The thought of one of those crocs finding a way into the sewers sent a shiver down my spine. Pursued by those things in the dark, slippery tunnels? I’d be completely screwed.

Their thick tails were a clear indicator that they were comfortable in water, or at least capable of navigating these damp, muddy corridors with ease. I, on the other hand, was neither a good swimmer nor particularly agile.

I was also pretty sure that a fall of even five meters wouldn’t do them much harm. For me, it would likely be fatal since it would slow me down enough for the damn things to pounce at me. And then it would be dinner time for them.

Also, everyone has heard about the rumors of crocodiles in the sewers. I could only hope it would remain somewhat of an urban legend, even as the world was apparently ending. Or starting over.

But now it was getting dark. The faint light filtering in from the grates was fading rapidly, plunging the tunnels into near-total darkness. I needed a safe place to rest, to think, to plan. To make sure I wasn’t making a decision based on ‘it would be so much fun’, this isn’t a game.

I retraced my steps, back through the narrowest tunnel I found, and eventually reached a section where two narrow concrete entrances converged, creating a small, triangular room. It wasn’t much, but it was the safest place around.

I leaned against the cool concrete, catching my breath. I needed to think. And sleep, if possible. But what gnawed at me, now that the immediate threat had subsided, was the growing realization that I was thirsty and hungry. My stomach rumbled, a reminder that I was most likely running on fumes. Not that hungry considering it’s been over two months since I had a proper meal.

Staying in the sewers wasn’t a long-term solution. There was no food or water down here, nothing to sustain me. Tomorrow, I would have to venture out, to find a way into one of the buildings.

The cafeteria would be ideal. I remembered the large grates in the kitchen, designed for ventilation and drainage. They were wide enough for me to climb through, but too narrow for those creatures.

But I had no idea what the cafeteria looked like now. I hadn’t seen it from the roof. It might be a couple kilometers away or even long gone, buried in the freaking swamp. Not an option at all.

And then there were the sewers themselves. For all I knew, the sewer network could end in the goddamned croc infested swamp, an underground lake, a collapsed cave, or a giant root system that clogged everything up. I hate unknown variables.

But that was a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, I needed to rest.

I pulled the fire axe from my belt. The head was still covered in the creature’s dark, almost black blood. I wiped it clean on the wall, grimacing at the sticky residue.

Using the axe’s sharp edge, I began to scratch a rough map on the damp concrete wall. I marked the entrance I had used, the three junctions I had explored, and the big chamber where I had stopped to check the grate. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A tangible representation of my progress, a way to orient myself and to keep focus.

When the map was finished, I found a relatively comfortable corner and sat down, leaning against the wall. The concrete was cold and hard, but I was too exhausted to care. It was dry, at least.

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the gnawing hunger and the persistent thirst. Sleep came slowly, but it did come. Every creak and drip of water in the tunnels sent a jolt of fear through me, keeping me on edge. This sucks.

The first rays of light, filtered through the grates above, signaled the start of a new day. Or whatever passed for a day in this fractured world. I pushed myself up from the floor, my muscles stiff and sore.

The night had been restless, a constant cycle of dozing and waking with a jolt, every drip of water and rustle in the tunnels amplifying my anxiety. I hadn’t dared to truly sleep. And it got pretty cold.

There was no breakfast waiting for me, of course. My stomach growled louder in protest. I needed food. And I needed water even more urgently despite feeling more hunger than thirst. Staying in the sewers was, unfortunately, not an option.

I also needed shards. Preferably lots of them.

My mind ran through the possible locations on campus that might offer sustenance.

The dorms were the most obvious choice. Students always kept snacks and drinks stashed away, hidden from resident advisors. But it didn’t seem to be in great shape. And the walls there were thin enough for one of those scaly things to go straight through it. I couldn’t do the same. And this means once they knew I was there they would tear the building apart to get me. No, thanks. I will pass.

The cafeteria would be ideal, a veritable treasure trove of food and supplies, but that one is out. It was out from the very start. It’s just the thought of the proper meals available there that keep making my mind return to it. Just to suffer.

Any other building would be a long shot, dependent on sheer luck.

Except… the library.

