"Seismic alert: estimated magnitude 7.1.
Please remain in your shelters. Do not attempt to move.
This is not a drill."
The mechanical voice of the radio echoed through the entire shelter, slicing through the silence like a blade. A cold shiver ran down Nael's spine, though he couldn't explain why. Around him, faces froze. Some turned toward the walls as if the concrete could still protect them from the threat to come. Others began to pray, weep pathetically... A mother within his field of vision clutched her child against her chest, eyes vacant.
The vibrations started only seconds after the announcement—light at first, but harbingers of disaster. A low rumble, barely perceptible, then growing louder. Objects fell from shelves, walls quivered, and dust rained intermittently from the ceiling.
If the shelter had held so far, there was no guarantee it would continue to withstand the devastating tremors. And Nael had no desire to be buried under piles of debris. If he had survived until now, it was thanks to caution and instinct. Over the past days, the tremors had been light, but the shelter shook constantly, amplifying the grim atmosphere that already reigned.
Next to him, sitting with knees pulled to his chest, Takeshi watched him curiously. Since his rather emotional revelation, the boy had turned silent again, speaking only when necessary.
A tremor, stronger than the previous ones, shattered the illusion of calm.
— "No way…" muttered a pale-faced man.
Nael didn't wait for the structure to collapse completely. He grimaced.
'I don't want to stay here. I've got a bad feeling.'
— "We can't stay here," he said aloud, turning toward Takeshi.
— "What?! But it's dangerous outside!" replied an old man, clinging to a pipe.
— "And you think it's safe in here? You want to be buried alive?"
He didn't expect to convince anyone. That wasn't his role. He wasn't a leader… just a survivor.
Nael stepped back, the tremors growing stronger. He shot a quick glance at Takeshi, who nodded silently.
A woman approached them, a compassionate look in her eyes. She handed them a small bag.
"Here, kids. Some water and food. If I can't convince you to stay… at least let me help you prepare."
They stepped outside together, leaving behind a shelter on the verge of collapse.
***
They walked for a long time, through ruins, split roads, hanging electric cables. The sky above was a dirty gray, evoking nothing short of the apocalypse.
Takeshi limped slightly, visibly exhausted.
— "I'm so tired…" he groaned. "I can't go on…"
Nael didn't answer. He was hurt all over too. But there was nowhere else to go—just forward. Just keep walking. Keep searching. Don't stop.
Then finally, at the end of a torn-up street, they found a building. An old multi-story structure, clearly abandoned for years. One side was completely collapsed, the other... miraculously intact. At least, as intact as one could hope for in this situation. The ground-floor windows were shattered, glass strewn across the floor, but the walls still stood. Nael studied the structure for a moment, doubtful. Nothing seemed about to give in just yet.
'Well... it's too late to turn back now, I guess…'
— "You think it'll hold?" Takeshi asked, voice trembling.
— "It's held this long. It'll hold a little longer."
Then, with a grimace, he added in his thoughts:
'I hope so.'
They entered, stepping over debris. Inside smelled of dust and stale air. Papers scattered the floor, overturned and broken chairs everywhere.
They climbed slowly up to the third floor. There, a room with a ripped-up couch and an old desk offered a semblance of refuge, an illusion of comfort.
— "Hey… How did you move all those rocks the day you saved me?" Takeshi asked, sitting in a corner.
Nael shrugged.
— "I don't know… adrenaline, maybe."
— "Still…"
Then he fell silent.
That silence stretched for nearly an hour. The tremors had calmed just as they'd entered the building, but had resumed again not long ago.
A heavy shock jolted Nael from his daze.
The floor suddenly vibrated beneath them. The remaining windows shattered with a thunderous crack, the ceiling groaned ominously.
The whole building creaked in protest.
Nael jumped to his feet, lowering his head as if he could see through stone. Meanwhile, Takeshi anxiously scanned the walls around them.
— "Uh… I think we should go back down."
They raced down the stairs, floor after floor, skipping steps in their rush. The walls shook violently. Chunks of ceiling fell around them, missing them by mere inches.
A loud crash echoed behind them. The staircase they had just descended collapsed in a deafening roar.
— "Ahhh!" Takeshi screamed.
Another jolt followed.
Takeshi lost his balance, tripped, slammed into Nael from behind. Both tumbled painfully down, landing in the entrance hall they'd passed through an hour earlier. Nael's arm struck a broken railing, cracking under the impact. He suppressed a groan.
Dazed and burdened by Takeshi's weight, he held his injured arm with his good hand and pushed the boy aside to get up quickly. He looked around. The walls were still trembling violently—clear sign they were still in mortal danger. To his left, a neon light had fallen and now hung from the ceiling by a few electric cables. Behind it stood a door. The door was dented in places, the handle half-torn off, but Nael had no other option. He stepped over the neon light, grabbed the handle, and followed by the boy, he pulled the door open with all his strength.
A stairwell was behind it, fading into darkness a few meters below. The sight didn't exactly inspire confidence, but it wasn't like he had a choice anymore. With a strange expression, he stepped into the shadows, followed by Takeshi, abandoning all light behind them.
They descended in darkness, groping their way down carefully to avoid falling. Every step echoed along the damp, cold walls. Dust fell from the ceiling with each new tremor, though it was muffled now by the chilling silence of the dark.
Time stretched on as they descended for several minutes. Then, finally… a light.
It was faint—but at least it was real.
Nael quickened his pace, driven by excitement and an urgent need to be in the light. They emerged into a large, quiet room. The walls were covered in mold stains, the floor cold beneath their feet—same material as the stairwell. The air was heavy, humid.
And in one corner of the room, huddled together, they saw them.
A man, emaciated, dark rings under his eyes, mouth slightly open and parched. A young girl curled up beside him, trembling under a torn blanket.
The man's gaze slowly lifted. He struggled to keep his eyes open.
Nael recognized him.
It was the man who had been denied entry to the shelter days ago. The one people had turned away, despite his pleading.
He was still alive.
Nael exchanged a look with Takeshi, saying nothing. The tremors had finally stopped—long enough for Nael to sleep. Relieved, and overtaken by fatigue, he slid to the ground wordlessly and closed his eyes.