A few hours after the impacts had stopped, in the underground bunker beneath RRCAT Indore.
A group of scientists and researchers had taken shelter in the underground bunker in the short time they had to react. The impacts were very sudden, leaving the majority of them unable to do anything and resulting in multiple unfortunate deaths.
ATLAS spokesperson Julia Watson and technical coordinator James Gray had been unlucky to remain stuck in the research facility for longer. However, they were fortunate enough to be among the survivors of the apocalypse.
Dr. Vikram had also managed to survive with a few of his colleagues. The masked man who had been with them most of the time had mysteriously disappeared right before the sudden event, but no one had enough time to question his disappearance, as self-survival was everyone's first concern.
"We need to go out, we can't risk staying any longer," someone wearing a white lab coat said.
"We don't have gas masks, it isn't safe," Vikram reminded him.
Before the small group of fortunate survivors could decide what to do next, they suddenly felt an invisible force pulling them.
In the center of the room, as the space seemed to warp around itself and collapse, forming a distortion, a pitch-black sphere appeared. It was the darkest shade of black, the true color of the void, as if it were a hole in space itself—a three-dimensional hole carved out of nothing, for it was the very definition of nothing.
The attractive force grew in intensity until, one by one, all of them were sucked in before they could react. Soon, none were left. Julia, who had been carrying the black box, had also fallen into the distortion, leaving behind the box that contained the manacule gradient graph.
...
As her eyes opened, Julia found herself stranded in an unknown place, her vision blurry and obstructed by the thick smoky air filled with dust, ash, and particulate matter. As soon as she realized her state, she quickly covered her mouth and nose to avoid breathing the air that could kill.
As she walked on, she saw a figure approaching from the other side. She was scared and tense, but as the figure came into view, her anxiety eased, for it was a familiar face. Funny enough, she had only met the man three days ago—it was none other than Dr. Vikram.
"It seems like we have been displaced to an unknown area. We should first find shelter," he said, leading the way.
...
James found himself in a similar situation. He was quick to realize his current state and began walking toward the sound of what seemed like an animal in the distance.
Luckily for him, after a few minutes of walking, he saw lights shining faintly through the thick air. He quickened his pace and soon found a shelter with other survivors.
...
In the underground bunker beneath the now-destroyed research facility of RRCAT, where the small group of fortunate survivors had taken shelter only to be sucked in by the distortion, a figure emerged from the void, his face long and marked by a prominent nose.
The person walked over to the black box lying on the ground, picked it up, and stepped back into the distortion.
...
The group of four, including Silas, had finally arrived at the survivor camp. They were out of water and dying of thirst. As they walked inside the camp, a few people were building a boundary around a designated area.
"What!? You're back!?" a man ran toward them.
He was short in height. Silas had to tilt his head downwards to look at him. However, as he observed the man, he accidentally stared a little too long.
"What, punk? Never seen a dwarf?" he growled.
Silas quickly apologized, but even before he could finish, the man had walked away toward Sophia instead. Perhaps the little man had plenty of experience with being stared at strangely.
"I cannot believe this, you actually made it back, you crazy woman."
"Had to save my son," Sophia said with a blank face.
"Anyway, can we please get some water!?" Yerah had been dying of thirst. As the one in charge of the team and responsible for guiding them back safely, she had been very tense the entire way. Now that they were back safely, she could finally loosen up and relax.
Yerah took off her mask and inhaled deeply. "How long has it been? Finally, some fresh air."
Fresh air? Silas glanced around. It was only then that he realized no one was wearing masks.
As his eyes scanned the area, he finally saw the reason why the air there was better than anywhere else.
A withering tree? So these exist here too, huh? In the middle of the camp stood a large tree, its leaves gray as roots hung down from it, and grayish-black, apple-like fruits grew on its branches.
Silas walked toward the tree, removed his mask, and breathed in the fresh air—the purest, most refreshing air he had inhaled in the last forty-eight or so hours.