There were vending machines in the library lobby. Not exactly gourmet fare, but they would provide calories and, more importantly, bottled water. It wasn’t far from where I had entered the sewers, a short five-minute walk on a normal day. Now, it would likely take a couple hours.

The biggest concern was the giant redwood tree that had merged with the library. Its roots, thick as a man’s torso, spread out in all directions, likely disrupting the surrounding area. They could even be blocking the path to the library, or worse, they could have breached the sewer system itself.

But it was my best choice. And I had the axe.

As long as the roots, or the tree itself, hadn’t created a new entrance for the crocs, I could probably manage navigating my way there. Unless, of course, the tree or its roots were as tough as the scales of the crocs. Then it would take me days to carve my way through, and I don’t have that much time.

I took a deep breath, steeling my resolve. Time to go. Planning can only get me so far.

I scanned the small chamber, searching for anything I could use for protection. My eyes landed on one of the thinner metal grates covering a ventilation shaft. It was small, barely a half meter square, but it was better than nothing.

I used the axe to pry the grate loose from the wall. It came away with a screech of rusted metal, the sound echoing through the tunnels. I winced, listening intently for any response. But the silence remained unbroken.

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The grate was flimsy, thin metal that wouldn’t do much against those creatures’ powerful jaws. But it would provide a small sense of security, a psychological barrier.

I held the makeshift shield in one hand and the axe in the other, feeling the weight of the metal in my grip. I was as ready as I could be. Which doesn’t really mean much.

I started moving through the tunnels again, following the path I had mapped out the previous night. The sounds of rustling that I heard during the night didn’t do wonders for my sense of security. I moved cautiously, tapping the axe against the walls and the floor, listening to any sounds.

The tunnels were narrow and twisting, forcing me to duck and sometimes even crawl through tight spaces and climb over piles of debris. At least no crocs would ever manage to get into the sewers through this place.

The air was now starting to get thick with the smell of damp earth. I could feel the dampness seeping into my clothes, chilling me to the bone. Not good.

After what felt like an eternity, I reached the junction that most likely led towards the library. I paused, listening intently. There was no sound, only the drip, drip, drip of water.

I took a deep breath and turned into the tunnel. It was even narrower than the others, barely wide enough for me to squeeze through sideways. I had to hold the makeshift shield close to my body to avoid getting it stuck. The smell intensified.

After a dozen meters of squeezing, the tunnel sloped upwards slightly, indicating that I was getting closer to the surface. A faint glimmer of light appeared ahead, growing brighter with each step.

Another dozen meters later, I reached the end of the tunnel and found myself facing a solid wall of earth and roots. The roots of the giant redwood had indeed infiltrated the sewer system. Shit.

But at least there was no opening for gators. Small blessings.

The roots were thick, gnarled, and covered in rough bark. It was as if they were contorted trunks of regular trees coiling on top of each other.

I had no other choice. It was probably like this all around the library. The tree was indeed massive.

I looked at my trusty axe, at its magnificent twelve and a half centimeters of sharpened steel.

Then I looked at the nearly two meter tall wall of thick roots that looked like tree trunks standing between me and the library. Between me and the food and water I needed.

This is going to hurt so bad in the morning.

I pressed my ear against the wall, listening for any sounds from the other side. I could hear nothing, only the faint rustling of leaves high above.

I took a step back, examining the roots. They were tightly packed together, forming a solid barrier. It would be a difficult task to carve my way through, but it was the only way forward.

I raised the axe, hefting it in my hand. The metal felt cold and heavy. I took a deep breath and began to swing, the dull thud of the axe against the wood echoing through the tunnels.

The morning sun was already high when I finally broke through. My hands throbbed, covered in fresh blisters. I might have pushed myself a little too far.

The axe, once a reassuring weight, now felt like a leaden burden. It had taken hours of relentless hacking, chipping away at the thick, gnarled roots of the redwood.

Not removing them entirely, of course. That would have been impossible. But I’d managed to create a hole just wide enough for me to squeeze through. And that’s because the roots weren’t nearly as resilient as the crocs’ jaw.

I slowly slid through the opening, landing with a barely audible thud on the other side. I was under the library. The air here was noticeably different, much drier than the sewers. A faint, almost artificial scent hung in the air, a reminder of the building’s former purpose, mixed with the smell of earth and wood.

