Sixth day, night.
"Whoosh—boom!!"
The violent explosion shattered the silence of the night.
After spending the entire day waiting in fear, the man listlessly clung to the door, his numb eyes imagining the outside world.
Suddenly, the ground shook.
What happened?
Had that Rescue Team come!?
He glanced back at his equally excited wife, listening to the explosions drawing closer and closer. He could feel both his hands trembling.
Weakness, dehydration, despair.
If this went on any longer, the three of them would starve to death here.
If the broadcasts hadn't said every day how many trapped Survivors they had rescued, the man might even have felt the urge to kill himself.
However, just as he vaguely heard soldiers shouting, ear-piercing static mixed with one anguished roar after another:
"Retreat!!"
"Monster! That monster isn't dead yet!"
"Boom!!"
"Boom!!"
The explosions were deafening. Even the Iron Gate he had braced in front of the door shook with them.
What was happening?
The man hurriedly crawled up from the floor and, like a bug in a clay pot, anxiously poked his head toward the window, peering outside through the gaps.
However, the window had long since been sealed shut, and he couldn't see anything.
The night was pitch-black. In the distance, flames swayed like sparks lighting up the darkness.
All he could hear were the sounds of engines and artillery, gradually moving away from here.
Had they fled!?
Had the monster he had seen before never left!?
"Come back!!"
The man broke down and went mad, desperately clawing at the wooden boards nailed over the window. He could no longer remain rational.
"Come back!!"
"Save us! We're in here!!"
His voice was soaked in grief, but the only response was the static crackling through the Broadcast Station once again.
"Survivors near the