Greg lightly tapped his pencil against the ever blank page of his notebook, placed there in the vain hope that eventually his Calculus class would move beyond high school Algebra, as the professor launched into his second example problem of the class. He sighed, glancing at the clock on the wall, which currently read 12:34:24, before shooting a glare at the culprit responsible for the snail-like pace this class had been preceding at. The culprit, sitting in the middle of the front row of the class in his signature orange hoodie, raised his hand yet again to further berate the professor with his less than competent grasp of the subject, prompting a silent groan to pass through the class. Greg fiddled with his pencil, trying his hardest to resist the urge to chuck it at the dude's head. He glanced back at the clock just in time to watch it tick to 12:34:59.

*Fuck! Missed it again.* Greg groaned internally. Why was it so hard to catch the clock at 12:34:56?

Eventually the professor managed to disentangle himself from Mr. I-think-I-know-it-all long enough to finish the problem just before the clock hit 12:50. "Alright class, that's it for today. Remember homework is due on Monday and enjoy your weekend." He announced, ending the class.

"Ugh, finally. You headed to lunch?" Casey asked from the desk beside Greg.

"Yup. Time to get some garbage cafeteria food then head back to the dorm." Greg answered.

"Lucky. I still have one more class and then a lab after lunch." Casey sighed as she packed up her bag.

"Hey, that's your own fault. Why would you pile everything on Friday? Wednesday is the best day to pile shit up." Greg responded as he led the way out of the class and to the cafeteria.

"It's not my fault! My stupid adviser wouldn't get back to me until the last goddamn minute and all the good classes were full!" Casey complained.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on, I want to get there before Victor." Greg urged her on, picking up the pace.

"Why?" Casey asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Cause when Victor gets there first he always gets a table by the doors, which means I have to walk clear across the room to refill my soda." Greg explained as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"You could just ask him to grab a table closer to the soda fountain." Casey commented, rolling her eyes.

Greg paused. "But then he'd win."

"It is honestly hard to tell you two are friends sometimes." Casey sighed.

"Is it really a friendship without a little bit of hate?" Greg asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What? Yes! I refuse to accept the idea that friendship requires hate! Wait… does that mean you hate me?" Casey asked, shooting him a suspicious glare.

"Nah, but we're more like… acquaintances." Greg replied, suppressing a grin.

"Oh, fuck you." Casey retorted, rolling her eyes and slapping Greg on the shoulder, causing him to burst out laughing.

"See! There's the hate. Integral part of any friendship." Greg grinned as they walked into the cafeteria.

"Still not buying it." Casey replied, shaking her head.

They arrived at the cafeteria and proceeded to gather up their meals from the meager selection offered. Honestly, Greg enjoyed the food here, but everyone shit on it so hard, he just went along with it. It was simple food, fried and greasy. What wasn't there to like? Greg beat Casey into the dining room and groaned as he saw a man waving him down from across the room.

"How's it going, Victor." Greg sighed as he sat down, shooting a forlorn glance towards the distant soda fountain.

"Eh, not bad. Done with classes for the day, which is nice, but no plans for the weekend, which is boring." Victor responded.

"That's not so bad. You can always read or watch tv. Plus it gives you time to catch up on homework and study." Greg offered.

"What kind of person would do homework or study?" Victor asked, an expression of extreme disgust on his face.

"I don't know, someone who wants to get higher than a C?" Greg answered, rolling his eyes.

"Awful. Thank god I don't have to deal with that." Victor sighed in relief.

"Even if you can ace the tests without it, homework is still 20% of your grade." Greg sighed. "Your GPA is going to screw you someday."

"Eh, probably, but homework is a scam and I refuse to put myself through such torture." Victor countered with a shrug.

"Hey Victor!" Casey exclaimed as she took the seat next to Greg.

"Yo." Victor greeted her, lifting his cup towards her, before taking a sip.

"So, lemme ask, do you hate Greg?"

"Yeah? Why else would I always grab the table furthest from the soda fountain. I mean, look at him. Total piece of shit." Victor responded, grinning.

"Right back at you buddy." Greg replied with a grin of his own.

