When the gold light faded,

  the first thing that struck him was the smell.

  Not the earthy scent of the forest,

  nor the dusty stillness of the stone chamber—

  but a harsh, layered stench of rust, rot,

  and the lingering bite of some chemical residue.

  Sunri frowned and instinctively tightened his hold on Pardy.

  Then he saw the world before him.

  They stood on a flat, gray platform,

  surrounded by towering… structures.

  Structures far beyond anything Sunri had ever imagined.

  In his old world,

  a three?story wooden house was considered tall.

  But these were giants—

  monoliths of steel and gray stone,

  their surfaces scarred with rust and fractures,

  some leaning at angles that suggested imminent collapse.

  A waist?high barrier marked the platform’s edge.

  Sunri stepped closer and looked down—

  —and drew a sharp breath.

  A dead city sprawled beneath them.

  Streets wound between the buildings like canyons,

  choked with debris.

  Toppled metal boxes.

  Shattered glass.

  Broken signs.

  And worse—

  plants.

  Vines and trees forced their way out of cracks in the concrete,

  climbing walls, strangling street lamps,

  slowly reclaiming the ruins of human creation.

  Green and rust intertwined,

  forming a beauty that felt almost cruel.

  The sky was a dull, oppressive gray.

  A few black birds circled overhead,

  their cries hoarse and grating.

  There was no wind.

  The air felt thick enough to suffocate.

  “What… is this place?” Sunri murmured.

  Pardy stirred in his arms, blinking awake.

  The child showed no fear—only quiet curiosity.

  Then, from the corner of his eye,

  Sunri caught a flicker of movement.

  A shadow crouched at the far end of the platform—

  a small creature, about the length of his forearm,

  its fur pitch?black and unnervingly sleek

  even in the dim light.

  Golden eyes stared at them, unblinking.

  A cat.

  Sunri recognized the shape—

  his village had wild cats too—

  but none this clean,

  this poised.

  The black cat held his gaze for three seconds,

  then rose with elegant indifference,

  flicked its tail,

  and walked toward the platform’s edge.

  There was a gap there—

  an opening leading into the building’s interior.

  The cat glanced back at him once,

  then slipped inside.

  Sunri hesitated.

  In this unfamiliar world,

  the cat was the only living creature they had seen.

  His instincts whispered:

  It wants us to follow.

  He decided to trust it.

  Holding Pardy close,

  he stepped through the opening.

  A metal door hung crookedly from its hinges,

  revealing a stairwell descending into darkness.

  Only faint light seeped through cracks in the walls.

  Sunri inhaled deeply and went in.

  The air was foul—

  mold, dampness,

  and a sickly sweet undertone of decay.

  Graffiti covered the walls,

  red strokes slanted and smeared like dried blood.

  A chill crept up his spine.

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  He descended two floors

  and reached a corridor.

  Doors lined both sides, all shut tight.

  Trash littered the ground—

  torn clothing, empty cans,

  a swollen book ruined by water.

  “Is anyone here?” Sunri called softly.

  His voice echoed down the empty hall.

  No answer.

  He continued downward.

  Third floor.

  Fourth.

  The darkness thickened.

  Pardy clung to his collar, silent.

  On the fifth floor, Sunri heard it.

  A faint, ragged breathing—

  broken, uneven—

  coming from the far end of the corridor.

  He froze.

  Sweat slid down his temple.

  The breathing grew louder,

  accompanied by dragging footsteps.

  Sunri stepped back,

  searching for a place to hide—

  but every door was locked.

  Then he saw it.

  Something staggered out of the shadows—

  a humanoid shape,

  or something that had once been human.

  It wore a torn suit,

  the fabric stained beyond recognition.

  Its skin was a sickly gray?blue,

  its eyes clouded white,

  its mouth smeared with dark red.

  But what truly horrified Sunri

  was the way it moved—

  joints twisting wrong,

  steps jerking like a puppet pulled by clumsy strings.

  It moved fast.

  The moment it noticed him,

  its dead eyes seemed to flare—

  and it lunged forward with a guttural roar.

  Sunri’s heart slammed against his ribs.

  One word flashed through his mind:

  Run.

  He turned and bolted up the stairs.

  Pardy jolted from the motion,

  letting out a small cry.

  The creature’s footsteps thundered behind them,

  its hoarse roars echoing through the stairwell.

  Sunri didn’t know how many floors he climbed—

  only that he burst onto a brighter level

  where an entire wall had collapsed,

  revealing the gray sky outside.

  The black cat sat on the broken edge,

  golden eyes fixed on him.

  Then it turned and darted into another hallway.

  Sunri followed without hesitation.

  The cat wove through the maze of corridors

  with effortless grace.

  Sunri chased after it,

  the sounds of pursuit rising and falling behind him.

  Finally, the cat stopped before a door—

  one of the few still intact.

  It scratched the wood,

  then looked at Sunri.

  Sunri grabbed the handle.

  The door opened.

  He slipped inside and slammed it shut,

  fumbling until he found a metal bar

  and forced it into place.

  A heavy impact struck the door immediately,

  followed by a furious snarl.

  Dust rained from the frame.

  Sunri pressed his back against the door,

  breathing hard.

  Pardy peeked out from his arms,

  glancing at the door

  and then around the room.

  The pounding continued a few more times,

  then faded,

  the dragging footsteps receding into the distance.

  Only then did Sunri dare to look around.

  It was a living space—

  about twenty square meters,

  furnished simply,

  everything coated in dust.

  In the center of the room sat a chair.

  A man was tied to it.

  Sunri recognized the knots—

  self?binding.

  The rope was tied in ways

  only the bound person could reach.

  The man looked twenty?five, maybe twenty?six.

  His blue work clothes were relatively clean,

  his hair trimmed,

  his face washed.

  His head hung forward,

  eyes closed.

  The black cat leapt onto a table

  and resumed grooming itself

  as if nothing unusual had happened.

  Sunri approached cautiously.

  “Hey… are you alright?”

  No response.

  Then Sunri noticed the man’s arm—

  a fresh bite wound,

  edges blackened,

  skin around it flushed an unhealthy red.

  It had been bandaged,

  but the cloth was soaked with blood and pus.

  “You’re hurt,” Sunri said quietly.

  At that moment,

  the man’s eyes snapped open.

  His pupils were blown wide,

  the whites streaked with red.

  Madness, pain,

  and a thin thread of remaining sanity

  flickered in his gaze.

  He saw Sunri—

  and a feral growl tore from his throat.

  His body convulsed,

  straining against the ropes,

  the chair scraping violently across the floor.

  Mini?Theatre

  Altered Man: “Grrr… rrhh… RRAH—!”

  Pardy ignored the sound completely.

  His tiny legs pattered across the floor.

  Pardy: “Kitty…”

  The black cat paused mid?groom,

  lifted its head,

  and after a long, reluctant second—

  Cat: “Meow.”

  Altered Man: “RRAAAH—!!”

  Sunri stood between them,

  watching the bound man thrash wildly,

  then watching Pardy and the cat interact

  as if nothing were happening.

  He was silent for three seconds.

  Then a very inappropriate thought drifted through his mind:

  …He looks like he’s thinking:

  ‘Can someone please pay attention to me.’