I liked it.

Above me, I could see the floorboards. The vending machines were up there, waiting. And full of goodies. Hopefully.

I stood up, trying to brush the dirt and grime off my clothes. I failed.

I looked around. The space beneath the library was a crawlspace, dark and cramped. Support beams crisscrossed the area, creating a maze of shadows. No way for crocs to get through it, not unless they chewed on the beams, which I wouldn’t doubt they could.

I listened intently, straining to hear any sounds from above. There was nothing, only the faint creaking of the tree trunk and the distant rustling of leaves from the redwood. No crocodilian hisses, no snapping jaws. Good.

A wave of relief washed over me. For the moment, at least, I was fine. I will probably get my chance to make it to the surface without much problem.

But I couldn’t let my guard down. The world outside could have changed drastically. The vending machines could be empty, trashed, or even guarded by more of those creatures.

There was a system in place, it might consider the food and water from the vending machines as some weird form of loot and protect it with its minions. I wish I could get more information. Lots of it.

But I still had no spirit shards. The sewer system clearly didn’t qualify as a dungeon. No sign of any glowing crystal shards anywhere. They would be really easy to spot down there.

And, even if I couldn’t dream of fighting the crocs, I could still defeat them. If I got them in the right place, at the right time, that is. That’s how you take down prey without needing to face them head-on. Big brain for the win.

But that’s for later. I knew I was getting weaker by the minute, even if I didn’t feel as such. I wouldn’t have the strength to hunt crocs if I didn’t replenish my energy. And I wanted to hunt crocs. I really wanted to hunt them. But now wasn’t the time.

Trying my best to ignore the endorphin drenched portion of my reptilian brain thinking of dealing with reptiles, I figured out it was time to try my luck and climb up. I could always jump back down into the sewers if those creatures were waiting for me up there. So, I made sure that I picked a path that will let me traverse it with little difficulty while being impossible for anything bigger than me.

I scanned the crawlspace, which already fit my plan of a good path. Looking for a way up. I found a sturdy support beam near the western wall, with several smaller wooden planks nailed to it, forming a makeshift ladder. It looked old and rickety, but it was my only option.

I approached the ladder cautiously, testing each plank before weight on it. Slowly crawling up to the trap door that should open through the floorboards. It creaked and groaned under my weight, but it held as I climbed slowly, carefully, my muscles aching with every step.

The air became warmer and drier as I got to lift my head near the level of the floor above. Or at least I convinced myself it did. Finally, I reached the top of the ladder and peered through a small gap made by lifting the trap door a little bit. I could see the familiar linoleum tiles replacing the wooden floorboards at the library lobby. The vending machines should be just a few meters away.

I listened intently for a couple of minutes. There was no sound. So far, so good.

I took a deep breath and pushed the trap door open. Thankfully, it was big enough for me, but not big enough for crocs thanks to the stairs beneath it. Although, I think if one of those things throws itself without a care it could break in and create a path for more of its siblings to come after me.

No point in dwelling on this. I couldn’t do anything about the sturdiness of the floorboards against a two to three hundred kilograms angry lizard. So, I squeezed through the opening, pulling myself up onto the library floor. I stood up, brushing the dust and cobwebs off my clothes.

The library was eerily quiet. The rows of bookshelves, once filled with students, were now empty. Dust motes danced in the shafts of light that streamed in through the large windows and the newly created ventilation system thanks to the huge tree that spawned within the library.

There were no crystal statues here. Which I found a bit odd since there’s always people around, no matter the time of the day. And some should have been here when the shit hit the fan.

But I couldn’t be bothered as of now. I turned towards the vending machines. They were still there, thankfully, and they looked untouched, as if time had simply stopped when the world had changed.

No twisted metal cases or broken glass shards all around, which was the worst scenario for me. I approached the nearest machine, my heart pounding with anticipation. I peered through the glass, scanning the rows of snacks and drinks. There were chips, candy bars, sodas, and bottles of water. A veritable feast.

I tried to make fun of the situation, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t sarcastic either. Although I did try.

Apparently, your danger scale wasn’t the only thing that gets automatically updated at the end of the world. I was salivating while looking at cheap chips and shady sodas after all.