Andika burst out of the corridor and threw himself to the side, rolling hard across the stone floor.

  The ground where he had been standing moments earlier surged upward violently.

  Ten meters above, the air itself twisted—space folding in on itself. A distortion bloomed, and without warning, a boulder the size of an SUV tore free from nothingness and crashed down, sealing the corridor entrance completely.

  Huff—just in time. One second slower and…

  Everything had happened in the span of a heartbeat.

  The stone totem was still engaged in combat with the figure Andika had seen earlier. What unsettled him most was the way the fight defied logic. The totem’s blows should have landed—should have crushed flesh and bone—yet every time, the figure appeared suddenly beyond reach, as if space bent around them.

  Andika moved cautiously to the right, hugging the curved wall of the domed chamber. As he watched, the figure glanced at him—and instantly, their movements sharpened, faster, more urgent.

  The totem’s eyes flared brighter.

  From where its feet pressed into the ground, jagged stone erupted outward, racing beneath the surface toward the figure. They dodged, narrowly, again and again, until the stone surge slammed into the wall to Andika’s left—roughly at the ten o’clock position relative to the sealed corridor.

  Unbelievable… I need to stay sharp.

  The figure charged straight at the totem. The glow in the creature’s eyes and hollowed abdomen dimmed. The figure weaved through the attacks, slipped behind it, and struck—an arm turning indistinct, half-smoke, half-shadow.

  Then—

  The totem’s eyes ignited again.

  It slammed its hands into the ground.

  In the direction of its gaze, the earth rose and fell simultaneously—two massive stone walls forming from above and below, snapping shut like a vice to crush the figure between them.

  The chamber shrank.

  Those walls rose precisely at the three o’clock position from the corridor where Andika had entered, cleaving the domed space into two suffocating halves.

  The totem glanced toward Andika.

  Its eyes burned brighter.

  That same dreadful sensation surged through him.

  Danger.

  Without thinking, Andika sprinted along the curve of the dome, collided with the newly formed wall, then rolled inward—straight toward the totem.

  A new threat loomed.

  Gasping, Andika veered back toward the sealed corridor.

  Only now did he truly see what he had escaped.

  Behind him, the ground collapsed into deep pits lined with jagged stone. Patches of shifting earth swallowed anything that lingered too long. Massive rocks rained down without warning.

  One misstep—and he would have been crushed, impaled, buried alive.

  I’m alive… somehow. But I need an exit. There were only two corridors. One is gone. The other means passing that thing.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  A single opening. I just need one chance.

  He stayed alert, scanning the battlefield, waiting.

  Elsewhere, the figure everyone—including Andika—had assumed was already crushed… moved.

  He or She had survived.

  Using the totem’s diverted attack toward Andika, the figure slipped beneath its extended arm, darting toward the dimming green glow in its abdomen.

  Two meters.

  Their hand reached forward, fingers stretching as if to seize something vital.

  A victorious smile crossed their face.

  The totem’s eyes blazed.

  WUSH—WUSH—BAM!

  Its body shattered outward, spinning violently. Stone segments rotated at terrifying speed, forming a miniature tornado of crushing force.

  The figure recoiled, shock etched into their posture. Too confident. Too slow.

  Black mist poured around their body as they attempted to defend themselves. The stones struck—passing through at first—but the concealment failed.

  The mist dispersed.

  Stone collided with flesh.

  The figure was hurled through the air.

  Straight toward Andika.

  For a fraction of a second, Andika hesitated.

  Dodge—and live.

  Or catch—and risk everything.

  He chose.

  The impact slammed into him. He was dragged backward, skidding across the floor until his back struck the wall. His backpack absorbed some of the force. Friction stole the rest.

  Pain flared—but nothing fatal.

  Groaning, Andika turned his head.

  The figure lay nearby, writhing. One hand clutched their ribs. They coughed violently—blood spilling from their mouth.

  And then—

  The blood vanished.

  So did the body.

  Gone. Clean. Absolute.

  All that remained was a fading green glow—and the echo of falling stone.

  Now!

  Andika ran.

  Clutching his side, he bolted toward the opposite corridor.

  Click—clack—THUD—THUD

  Behind him, scattered stone scraped and slid inward, reforming.

  The totem rebuilt itself.

  The terrain ahead offered no room for maneuver. Craters and broken ground funneled him into a single path—straight past the monster.

  He focused.

  Fifteen meters.

  Ten—the totem finished forming.

  Five—it stood upright.

  Four—it turned.

  Three—its eyes ignited.

  Two—that sensation again.

  Keep running.

  One—

  The chamber shook violently.

  On instinct, Andika leapt.

  His hand plunged toward the totem’s abdomen.

  He grabbed something.

  Pulled.

  Landed.

  Rolled.

  And ran.

  The shaking ceased.

  No more impacts. No pursuit.

  But Andika didn’t stop—not until he cleared the first turn. Then the second.

  Ahead—light.

  Almost—don’t stop—RUN.

  He collapsed.

  Chest heaving, lungs burning.

  When he finally lifted his head, the ruins were gone.

  A river flowed calmly along his left. Dense forest stretched endlessly to his right. Grass grew thick between them.

  He staggered to a nearby tree and leaned against it.

  Only then did he look at what he had taken.

  What had once fit easily in his fist had changed.

  Now it was a book.

  Thick—ten centimeters. A black hard cover traced with gold ink along its edges. At its center, three dots formed an equilateral triangle, each spaced evenly apart.

  Below it, a single word:

  illiis

  Driven by curiosity, Andika opened the first page.

  Agony exploded inside his skull.

  Pain a hundred times worse than the impact in the ruins. His body convulsed. Sweat poured from him in torrents.

  “Aaargh!”

  “Aaaaargh!”

  He curled inward, clutching his head.

  Time passed—how long, he couldn’t tell.

  Eventually, the pain faded.

  Something had changed.

  He felt it.

  Before he could understand what, hunger and thirst struck him violently.

  His backpack—torn open.

  The glass—empty.

  Biscuits—shredded.

  Phone screen—cracked, but alive: 11:48.

  Charger—snapped.

  He knelt by the river and drank deeply, refilling what the containers could. No fish. Nothing living beneath the surface.

  His gaze shifted to the forest.

  He forced a thin smile.

  Careful. Treat this like something new.

  He ate the remaining biscuits and used the plastic to carry extra water. Entering the forest, his eyes scanned constantly.

  Then—he saw it.

  A strange tree bearing many kinds of fruit.

  To reach it, he had to pass between two trees whose branches bent inward—forming something like a gate.

  His chest tightened.

  He remembered the ruins.

  Slowly, carefully, he approached.

  One meter away, something stirred inside him.

  Drawn—like a child offered candy—he reached out and touched the trunk.

  Warm.

  Understanding flooded him instantly.

  A portal.

  Gate. Warp point. Passage.

  Now aware, Andika circled around and reached the fruit tree safely. He picked what he could—small tomatoes, apples, pears, bananas.

  Back by the river, he ate.

  From there, he could see three other “trees” nearby—ordinary at a glance, but no longer invisible to him.

  I need to move. I need to find a way home.

  Steeling himself, Andika stepped through the nearest gate.

  His prepared resolve melted instantly.

  Sand.

  Endless sand.

  Front. Back. Left. Right.

  Dunes rolled beneath a pale, unforgiving sky.

  “Oh… wonderful,” he muttered dryly.