The seventeenth floor, where most of the debris from the upper levels had piled up, was now almost clear. Piles of broken concrete, twisted rebar, and shattered furniture had been dragged away over the weeks, leaving behind only the massive walls, heavy beams, and the meteor itself. Everything else had been cleared out by Thomas, Bryan, and Nevin through daily, exhausting work.
Of the three, Thomas had changed the most. In the beginning, they could barely shift anything beyond small chunks of rubble. But day after day, Thomas grew stronger. Now he could haul slabs of concrete that the three of them together once struggled with. Each morning his grip felt firmer, his movements faster, his stamina longer.
He no longer needed tools to split the heavy stone. With a focused strike, he could break boulders apart with his bare hands. The first time he did it, Bryan and Nevin just stared, silent, knowing it wasn't normal. All of them linked it to the pink fragments Thomas kept eating.
The thought hung between them, unspoken but clear. What if the fragments changed him? They remembered how Thomas once described seeing himself become a monster in his bangungot. Could this be the first step? But the days passed, and nothing happened. People who transformed after the meteor fall had done so within a day or two. It had been much longer. And besides, no one else could eat the fragments without retching, which made the theory hard to believe.
Still, the unease remained.
Now, back on the seventeenth floor again, the three of them worked through what little debris was left. Dust still clung to the air, and their clothes were streaked with grime, but the floor was nearly clear. For the first time since the collapse, it looked like they were close to finishing.
It felt like this might be their last day here.
They were just starting to clear the area around the meteor when a voice suddenly broke the silence.
"I knew someone was living here! I was right all along!"
It was the same delivery guy who had tried to loot them a few weeks ago.
Back then, when the looters first checked the building, he had no choice but to admit he was wrong. The jackpot he imagined simply wasn't there.
The days that followed only got worse. They had looted almost every building in the safe zone, yet their supplies kept shrinking. Then one day, the daily relief they relied on stopped completely.
The group confronted the team in charge of distribution, but what they found out made things even worse. Their so-called leader had run off into the pink fog, taking the last of the supplies with him. That was the end of food sharing. From then on it was every man for himself. Whatever you found, you kept, if you could protect it.
For the delivery guy's group, this was the breaking point. They had been the most loyal to the leader, even giving up their own shares to help others. In the end, that loyalty meant nothing. The leader abandoned them, leaving them with nothing. The group fell apart overnight.
Desperate and starving, the delivery guy tried anything to survive. He even chased down rats, but the meat smelled foul and tasted worse. His hunger grew unbearable.
With nowhere else to turn, he did the unthinkable. He stepped into the pink fog.
Inside the pink fog, the delivery guy stumbled across a house with food still left behind. He ate until his stomach was full, though he didn't dare carry anything back. If anyone saw him return with supplies, he knew he would be mugged before he even reached his corner.
The next night, he went back, hoping to find more. That was when he discovered why no one ever returned from the pink fog.
He saw a monster.
It stood about four feet tall, hairless, with long pointed ears and huge round eyes that gleamed in the dark. Rows of sharp, spiky teeth filled its mouth. Its belly bulged like that of a pregnant woman, and its skin was a sickly pale green. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was a goblin, the kind he had only read about in fantasy books.
The creature spotted him and charged. He bolted, running for his life until he crossed the line back into the safe zone.
The monster stopped, its body twitching with frustration as if something invisible kept it from entering.
"Wrahhhh!"
The roar that came from its throat shook the night. Everyone in the safe zone heard it. People froze and hid, their hearts pounding. Shouts like that were not new. They had heard cries echoing from the fog many times before. But this was the closest they had ever been, and it chilled them to the bone.
If the people below could hear the roar, then Thomas's crew heard it too. They were closer to the source. But this was the same night they had celebrated Nevin's birthday. After too much wine, the three men were out cold, sleeping like stones.
Iris, tipsy herself, stirred at the sound. The monster's cry seeped into her dream, twisting it into a nightmare. She opened her eyes, her heart racing. Another roar echoed through the walls, and fear washed over her.
She glanced around. Thomas lay nearby, fast asleep, and the others were no different. None of them had woken up, the alcohol holding them down. Iris thought about shaking Thomas awake, but her hand froze halfway. Instead, she sat down beside him on the futon, her back lightly pressing against his.
The warmth steadied her. The fear faded. She stayed there, leaning just enough to feel safe. Before long, her eyes grew heavy again, and she drifted back to sleep beside him.
A day after the incident with the goblin, the delivery guy was starving. He had not eaten for a whole day. By nightfall, he was shivering. Was it hunger or something else? He could not tell anymore.
As he curled up in the cold, a rat darted past him through a hole in the wall. It disappeared into the passage they once used to raid the food company building. The sight jolted his memory. Boxes of food. Shelves stacked high. His so-called jackpot that had slipped from his hands. Maybe, just maybe, there was something left.
Driven by desperation, he crawled into the building once more. He carried no flashlight, yet somehow he could see. His feet found the steps, his hands found the rails. Every turn felt familiar, like the darkness itself was guiding him.
On the fourteenth floor he stopped. Debris. Piles of it blocking the way. He frowned. He could not remember seeing this before. Had it always been here? Or were his memories mixing up with the countless buildings they had looted? This building stood out in his mind, though. This was the place he had pinned all his hopes on, and the place where his dreams crumbled.
He climbed higher. At the sixteenth floor door, he pushed, but heavy debris pressed against it from the other side. No way through. He kept going.
The seventeenth floor had no door at all anymore. It was sealed by collapsed walls and steel beams from above. Still, he did not give up. He squeezed and crawled, bending his body in ways he never thought possible. Somehow, without moving the heavy wreckage, he slipped through. Until at last, he reached it. The meteor.
Then he froze.
Voices. Human voices.
His eyes widened. "I knew it," he whispered to himself. "So they are the ones who took my food."
He sniffed the air. The smell hit him like a cruel joke. Rice. Pork. Soup. At a time like this, when the world was falling apart, these people were feasting. His chest tightened, anger mixing with hunger.
Right then he made a decision. He would teach them a lesson. This world had no rules anymore. If he wanted to live, he needed to take what was his. But the voices told him there were at least three of them. He would be outnumbered. He would wait until deep into the night, when their guard was down. Then he would strike, one by one.
Hours crawled by. The voices faded. The building grew silent. His time had come.
He crept forward, but then his body betrayed him. A shiver ran through him so hard his knees buckled. His skin burned from the inside, every muscle screaming.
"Urghhh!" The groan ripped out of his throat. He clutched at his arms, his chest, his stomach. The pain was unbearable.
Somehow, in the haze, a thought entered his mind. The pink fog. If he went back there, the pain would stop. His body begged him to obey. But he resisted. He was only steps away from his prize, steps away from survival. He forced himself to endure, to stay put.
The agony was too much. His brain shut down. He collapsed at the back of the meteor, unconscious.
When his eyes opened again, morning light was spilling in through cracks. Voices. Footsteps. They were coming. He scrambled to hide, but it was no use. The three of them were walking straight toward him.
His back pressed against the cold surface of the meteor. He had no choice. He stood, arms wide, and shouted.
"I knew someone is living here! I was right all along!"