text: You claw your way towards what used to be your personal residence. The roof has been torn off, the front door is hanging on by mere threads, and the interior has been devastated beyond recovery. Only pieces of shattered wood remain here now. The wind picks up, and for a second you almost lose your grip, but you somehow manage to make it inside. What remains of the wall here serves as a temporary shelter.
  
  Even so, the feeling in your gut tells you that the entire island is picking up more speed than before. The chains will not be repaired: it is not going to stop. Your chances of survival are slim at best.
  > You pick up some of the fragments of wood
  You scramble across the floor to where your bed used to be. It is now nothing but rubble, broken into multiple pieces by the pressure of the fall. Most of the fragments are too small to be of any use, but you do find a few sturdy pieces which could be used as a weapon. A weapon? Why on earth are you thinking of weapons now? The realisation comes in an instant: the world really has gone wrong. The crumbling of your island may not be the only danger which awaits you. You need to get your hands on everything you can get.
  
  The wind is now powerful enough to shred this little piece of wood into pieces, so you hastily tuck it inside your thin tunic for safekeeping. Perhaps it will come in useful later, assuming you have a future to look forward to...
  
  At your back, small cracks start to spread out across the walls of your house. The entire island is shaking, causing the cracks to widen.