed eyes for half a second—then died the moment she took in his skinny frame.
*Yeah, figured. "Great, my knight in shining armor weighs less than my backpack."*
He almost laughed at himself.
Another distant BOOM rolled through the ground like thunder. The walls shivered; fine dust rained from the ceiling. He left her crying for now. Curiosity outweighed comfort.
*Aftershock my ass.*
He took careful steps toward the gaping hole that used to be a doorway. No wooden door, no glass—just jagged stone and twisted rebar.
He stepped out—and froze.
Ruined skyscrapers loomed in the distance, their skeletons choked with thick vines. Grass burst through cracked asphalt like green spears. The air smelled of damp earth and rust, heavy with the silence of a city abandoned long ago. It looked like the aftermath of an apocalypse—or a war nobody had bothered to clean up.
*Where the heck is this place?*
*When did the university have those kinds of buildings?*
He spun back. No books. No tables. No faint hum of air-conditioning or lingering smell of instant coffee. Just ancient rubble and stubborn weeds pushing up through what should have been the university library floor.
"This isn't the university anymore!" the girl suddenly screamed behind him.
Pure survival instinct kicked in. He bolted back, clapped a hand over her mouth—gently but firmly.
"Shhh!"
He jerked his chin toward a fist-sized hole in the wall.
She peeked. He peeked.
About a hundred fifty meters away—three armed men in unfamiliar uniforms, rifles sweeping the ruins like they owned the place.
*Terrorists? Foreign invasion?*
*No. Wrong. Wrong everything.*
More soldiers appeared, herding a growing group of students—people he recognized from campus. One guy he knew from PE class, the taekwondo hothead, made a sudden grab for a rifle. A sturdy soldier noticed instantly and slammed the buttstock into the back of his skull before the move was even complete. The guy dropped like a sack of rice.
*Bro… timing. So that's how you do bullshido self-defense.*
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Boots on stone. Coming their way.
The girl's arms locked around his right arm in panic. Her chest pressed so hard against his shoulder he could feel her frantic heartbeat through the fabric. Normally that would short-circuit his brain. Right now it barely registered.
Thob-thob-thob-thob.
Cold sweat rolled down his temple. One single question burned brighter than fear.
*Surrender and join the herd… or disappear into whatever hell this is and roll the dice on our own?*
The footsteps were almost at the entrance—slow, methodical, each crunch of gravel on concrete echoing like a countdown in the stifling silence.
Only one person. He could tell from the rhythm.
He scanned the rubble desperately, heart slamming against his ribs, searching for any other escape route. Nothing. Just cracked walls, massive concrete boulders blocking every shadow, and the single gaping hole they'd come through. No way out.
The young woman locked eyes with him, her gaze raw with fear—wide, pleading, demanding an answer he didn't have.
He could only shake his head, a tiny, helpless motion. *I don't know. I don't know.*
Thob. Thob. Thob.
The sound grew louder, closer, each impact vibrating through the floor into his bones. His pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out everything else. Sweat stung his eyes; his mouth went dry as sand.
Too many thoughts collided at once—*run and get shot, hide and get found, fight and die stupidly.* Time was collapsing. One wrong choice and it was over—for both of them.
*If that soldier sees us hiding, he'll think we're resisting. One twitch of his finger…*
His stomach knotted tighter.
*Maybe I'm too paranoid. Maybe he's here to help.*
*No. You saw those rifles. You saw what happened to the taekwondo guy.*
The footsteps were right outside now.
"Ahh! It hurts…" he suddenly shouted, voice cracking as he doubled over, clutching his upper abdomen with both arms, sinking to his knees on the rough concrete.
The girl flinched hard, eyes flashing pure panic—*What the hell are you doing, you idiot?*—her face pale beneath the dust.
Thob. Thob.
Bam!
The soldier burst into view, rifle snapped up, muzzle pointed straight at their heads.
"Two more over here," he reported calmly into his comms, voice steady, almost bored.
The young man's breath froze in his throat. The black eye of the rifle barrel stared him down—cold, indifferent, ready. One pound of pressure and it would all end.
What hit harder than the gun was the man himself: towering, built like a weapon, every inch screaming lethal competence. They understood his words perfectly, yet nothing about him felt familiar. Short brown hair, sharp jaw, high-tech goggles, gear loaded for war. He was the kind of soldier who didn't miss.
The young man kept groaning, curled over his stomach, but inside he was screaming: *We're dead. We're so dead.*
*Who in their right mind would run from this guy? Only an idiot. Only someone who wanted to die fast.*
Then—miraculously—the girl caught on. Her hand settled gently on his back, rubbing soothing circles, her touch trembling but committed. Relief crashed over him like cold water. *She gets it. Thank God.*
"Sir… please," she pleaded, voice small and shaking, thick with genuine fear, "can you help us? My friend isn't feeling well. He's really in pain."
The soldier studied them for an endless second—rifle still raised—then slowly lowered it a fraction.
"Alright. Both of you, walk outside. Can you walk?" Professional. Detached. But not cruel.
The air rushed back into the young man's lungs. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath the entire time.
"Y-yeah, sir… it's a little better now," he rasped, forcing himself upright on shaky legs. The girl slipped under his arm, supporting him, playing the role perfectly. Her body was warm against his side, her grip tight with leftover lingering terror.
They stepped out into blinding sunlight that made his eyes water. The vast blue sky mocked them—beautiful, cruelly familiar—while ruined towers loomed like broken teeth, vines strangling steel and glass. The air smelled of dust and distant smoke.
"Sir, where are we going?" the girl asked, voice still fragile, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "And… where are we right now?"
*Smart. Keep him talking. Keep us human in his eyes,* the young man thought, gratitude and awe mixing with the adrenaline still flooding his veins.
"We are in the ruined city," the soldier answered, scanning the horizon as he walked them forward. "We will bring you to the safe place." A pause. Then, almost casually: "And yeah, just like you're thinking—this isn't the world, or even the planet, you used to know."
The words landed like a second explosion.
*Another world?*
*A different planet?*
*We're really… not on Earth anymore?*
His knees nearly buckled again—this time for real.