The bone-piercing pain was still stuck deep in his soul, as if it had been torn repeatedly by countless rusty knives. Mu Chen opened his eyes suddenly, his chest heaved violently, and cold sweat instantly soaked the thin T-shirt on his back.
What he saw in his sight was not the ruins shrouded in black mist and shattering earth on the seventh day of the apocalypse, nor the ferocious tentacles of natural disasters that he had summoned with his own hands, but the familiar white ceiling, with a dusty basketball hanging in the corner, and the fan spinning feebly, making a soft "buzzing" sound.
Sunlight penetrated through the cracks in the curtains, casting a bright streak on the desk. The smell of instant noodles from the dormitory next door floated in the air, as well as the crackling sounds of roommates playing games and typing on the keyboard.
What the hell is this... A college dormitory?
Mu Chen froze for a few seconds, then slowly raised his hand. It was a clean, well-jointed hand with no criss-crossing scars or blackened by black air. He sat up abruptly and looked around - the layout of the bed and table, half of unfinished professional books piled on the desk, empty Coke cans next to them, and several posters of basketball stars on the wall, everything was exactly the same as he remembered the dormitory before the disaster.
