“I didn’t almost die,” Kenneth said. “I think my brain was just rebooting.

“You were right when you said welcome to the past,” he continued. “I just traveled back in time from six years in the future. And the reason we can’t go to the hospital, is because the world ends in four hours.”

Jessica stared at her brother, entirely unamused.

“What is wrong with you?” she asked him. “Can’t you see that this isn’t the time for your stupid jokes?”

Kenneth frowned, but instead of arguing, he said instead; “You know what? You’re right. It’s a stupid joke. Now I just need you to play along with it for four hours. Just until 09:05,” he adds, looking at their mother.

“After that, if I’m wrong, you can take my phone, you can take my games; punish me however you want. All I need from you is to play along for the next four hours.”

Their mother looked at Kenneth like she was beginning to suspect what Jessica had known for years, that there was something seriously wrong with her brother’s brain.

“What if I’m right?” Kenneth asked, those strangely unfamiliar eyes peering at them with more intensity than Jessica had ever seen from her brother. “Think about that. What if I’m telling you the truth?”

“You’re not,” Jessica said.

“How do you know that?” Kenneth asked.

“Uh-uh, no, you’re not turning this around,” Jessica said. “The burden of proof here is on you. Not me.”

“And I can give you that in four hours,” Kenneth said.

“When, according to you, the world supposedly ends.”

Kenneth sighed. “Look, I know how this sounds—”

“You clearly don’t,” Jessica said. “We wake up to find you having a stroke, and now you’re telling us that the sky is falling because you had a vision of the future, and you expect us to—”

“I didn’t have a vision, I’m from the future,” Kenneth said flatly. “And nobody said anything about the sky falling.”

“Then how does the world end?” Jessica asked. “No, wait, don’t tell me. I’m guessing aliens.”

Kenneth stared at her in silent annoyance.

Jessica’s eyes widened. “Wait, seriously? Aliens? That’s what you’re going with? Not even something practical like a massive solar flare, or a bunch of micro-dicked men with too many bombs? You’re going with aliens?”

Kenneth took a slow, deep breath, looking like he was resisting the urge to massage his temples.

“Were you always this annoying?” he asked. “Or is this just you reacting to the uniqueness of this situation?”

Jessica scowled at the boy.

“My palm is about to react with your face,” she warned.

“Okay, both of you, that’s enough,” their mother cut in finally.

The woman stared at her son, trying, Jessica knew, to find the words to say.

Unlike her late husband, and her children, Priscilla Eze was not a woman who was skilled with words.

It was a fact that she was thankful for on some days, because it meant that her children were articulate enough to verbally defend themselves if they ever needed to, and cursed deeply on most others, because it meant that she often had trouble keeping up with her own children when they talked.

Much like was happening today.

“What does it cost you?” Kenneth asked, looking from his mother to his sister.

“I mean, maybe Jessica is right,” he said. “Maybe I’m delusional. Maybe I really did just have a stroke or a seizure, and this is all a result of brain damage.”

The boy paused, then took a breath, a deeply haunted expression on his face.

“God, I’m actually hoping I have brain damage,” he muttered barely audibly.

He looked back at them, and Jessica felt a twinge of fear grip her heart for a split moment; fear because, in that moment, the expression on Kenneth’s face was too real to be fake…

Even though it had to be.

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It couldn’t not be.

“What does it cost you?” Kenneth asked again. “I’m not some doomsayer making nebulous predictions about the future, I’m giving you a specific time; nine-oh-five. Today. Less than four hours. Worst case scenario is we miss school and you’re late to work.

“What does it really cost you?”

Their mother sighed, and with an expression like she couldn’t believe her own words, she said; “Okay, what do we do? What will happen?”

“Mummy, are you seriously—” Jessica began, but their mother held up a hand.

“Kenneth,” she said, “what do we need to do?”

An expression of profound relief crossed her brother’s face, then he nodded.

“For now, nothing. Just mental preparation. No physical preparation we make will matter when we go to The Arena.”

“The Arena?” Jessica asked dubiously. “I thought you said this was Independence Day? When did it turn to Hunger Games?”

Kenneth stared at her. “This isn’t a joke, Jessica,” he said levelly.

Their mother shot her a stink eye, as though she was the one talking crazy, and Jessica got a little defensive.

