Capítulo 202: Chapter 202
In the still of the night, when the world grew heavy with the expectation of sleep, the earth began to crack. The first signs were subtle—nothing more than a tremor in the ground, a small crack in the road. But as night deepened, the cracks grew wider, the trembling of the earth sharper. Beneath the surface, something moved.
It was alive.
The first time they saw it, they thought it was just a flare-up from an old volcanic vent, a sign of some old volcanic activity that had been dormant for years. They'd seen eruptions before. This wasn't like that.
At first, it was just a streak of bright orange crawling out from the earth like a snake. The people had gathered around it, thinking it was a freak accident, that it would subside as quickly as it had come. But then it moved again. The magma pushed itself forward, almost intentionally, as if testing the limits of its surroundings. It shifted and bubbled, as if breathing. And then, with a suddenness that made the ground beneath them tremble, it surged.
The people screamed. Some of them ran, while others froze, their eyes fixed on the glowing mass as it spread outward. They couldn't look away, couldn't move. The air burned. The first to die were those who had lingered too long, watching it instead of fleeing. The heat curled around their bodies like a snake, sinking into their skin. By the time they screamed, their voices were drowned out by the roar of the earth cracking open.
The thing—no, it wasn't a thing, not anymore—began to move faster. The ground was no longer its prison. It was sentient now, it had learned, and it had an appetite. The survivors couldn't run fast enough. They had thought they were safe for a moment, but the night wasn't over. It was only beginning.
Lena was one of the last to escape, her legs burning, her breath coming in jagged gasps. She reached the old steel gate at the edge of the town, but her hand hesitated before pushing it open. Behind her, the earth cracked wide open, the glow of the magma's fiery body licking the air. She didn't look back, but she could hear it. It was getting closer. She shoved the gate open and fled into the darkened woods.
The ground under her feet was soft with wet leaves, but she didn't care. She had to keep moving. The heat was close now, the air thick with smoke and the stench of sulfur. Her eyes stung, her chest tight with fear. She didn't know where she was running anymore, just that she couldn't stop. The sound of the magma was deafening now, and Lena could feel it in her bones, vibrating through the earth like a warning.
She thought she had outrun it, but the world beneath her feet didn't hold steady. With a sickening crack, the ground split again, and the magma surged up from below, tearing through the dirt like paper. It was there, right there, clawing at her. She didn't have time to scream. It caught her before she could even turn to face it.
The heat enveloped her, burning her skin and cracking her bones. The last thing she felt was the molten fire pouring into her mouth, and then there was nothing.
The earth trembled every night after that. People began to abandon their homes, fleeing into the forests, the hills, anywhere they could go to escape. But there was no escape from the ground. The sentient magma spread, crawling like a living thing, tearing the earth apart in its wake.
No one knew where it had come from. Some said it had always been there, waiting, buried deep beneath the surface. Others believed it had been awakened by some ancient force, an event no one could comprehend. It didn't matter. It didn't need a reason to kill. It had learned the art of destruction, and it didn't care who it took with it.
By the time most of the towns had emptied out, the cities were already starting to crumble. They had tried to fight it. They had thrown everything they could at it—fire, water, explosives—but nothing worked. The magma was too strong, too alive. The more they fought it, the angrier it became.
People began to disappear overnight. Some were taken without a sound, others were left to die in the streets, their skin burned and blistered, their bodies reduced to ash. The world became a place of horror. Night was no longer a time of rest, but a time of dread. The earth, once a stable, reliable thing, became a living nightmare.
Lena's brother, Alex, was among the last survivors. He had fled when she had, but he hadn't made it as far. He had heard her screams, felt the earth shudder beneath him as the world began to tear apart. He had seen the glowing magma crawl like a serpent, and he had tried to outrun it.
But it was no use.
Alex had found refuge in an old farmhouse at the edge of the town, but there was no peace. The land around him was dead, the trees charred and blackened. The nights were long, and the stars above him felt cold and distant. But Alex held onto the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a way to survive this. He had heard rumors, whispers from the other survivors. There was a place—somewhere far away—that might still be safe. But it was a long shot. It was all they had left to hope for.
And so Alex waited.
Night after night, he sat in the dark, listening to the sounds of the earth cracking, of the magma crawling closer. The nightmares never stopped. The fire always burned in the distance.
One night, it came. Alex had been sitting by the window, staring into the blackness, when the first tremor hit. It wasn't like the others. This one shook the ground so violently that it knocked him to the floor. The walls of the house cracked, and a low rumble filled the air, like the earth itself was speaking. He knew, then, that it was time.
He didn't wait for the inevitable. He ran. He didn't know where he was going, but he had to go. He had to keep moving. He reached the edge of the town and stopped for a moment to look back.
The glow of the magma was already there, spreading out from the earth like a living nightmare. It was faster than he could ever hope to be. It had already taken the others. It would take him too.
And then, the ground split open beneath him.
The last thing Alex heard was the hiss of the magma as it poured from the earth, as the world was torn apart around him. He didn't scream. He didn't have time. His body was swallowed by the earth, consumed by fire.
There was no more world after that.
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