The streets were chaos. Smoke curled from collapsed buildings, and distant sirens sounded like the wails of the city itself. You clutched your backpack, heart racing, as debris fell around you. People were running in all directions, screaming, but you froze when you spotted her—Scarlett Johansson, looking just as stunned and terrified as you felt.

“Hey!” you called out, dodging a falling sign. She turned, eyes wide, and recognition flickered. “We… we need to get out of here. Now.”

Without hesitation, she nodded, grabbing your arm. Together, you darted through the streets, ducking under rubble and leaping over overturned cars. The air was thick with dust, making every breath a struggle, but neither of you slowed.

“Where… where do we go?” Scarlett gasped, her usual calm and composed demeanor cracked by panic.

“Anywhere that’s not collapsing,” you said, forcing a half-smile. “Follow me.”

You led her down a narrow alley, narrowly avoiding a crumbling façade. As you ran, adrenaline sharpened your senses. Every sound was amplified—the crash of metal, the groan of twisted concrete, the distant roar of something larger than destruction.

Hours passed, though it felt like minutes. You found a small, abandoned café and barricaded the door with whatever you could move. Dust coated every surface, and the flickering light from a shattered streetlamp outside cast ghostly shadows across Scarlett’s face.

“You okay?” you asked, kneeling beside her as she caught her breath.

“I will be… now,” she replied, a small smile breaking through the fear. “Thanks for… saving me.”