“What?” she asked. “He’s the one who can’t get his story straight. First he said alien invasion and now he’s talking about gladiator battles.”

“It’s not an invasion,” Kenneth said immediately. “We’re earthworms to them. You don’t invade earthworms.

“It’s called The Challenge, and The Arena was the… is the first phase. And five billion people died there.”

Kenneth looked at them like he wanted to say more, but, at the last moment, he changed his mind.

“Wait, five billion people died in this arena?” Jessica asked dubiously. “How big is this place?”

“It’s not one place. That’s not how it works. It’s however many places it needs to be to hold all the groups. And each group gets a monster that’s uniquely suited to match the members of that group.

“It’s why people call it The Culling Phase, because they used it as a litmus test to weed out the noncombatants among us. That’s what The Challenge is, our entire species being put through the meat grinder over and over again.

“Some people believe it’s to find the best fighters among us, but that doesn’t make any sense since the whole thing looks like a game show more than boot camp.

“Personally, I think that some intergalactic assholes with too much power decided to Squid Game all of humanity.”

A moment of silence descended on the room as Jessica and her mother tried to parse apart Kenneth’s mini ramble, but before they could, Jessica’s phone, held—and forgotten—in her hand, rang.

She jumped a little, then checked the caller ID.

It was Jane Oghedegbe, Jessica’s best friend, TikTok co-creator, and sister in all but blood.

“Excuse me,” she said, walking outside as she took the call.

“Jessi,” Jane began before Jessica even had the phone fully to her ear, “sorry sorry sorry for waking you up, but please tell me I left my maths notebook at your place, because I can’t find it.”

“Oh, um, don’t worry about it, I was already awake,” Jessica said, before belatedly adding; “And don’t worry about your notebook either, it’s here. It’s in my bag.”

“Oh, thank God.” Jane sighed in relief. “I swear Mr. Peter would have killed me today.”

Mr. Peter was their Maths teacher, and in proper fashion, he was also the strictest teacher in their school. You know, since math trauma alone wasn’t enough motivation for students to fail.

“Don’t worry, he’ll have to find someone else to torment today. You’re safe,” Jessica said, and her friend giggled.

“What are you even doing up by this time?” Jane asked. “I thought you said the only thing that could get you out of bed before six is an alien invasion or a date with Tom Holland.” Jane gasped dramatically. “Wait, is Tom Holland there right now?”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “Yup, he’s in my bed, we just made sweet sweet love.”

Jane gasped again. “Oh my God, you slut. Zendaya will kill you.”

“That’s if the Tomdaya shippers don’t lynch me first.”

The girls laughed again.

In her room now, Jessica closed the door and sat on her bed.

“Something weird happened this morning,” she confessed.

“Weird like how?” Jane asked.

“Weird like my brother had a seizure and now he’s talking about the end of the world,” she said.

“Um… huh?”

“Tell me about it.”

“Wait, is he okay?” Jane asked. “Did you guys take him to the hospital?”

“No, he said there’s no time because the world ends in four hours.”

“Four hours?” Jane asked in surprise. “Huh. But wait, what does that have to do with him going to the hospital? Does he have some sort of bunker he wants you guys to go to?”

“No, that’s the worst part, he said we can’t prepare for it because we’re worms and they’re aliens and—”

“Aliens!?”

“Yeah, aliens. And he said they’re going to take all the humans to some sort of arena and lots of people are going to die.”

“An arena? Like Hunger Games?”

“That’s what I said too.” She sighed. “The whole thing is just crazy.”

And scary, she didn’t need to add.

“Wow, it sounds like you’ve had a special kind of morning,” Jane said.

“Tell me about it.”

“So, is he raving or…”

“No, that’s the worst part, he’s… calm. Seems perfectly rational. If he wasn’t…” Jessica waved a hand wildly, and despite having only audio to work with, Jane interpreted it perfectly.

“…talking about little green men?” she asked.

“Exactly! It would be almost weird how mature he’s being,” she finished.

Jane said nothing for a moment, then she let out a breath.

“Okay, look, clearly you need backup,” Jane said. “So I’ll go get ready and come over to your place. Try to keep your brother from wearing his underwear on his head or something before I get there okay?”

Jessica laughed.

“No promises,” she said and hung up.