The earthquake ended. Keneric stood up and looked around. A buzzing noise filled his ears, but his mind was clear. He patted his body, checking for injuries. A few scars here and there, but he was unharmed. Thank God.


    Next, he searched for his phone in the rubble. Before he could pick it up from the pile of dirty clothes, the earthquake had hit. Now, dust, dirt, and debris covered everything. After a minute of searching, he found his phone buried under glass shards from the shattered shower panels. The screen was cracked, but it still worked.


    Rows of missed calls from friends and family filled the screen. Shocked, Keneric saw the emergency alert and realized why they had tried to reach him. He quickly dialed his mother, but the call never connected. Worried, he tried his father, then his friends on campus. Nothing.


    Then he figured it out—no signal. Even the college Wi-Fi was down. He couldn''t check the internet for more information.


    "Maybe the earthquake took out the cell towers?" That was the only explanation. Keneric had no idea how big this disaster was. Without the internet, he couldn''t tell if only Melbourne was affected or if all of Australia was in chaos.


    Waiting for help was a bad idea. The disaster felt more like an apocalypse than a natural event. And Keneric had watched enough movies to know—you don’t wait around in an apocalypse. If the worst had happened, if the country had fallen, who would come to rescue them? It was better to collect supplies and search for law enforcement (if they still existed) rather than sit here and die.


    He turned on his phone''s flashlight. Under the beam, he saw the real damage. The gymnasium still stood, but shattered glass and broken ceiling tiles lined the floor. Cracks ran through the tiles like confetti. The situation was bad. Keneric didn''t want to stay here longer than necessary.


    But there were still useful things inside. Instead of leaving, he went back into the locker rooms, opening any lockers that hadn''t fallen face-first to the ground. Within minutes, he found a backpack, a first aid kit, some chocolate, and a metal mop. He broke off the plastic head, turning the mop into a makeshift spear.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Just as he debated whether to check the fallen lockers, a sound stopped him. It came from outside.


    A dog barking.


    Keneric relaxed. He knew that sound.


    He walked toward the gymnasium''s broken glass entrance, careful not to step on anything sharp. When he stepped outside, a new world greeted him—green, wet, and barely walkable.


    The barking came from a few meters ahead. A fallen tree lay there, and Bear was barking at it. Not a wild bear—bears don’t bark—but Bear, the dog adopted by university students years ago. Yes girls loved him for his brown fur, and the teachers tolerated him. His most unique feature was the area around his eyes. Darker than the rest of his body, the circular markings made it look like he had dark circles—fitting for his name.


    "Bear… come here," Keneric called.


    The dog ignored him, growling and clawing at the uprooted tree in a frenzy. Confused, Keneric used the straw grass as stepping stones to reach him.


    "Ugh…" Water seeped into his sports shoes, making him uncomfortable. He had just taken a shower, and now his shoes were waterlogged, and his body was covered in dirt. A bad day indeed.


    Using his makeshift spear to test the ground’s depth, he struggled forward. Finally, he reached Bear.


    "What''s the matter, boy?"


    Bear kept clawing and barking at the tree. When Keneric reached out to stop him, but something changed.


    The tree… shivered.


    Keneric stepped back, startled. Before his horrified eyes, the tree shrank in length and expanded in height, cracking as it grew.


    Fear surged through him. He grabbed Bear and ran for the gymnasium, not caring about his soaked shoes or dirty clothes. The dog squirmed in his arms, barking at whatever was behind them. The sound of dripping, cracking wood never stopped.


    Reaching the gymnasium entrance, Keneric turned around.


    His stomach dropped.


    A one-story-tall wooden humanoid stood there, unmoving. A single eye, half the size of a human, sat in the middle of its face.


    Keneric held his breath.


    The golem remained still.


    Keneric struggled to quiet the dog but failed. Bear leapt from his arms onto the gymnasium floor and barked even louder.


    That was all it took.


    The golem’s head—shaped like an avocado—moved. Its single eye locked onto Keneric.


    Fuck.