“I know what I say is hard to believe! In my world, we found it hard to believe! We were blind! We were bitter! We thought ourselves beyond saving! Above any outsiders' help! Alone in an uncaring void! And we were wrong!"

The apostle’s boots tap along the court, pacing the front row. She stares down on them through black eyes, with no whites. Her head is full of hair-like tendrils, that whisper as they drift in her wake. Her skin is the green of the sea, and a glow seems to spread through the air around her, motes of energy flickering into brief constellations: afterimages of otherworldly powers kept in check, brightest when one isn’t paying attention.

"My people, on my world- like many peoples out there!- needed help! A guiding hand, to prevent us from destroying ourselves! To help us weather the ruination of time! To understand the mysteries of the universe! The purpose of our lives! Our place! Our beginning...” She stops, with her hands clasped, head high. “Our end…”

Her ivory robes sway around an armor of pale granite. At her side is a four foot piece of alien metal, hidden by a silver sheath: a strange sight on a college campus, but one everyone is becoming more and more familiar with. Her voice is the crack of dawn, bright and strong. Her smile is sunshine, washing through the crowd.

"What the Schema gave us was freedom. It showed us the lessons learned by a thousand civilizations. It brought us the technologies of countless worlds. It made us great! And it took nothing away! We are still ourselves! Unique, and irreplaceable. One people among a powerful collective. A people who have stayed true to themselves throughout eons!"

Her eyes shine with something deep and unfathomable. For a moment, she looks light enough on her feet, that she could rise from the court and pass through the ceiling. Even the strip lights above seem brighter. The auditorium fills with heavy silence. Cell phones clatter to the ground, showing darkness, but recording the sound and fury of an outsider who might be an angel, might be their salvation.

"I know how difficult it is for nascent civilization to find peace and prosperity! I know how hard it is for you not to collapse and destroy yourselves each and every day! It is not your fault! It is the curse of all sentients to grow before we are ready, and be unprepared for the world we face! But know this, humans! You are not alone! And the universe will not watch you fall!”

Not a student breathes. Not a member of the faculty blinks. Not a heart beats out of sync. Until the alien finally speaks again.

“We. Will. Not. Let. You. Fail!”

***

The lights of the dorm room are off. Candles burn instead, casting shadows across their faces, and barely enough light to play cards by, but it’s comfortable. Lo-Fi leaks from the speakers. The usual suspects sit in suspended animation. Waiting.

“You wanna move?” One can imagine the sound of glasses being adjusted, while Arthur stares over his favorite horn rims.

“Uh… fold! I was just thinking…”

“Mm?” Cards shuffle. Sleaves rustle while they drag across the tabletop.

“I was thinking. That apostle.” Lola drums her fingers, biting her lips. “The closer this integration thing gets, the more she seems… I don’t know.”

“Alien?”

“More than that. Like… transcendent, you know? Supernatural?”

“Super extra, more like it.” Caesar brings his cards up to hide his face, then reaches out to toss a chip on the table. It rolls on its side, the way coins do, in smaller and smaller circles, until it falls and wobbles its way into silence. “Raise- I swear she came a few times up there. Definitely OD’d on the Kool-Aid.”

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“You don’t believe?” Lola sounds shocked.

“Fold.” Arthur sighs. “I mean, we can see that she believes. I’ll withhold judgement until the day. When shit goes down, doubts don’t matter.”

“You’ve gotta be- what about the magic?! The ships?! All the proof we can all see?!”

“First of all,” Caesar tosses in another chip. “Raise. Second, this shit is fucking bullshit!”

“Dude-”

“Fuckin’ election’s around the corner; now all of a sudden, some shit’s popped up to drag us way from the polls. Tch!” He slams his hand on the table hard enough to make the chips jump. “Mariah! Are you gonna go?!”

“Easy buddy.” Lola pokes his frowning forehead, wiggles her finger like she’s wiping the wrinkles away. Caesar swats the hand, so she reaches over to grab my arm instead. “What do you think? Alien Armageddon or naw?”

I shrug. Then I hold my cards out for Caesar to see.