This phenomenon was due to the corrupted trees, known as withering trees. When a tree became corrupted by manacules, instead of turning harmful like the beasts that now roamed the land, it underwent a unique transformation: its structure and pigmentation dulled, resulting in gray, lifeless foliage.
Despite their appearance, these trees performed an extraordinary ecological function. Within their effective radius, they could purify the air, absorbing smoke, ash, and particulate matter, breaking them down, and integrating these materials into their metabolic processes.
The efficiency of this process was amplified by the high levels of manacule-induced corruption. Overexposure enhanced the trees' capacity for air purification, making them far more effective than normal, uncorrupted flora at providing clean, breathable air.
However, this effect was context-dependent. In an environment where the air was already clean, a withering tree could overcompensate, consuming ambient gases, including oxygen, to sustain itself. In such cases, the tree could reduce local oxygen levels below survivable thresholds, effectively creating vacuum-like zones. Any organism entering these zones unknowingly would risk death by hypoxia, which is why these trees were historically referred to as Trees of Death in Silas's world.
In their current environment, however, the trees functioned differently. Here, they acted as purifiers, producing oxygen-rich air and removing toxic particles, transforming from instruments of hazard into essential sources of life. In this context, they were no longer Trees of Death—they had become Trees of Life, critical to survival.
As the corresponding information surfaced in his mind, Silas recalled his past doubts and realized that now was the perfect opportunity to find Sophia and ask all of his questions.
He began searching for Sophia but was unable to find her. As he walked around, Silas discovered an underground entrance, and like anyone else would, he decided to explore further.
In the large underground hall, he found more people. The survivor camp was divided into two parts: the surface, where the solitary Tree of Life stood in the center, and the underground area, where people were mostly resting, while some spoke quietly among themselves.
Despite the harsh and unforgiving conditions, every survivor carried a distinct look on their face—a look of hope. Perhaps they had endured as much as Silas had: surviving multiple meteorite impacts, facing thousands of zombies, and climbing a forty-foot elevation without any harness.
These survivors had fought tooth and nail for their survival. Everyone who had made it this far bore the marks of both physical resilience and mental fortitude. In such dire circumstances, finding other survivors was not just a flicker of hope—it was a roaring flame, a profound reminder that life, even in its harshest form, could endure.
He spotted Sophia talking to a group of people and walked over.
"We're using the lake for water. Purifying it is no joke, we're running low. As for food, we're killing those monsters. Apparently, someone discovered their meat is actually edible," the dwarf man from before said.
"Who was crazy enough to try eating them?" Sophia chuckled.
Noticing Silas approaching, Sophia quickly introduced him to everyone in the group.
"So you're the son for whom she risked her life."
"Son, you're lucky to have such a fine mother. She arrived at the camp at the very beginning—there were maybe ten people here. She left saying she had a son who was in danger."
There were a few people in the group, and Silas quickly became familiar with them. There was the dwarf man, Ralph Morgan; a tall man who claimed to be the captain of an official wielder team, Kel Korin; and an old lady who asked Silas to call her Granny Herma.
As the group discussed their plans, a girl came down the stairs, shouting,
"Does anyone have a phone, one that's not completely destroyed?"
She wore a mask that covered the lower half of her face, hiding her mouth and nose, her hair tied back in a high ponytail. Her jacket was cropped, barely covering her chest, with a bra underneath that left her midriff exposed. Her shorts were short, revealing most of her thighs, drawing the eye despite the practicality of her outfit.
Silas realized he still had his phone, which he had reflexively carried with him. The screen, which he had spent money repairing, was shattered again, but the phone itself was mostly intact, only slightly bent on one side.
Silas took the phone from his left pocket and was reminded that he had been carrying a gun stuffed in his right pocket all this time. He had almost forgotten about the weapon.
The girl seemed around his age, perhaps a little older.
"Why do you need it?" Silas asked, handing over the phone.
"Don't worry about it, you'll thank me for this. See you later, f**ker," the girl said, snatching the phone from his hands and running back upstairs to the surface.
What is with that attitude? And her vocabulary—so obscene…