Chapter 3: The Empty Stadium
By the time Richmond reached the stadium, the sun had already started its slow descent. The sky still burned with those strange tricolored streaks, like molten rivers frozen across the heavens. The walk hadn't been easy — half a day of weaving through twisted streets, overgrown sidewalks, and the occasional unsettling roar had left him both exhausted and on edge.
"…Finally," he muttered, pushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "If this isn't the evacuation point, I'm suing somebody… assuming lawyers still exist."
He slowed as the massive structure came into view. Cars were scattered outside the stadium, some parked neatly, others skewed at odd angles. The vines hadn't fully claimed them yet, but moss had already crept onto their tires. It didn't look like the result of a frantic evacuation — more like people had simply… stopped.
"Not exactly the end-of-the-world crowd I imagined," Richmond said softly. He stepped closer, scanning for signs of struggle: broken glass, blood, discarded belongings. Nothing obvious. Just eerie stillness.
He knelt to examine the ground. Tire tracks. Several of them. Fresh enough that the fast-growing moss hadn't covered them completely. They all led toward the main entrance.
"Evacuation route confirmed," he whispered with a weak grin. "Either that or a car club meeting."
---
Inside the stadium, the silence was louder.
The large gates were ajar. Richmond slipped through, careful not to make unnecessary noise. The interior was dim, light filtering through cracked skylights. The place smelled of damp concrete and plant life. His eyes adjusted slowly, revealing an unsettling sight.
Scattered around the entrance were half-eaten snacks, water bottles, phones left behind on benches, and backpacks that looked hastily abandoned. But there were no tents, no emergency signs, no people. The field itself was untouched — no footprints on the grass, no burned-out campfires.
"…Where the hell is everyone?" he whispered.
He crouched, picking up a phone. The screen was cracked but not dead. No signal. No messages. He set it back down, fingers drumming nervously against his leg.
"Okay, maybe they… left early. Moved to another location," he said out loud, forcing some logic into his voice. "Or maybe aliens. Definitely aliens. That'd explain the vines."
The sound of his own voice kept him grounded. He scanned the stands. Nothing moved, but the air itself seemed to hum faintly — like something large was breathing beneath the surface.
Then he heard it.
A deep, guttural growl echoed from somewhere beneath the stadium. Richmond froze. His grip tightened around the metal wrench in his hand.
"…Dogs?" he whispered. "No. That was… too low."
The growl was joined by others — overlapping, some sharp and feral, others guttural and heavy. It was like a dozen different animals were gathered in the dark.
And then came the second sound.
A faint vibration, almost like a frequency only barely within human hearing. It reverberated through the walls, through his shoes, and straight into his bones. Richmond winced, covering one ear instinctively.
"What the hell is that…?" he muttered.
---
He exhaled slowly and forced himself to move. Panicking wouldn't help. He searched the surrounding corridors until he found a storage room — small, tucked away behind a vending machine, and far enough from the growling that it didn't seem like any creature would stumble in easily.
"This'll do," he whispered, slipping inside. He shut the door quietly and leaned against it for a second, listening. The growls were distant here, muffled by walls.
He took off his bag and sat cross-legged on the floor. The moment his body relaxed, the exhaustion hit like a wave. But he forced himself to stay awake a little longer. He pulled out a small notebook and pen, tapping the cover against his knee.
"Okay… recap time," he murmured to himself. "Empty streets. No signals. Overgrown plants. Energy sky. Creepy vine kid. Stadium with zero people but lots of snacks. Growling beasts. Weird vibration. Totally fine. Everything's fine."
He started jotting down notes. Not as some grand survival plan, but as a way to keep his thoughts straight. He wrote down every detail he could remember, from his apartment to this very room. Dates. Descriptions. Sketches of the vine creature. Even a rough map of his path.
His phone's battery was down to 40%, but he plugged in his earphones and played some low instrumental music anyway. The sound helped keep him calm — and covered any accidental noise he might make.
"…If this were an anime, this is the part where the MC finds the last survivor and gets dragged into some crazy plot," he whispered with a wry smile. "Too bad I'm stuck with reality."
His eyes grew heavy. Against his better judgment, he let them close. Just for a moment.
---
Meanwhile, outside the stadium, the night had fully claimed the warped city.
Under the cracked concrete tunnel near the east gate, two groups of creatures had converged. One side — three beasts that looked like twisted versions of domesticated animals: a bulky stray dog, a goat with thickened bone plates, and a lean, two-tailed cat. Opposing them were three grotesque monsters, their forms far more erratic and vicious, eyes glowing like embers.
Between them, embedded in the cracked ground, was a metallic growth — a strange, glowing mineral vein. A new kind of natural alloy that had sprouted from the earth like a plant. The air around it shimmered with energy. The creatures circled, growling and hissing.
The dog lunged first, jaws snapping at the goat's flank, but the goat slammed it aside with a bone-plated headbutt. The cat darted through the chaos, agile and fast, but one of the monsters intercepted with a whip-like tail. Sparks flew as claws met bone.
The battle was raw and chaotic — beasts fighting for survival, monsters fighting out of instinct. Blood stained the tunnel floor. One by one, the weaker creatures fell, until only the two-tailed cat remained, its fur singed and body bleeding.
With a final desperate leap, the cat bit into the glowing alloy, swallowing a chunk of it before retreating into the shadows. Its body shuddered as the energy coursed through it, fur rippling unnaturally. It wasn't a victory… but it survived.
And high above, beyond the tricolored clouds, the night sky flickered — for just a second — as if something massive had pulsed from deep underground. In the distance, a faint, translucent **dome-shaped distortion** shimmered briefly over part of the city before fading. No human eye saw it clearly, but the beasts felt it. A tremor. A call.
---
Inside the stadium, Richmond stirred slightly in his sleep. A soft scratching sound echoed from the corridor. Faint. Measured. Like something testing the door.
He didn't wake fully, just shifted, the music in his ears masking the danger outside.
The scratching stopped.
And in the quiet that followed, the strange low vibration thrummed again — deeper this time, as if something beneath the earth had just drawn a breath.