“Read ‘em…”

“Fuck!”

“And weep.”

***

That night, I lay on twisted sheets. Sweating a little, but too lazy to turn the A/C up, or the fan on. Too lazy to open the window or get something cold to drink. Just… tired.

Ever since the news of this otherworldly intervention went from viral to serious, we’ve been sleeping in the same dorm. My old roommate moved back home when the panic came and went. I invited Lola to share my bed, agreed to put up with Caesar and his boyfriend for the time being.

It’s hard not to do whatever you can to feel more secure these days. People are talking about aliens and angels. Heaven and hell. Heroes and monsters. Magic and fights to the death. I’ve been… trying to ignore it. But it’s all anyone talks about. It’s all I can do not to run off and bury my head in the ground.

Can’t I just study for finals? Can’t I just spite my ex? Eat terrible food? Drink myself to death? Normal shit. Normal problems. Normal life, like it was before…

But no. The other day, Caesar asked if he should buy a gun. Arthur got his hands on a tiny little generator somewhere, and I’ve been terrified of an RA walking in to find gas cannisters between the washing machine and the wall ever since. Lola’s tackling this like she’s enrolling all over again: practicing everything from Krav Maga to basket-weaving.

The trio even built a doomsday survival kit.

Me? I’ve been useless. I guess I brought us together, but… how can they take it so seriously? So calmly? Aren’t they even a little bit scared? Why am I the only one mourning the life I’m living now, worried about what comes tomorrow? The only one awake, while everyone else sleeps like babies…

I know I’m kind of a worrier, but nowadays it seems like I’m the only one in the world not caught in this fantasy. If apostles start telling people to kill themselves for integration, I’m pretty sure overpopulation becomes a thing of the past.

And isn’t that a terrifying thought?

But I can’t sit here staring at the ceiling all night.

The alarm clock: 3:26.

Even the assholes in the parking lot and the bars around the block are sleeping now. The quiet is making me restless, thinking in pointless circles.

I drag myself up, throwing off Lola’s stifling arm and pulling at my sweaty shirt. I open and close the door quietly, then pad across the living room. My soles stick on the kitchen floor: have to wash that soon. I open the freezer, carefully pull ice out, then shut it softly, leaning on the fridge and sliding to the ground.

I have a headache now; the chewing doesn’t help. But ice is so good. I’m satisfied, crunching down. It melts in my palm. The quiet hum of the refrigerator calms me. I’m content to close my eyes and imagine myself falling asleep…

…

…

I’m jolted awake. The kitchen light is on and bright enough to make me squint. Caesar’s head looms huge as he leans closer, shaking my shoulder.

“What?! What?!” I push his hand away. To the side, I hear a clinking sound: Lola, chugging a glass of water like she’s dying of thirst.

“Wake up!”

“I’m awake, for Christ sake!”

I’m lying on my side against the tiles, a shiny slick of water spreading from a lonely chip of melting ice. Caesar shakes me again.

“I’m up!” I sit up with some struggle, and a long-winded sigh. Still so tired. “What the heck is-”

“It’s happening.” Arthur stands from where he was leaned against the counter, pushing his glasses up. I see blocks of light reflected in the lenses, until he turns his phone to me. He stands there waiting, while the others watch.

Even as I rise to my feet, I feel my stomach falling out. Pins and needles race up my legs, goosebumps up my arms. A few unsteady steps and I’m squinting at the bright screen. It’s not a blog post or an article. Not a streamer. It’s national television. The real deal: a whole ass reporter, standing at the edge of a precipitous drop, before some kind of… monolith. One of the nodes we were warned of; looks like it came down in a park in… Detroit. A monumental structure, even standing at the bottom of a crater.

It takes me a while to make out the banner scrolling underneath the scene.

“Initialization… nearly… 1… %. Almost 1%.”

“And when it hits one?” Lola asks.

We all share looks. College students caught in a historic moment no one could have predicted months ago. Waiting for the world to change. Watching it happen while we sweat.

I manage to gather enough composure to respond. My voice shakes a little, but it’s much calmer than my heart.

“I guess it begins,” I say.

For better or worse.