The first sign that the world was ending?

The Wi-Fi went out.

Ava Zhang was halfway through a mindless scroll on her phone when the screen froze. No signal. No data. No connection.

She groaned, stuffing the device into her hoodie pocket and glancing toward the front of the lecture hall. The professor was still droning on about economics, completely unaware that Ava's attention span had checked out fifteen minutes ago.

Maybe the universe was trying to tell her something.

Maybe it was time to start paying attention.

Or maybe—

The floor buckled beneath her.

For a brief, hopeful second, Ava thought, Great. Maybe they'll cancel class.

Then the walls shook violently, the projector ripped from the ceiling, and students screamed as their desks slid across the room.

So… probably not just a minor earthquake.

The crackling emergency sirens outside confirmed it.

The universe wasn't sending a message.

It was sending a warning.

And from the way the entire city outside the window was collapsing, Ava was starting to think it might be serious.

If there was ever a time to run, this was it.

Ava vaulted over chairs and desks, dodging students who were either frozen in shock or actively panicking.

"Everyone stay calm!" the professor shouted, immediately contradicting himself by diving under the desk like a coward.

Not wasting another second, Ava bolted through the exit, her sneakers skidding against the trembling floor as she sprinted down the hallway and out into the open.

The campus was a war zone.

Buildings cracked apart, cars were either on fire or flipped upside down, and the streets had more holes than a conspiracy theory.

And the sky?

Yeah, the sky was not supposed to be that color.

A deep, unnatural red bled across the horizon, streaked with black smoke and flashes of green lightning.

"Well," Ava muttered to herself, "that doesn't look good."

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Mom: GET HOME. NOW.

The message had been sent exactly one minute ago.

Ava turned on her heel and ran.

The Scenic Route Through an Apocalypse

The fifteen-minute walk to her apartment turned into a two-hour obstacle course of nightmares.

She dodged falling streetlights, avoided gaping sinkholes, and only nearly died three times.

Which, all things considered, wasn't too bad for what was clearly turning into a full-blown extinction event.

She saw people trying to climb out of crushed vehicles, others staring blankly at the sky like they were waiting for it to fix itself.

The air grew thick with smoke and something acrid, burning her lungs with every breath.

By the time she reached her street, her legs felt like rubber, and her hands were shaking from adrenaline overload.

But her parents were outside waiting for her.

Her mother looked relieved and furious at the same time, and her father was already pulling her toward the car.

"Get in!" he barked. "We're leaving!"

Ava blinked. "Where exactly are we going?"

"The government's shelter—"

"Wait, the government actually prepared for this? Since when?"

Her mother shot her a look that said not the time.

Fine. Whatever. Ava would save the sarcasm for later.

She jumped into the backseat, slammed the door shut, and held on for dear life as her father sped through the ruins of civilization.

The bunker was three miles away.

They made it two and a half.

The last stretch of road was almost safe.

Almost.

But because the universe clearly hated them, the second they crossed onto the final bridge, the ground gave out.

Ava felt the drop before she understood what was happening.

The road beneath them collapsed inward, cracking apart like a brittle eggshell.

Her mother screamed.

Her father hit the brakes—too late.

Ava had just enough time to realize, Oh. That's a sinkhole.

Then everything plunged downward.

She had the vague, blurry sensation of falling—spinning—hitting something hard—

Then, nothing.

Ava woke up to pain and silence.

The first thing she noticed was that her entire body ached. The second was that it was way too dark.

She was half-buried in concrete and twisted metal, dust clogging her throat.

It took several agonizing minutes to pull herself free, her arms shaking as she pushed debris off her chest and forced herself upright.

Her parents—

The thought hit like a bullet.

Ava whirled around, scanning the destruction, but—

Nothing.

The car was gone. The road was gone.

And the sinkhole?

It had sealed itself shut like the earth had decided to erase them entirely.

Ava stared at the place where her parents had been.

Her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.

Her throat burned, but no sound came out.

She had no time to grieve. No time to think.

She had to move.

The bunker was half a mile away.

Her legs felt like they might give out.

But she kept running anyway.

By the time she reached the bunker, she was half-dead on her feet.

The military was already there, standing stiff and expressionless, letting survivors trickle in one by one.

Ava barely registered it when a soldier grabbed her by the arm, asking her some nonsense about shifters and systems.

She was too tired to care.

Someone pushed her forward, and the next thing she knew—

The bunker doors slammed shut behind her.

The outside world was officially gone.

Her parents were gone.

And she was stuck underground with strangers and soldiers, waiting to see what fresh hell came next.

Ava exhaled slowly.

"Well," she muttered to herself, "this is gonna suck."