You’re fleeing the monster. Run through the city. You never see it, but you can hear it. Hear its growl. Hear the rumble of its footsteps. You hide behind buildings. Dodging. Evading. Never more than a step ahead. Sounds of destruction and carnage. But you’re running out of places to run, to hide. You make it to the last house on the island and duck inside, down into the basement. There are already so many people there huddled, looks of terror on their faces. You face your own terror. But terror isn’t hopelessness. You wade through the water in the basement to the window. Someone is trying to kick a hole through the wall. But you pry open the window. It’s too narrow to squeeze through, but you keep peeling back layers until you’re out and swimming beyond the monster’s reach, falling over the edge of the world.