Two days had passed since they'd become trapped, and the strain showed in everyone's posture and expressions. Lance watched as students huddled in small groups around the reading tables, their voices low but urgent as they discussed their dwindling resources.

"We need to talk about the water and food situation," Dylan said, standing at the head of their makeshift command center—three study tables pushed together and covered with inventory lists and crude maps. His typically calm demeanor had frayed, his voice carrying the weight of their predicament. "The water's running low, and we’ve only got enough food for maybe three or four days—less if we don’t ration."

Lance studied the neat columns of numbers they'd compiled. "We need to start rationing immediately," he said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "That includes both food and water. Better to stretch it while we still can."

The mention of rationing sparked immediate tension. Students shifted uncomfortably, clutching their water bottles and snack stashes defensively. Kevin, a nervous freshman who had spent most of the day clinging to the edges of conversations, raised his hand hesitantly. "What about... you know... the toilets?"

The suggestion hung in the air like a bad smell. Several people grimaced, including Substitute Professor Adler, who had been quietly grading papers as though maintaining normalcy might somehow restore it.

"That's a last resort," Lara cut in firmly, her counselor training evident in her measured tone. "We're not there yet. Let’s focus on conservation first. Small portions. Only drink when you’re truly thirsty."

As if to illustrate their predicament, Sarah Matthews, a quiet junior, approached a crying freshman. The younger student—Emily, he remembered—sat alone in a corner, tears streaming down her face as she stared at her empty water bottle. Without hesitation, Sarah pulled out her own bottle—her last—and offered it to Emily.

"Here," Sarah said softly, her gentle smile masking any reservations about giving up her final water supply. "You need this more than I do right now."

Lance observed the interaction, small kindnesses feeling precious in their isolation. His gaze drifted to Jessica, who sat cross-legged on a nearby table, focused intently on her drone's controller. She'd been unusually quiet during the resource discussion, seemingly lost in her own world of technical adjustments and preparation.

The sight of her working triggered another temporal anomaly. Lance blinked as he saw himself pacing near the reference section, except he was currently sitting down. The double image lasted only seconds before fading, but it left him dizzy and unsettled. These glitches were becoming more frequent—books resetting themselves to shelves seconds after being removed, students turning pages only to find themselves reading the same text again and again.

"I saw it too," Lara whispered, appearing beside him. She'd developed an uncanny ability to recognize when he experienced these moments. "The pacing thing. You’re not going crazy."

Lance turned to her, grateful for the validation. "It’s getting worse, isn’t it? The distortions?"

"I think so," she agreed, her voice low enough that others couldn’t hear. "This morning I watched someone write an entire page of notes, then suddenly their notebook was blank again. They didn’t even notice."

Their conversation was interrupted by Jessica’s excited voice. "I think it’s ready!" she announced, holding up her drone. "The battery’s fully charged. We might be able to see what’s happening out there."

The news drew a crowd. Students abandoned their resource concerns, gathering around Jessica as she moved toward the library’s entrance. Lance helped her clear space for takeoff to create a launch zone while others pressed close by, eager for any glimpse of the outside world.

"The feed will show on my tablet," Jessica explained, her confidence in her technical skills momentarily masking her underlying fear. "We should be able to see everything the drone sees in real time."

The drone lifted off smoothly, its propellers creating a low hum that echoed through the library's high ceilings. Jessica guided it through the glass doors, which they opened briefly for this purpose, ignoring the collective shudder as cold air rushed in. The tablet's screen showed their transformed world in stark detail.

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Gasps and murmurs filled the air as the footage revealed their surroundings. The ruined campus sprawled before them, buildings they'd known since coming here now overgrown and crumbling. Vines thick as tree trunks wrapped around dormitories. The dining hall's roof had partially collapsed, its windows dark and empty. Even the newly renovated science center looked centuries old, its modern glass facade shattered and dulled by time.

"Look at the clock tower," someone whispered. The camera panned up, showing the iconic structure in unsettling detail. Its windows seemed to ripple, and something moved behind the clouded glass—something that shouldn't have been there.

Then they saw him. Brad shambled through the woods below just past thelast of the ruins, but he wasn’t the Brad who had stormed out yesterday. This Brad moved with an unnatural gait, his clothes aged and tattered, his hair streaked with gray. He looked decades older, though they'd seen him recently. He flickered for a moment before vanishing.

"No," Jessica breathed, her hands shaking slightly as she controlled the drone. "That can’t be right."

As the drone angled away from campus and approached the city proper, the image began to deteriorate. Static crept in from the edges, and the video feed became increasingly unstable. The visible legs of the drone on the camera feed began to age, the sleek surface developing rust patterns that spread like hungry bacteria.

"Pull it back!" Lance urged, but it was too late. The feed cut out completely, and through the windows, they watched the drone plummet from the sky, a shadow falling through dark sky.

"We have to get it," Jessica said immediately, already moving toward the doors. "The memory card might still work. Maybe we missed something."

Lance quickly organized a small retrieval team—himself, Jessica, and two others who volunteered. As they approached the entrance, the shadows pressed closer, their movements more deliberate than natural darkness should allow. The oppressive silence outside seemed to reach for them, making every sound inside the library feel muffled and distant.

They made it halfway to the drone before Emily twisted her ankle, crying out in pain. Lance rushed to help her, noting how the shadows seemed to react to the sound, pulling back slightly from their group. He supported her weight as they retreated, the drone forgotten in their haste to return to safety.

Back inside, Lance helped Emily to a chair while Sarah examined her ankle. The failed mission left them all shaken, but something about Lance's calm handling of the situation earned him appreciative nods from several students.

Jessica sat alone by the windows, staring at her blank tablet screen. Lance approached carefully, noting the tension in her shoulders and the slight wince when she adjusted her posture.

"I saw something," she said before he could speak. Her words were strained, her voice wavering as if fighting against an invisible barrier. "In the clock tower footage. Something impossible." She looked up at him, her eyes wide with distress. "But I'm drawing a blank on the specifics. My thoughts seem to blur the view. Like it's protecting me from something I shouldn't know."

Lance settled into the chair beside her, watching the shadows beyond the glass. "I believe you," he said simply, understanding all too well how reality could twist and bend until the mind refused to process it.

They sat together in silence as evening approached, though time had become more suggestion than fact in their isolated world. The drone's loss weighed heavily on everyone, another failed attempt to understand their situation, another resource they couldn’t afford to waste.

What had happened to Brad? What moved behind the clock tower's windows? And most importantly—how long could they survive in this temporal island, watching their supplies dwindle while shadows lurked, waiting for someone to make a mistake?