"I'm not your buddy, guy." Victor immediately shot back, causing them both to chuckle and Casey to groan. "So, do you have any plans for the weekend?" Victor asked Casey.

"Mhmm. Me and Kaitlyn are going on our third date!" Casey replied excitedly.

"Oh really? Guess that means you'll have to put out. Or she will… how does that work?" Victor asked in what appeared to be genuine confusion.

"Well, neither of us is a slimy, jerk dude, so neither of us have to put out." Casey retorted.

"Well then what's the point!" Victor threw up his hands in mock exasperation.

Casey just rolled her eyes and turned to Greg. "How about you? Do you have any plans?"

"He doesn't." Victor answered before Greg could.

"How do you know?" Casey asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Because I don't have plans, and the only way Greg is going to leave the dorm room is if I drag him out." Victor explained.

"I'd argue, but he's not exactly wrong." Greg agreed.

"Seriously?" Casey asked with an incredulous look.

"What? I like to read, play games, and watch tv… that's pretty much it." Greg replied with a shrug.

"You don't like parties?" Casey asked.

"Eh, I usually just end up sitting somewhere by myself, bored." Greg explained.

"Shopping?" Casey offered.

"No… plus I'm poor." Greg sighed.

Casey frowned thoughtfully. "Some kind of sport?"

"Boring and sweaty, no thank you." Greg stuck his tongue out with a disgusted expression.

Casey rolled her eyes. "How about concerts?"

"Way too loud, way too crowded, you can barely see the guys playing, and the music sounds better when I play it on my phone." Greg finished, listing the reasons off on his fingers.

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"I actually agree with him on that one." Victor chimed in.

"Good lord, how are you ever going to find a girlfriend if you never leave your damn room?!?" Casey exclaimed in exasperation.

"I'm not certain, but I'm pretty sure the only way I'm ever going to get a girlfriend is if she finds me." Greg answered with a shrug.

Casey gave him a weird look. "How is that even possible?"

"Through God, all things are possible." Greg declared in mock seriousness, prompting Victor to throw an ice cube at him. "Help, Lord! I'm being attacked by a heathen!"

"Hey, I'm only a heathen if I believe in other gods. I'm an atheist, so not a heathen." Victor commented.

"Ah, but atheists believe in themselves, therefore you are a heathen." Greg countered.

Victor paused thoughtfully. "I don't think that's necessarily true, but I do in fact believe in myself, so point."

"Damn straight." Greg nodded, grinning in satisfaction.

They continued to chat and joke around until Casey had to leave for her next class. A little while later Greg and Victor went back to their dorm and settled in for a long boring weekend, which Greg thoroughly enjoyed. Eventually though, Monday rolled around and they had to get back to work. The day wore on until Greg was yet again sitting in calc one, listening to the asshole in the orange hoodie explain why he thought the professor was wrong for the millionth god damn time. He glanced at the clock and watched it tic from 12:34:45 to 12:34:46.

*Alright, just a bit more…* Greg thought as the clock kept approaching 12:34:56. *fifty-three… fifty-four… fifty-five…* and then the world went dark.

*

Greg opened his eyes to a beautiful, though slightly dirty face inches from his own, studying him intently. "Gah!" Greg exclaimed, flinching back. "Who-"

Panic washed over the woman's face as she quickly shoved her hand over Greg's mouth, silencing him. "Shhh!" She warned him, looking around nervously.

Greg was stunned for a moment, looking around to see what everyone else would say about her weird actions, only to notice… there was no one here. In fact, it didn't look like there'd been anyone here for a while now. Dust covered the floor, along with pieces of broken desks and what looked like… bone?!? Greg began to see blood stains as well, his eyes widening. *What the fuck is going on!?!* He thought to himself, beginning to panic slightly. Was this some sort of prank? A little overboard for someone just falling asleep in class, don't you think?!?

Suddenly, the woman dragged him from his desk, shoving him into a deep corner behind a cabinet before pressing herself in as well, trapping Greg against the wall as she peaked around the side. Greg tried to ignore the sensation of a woman pressing herself against his body as, with his mouth now uncovered, he opened it to ask what the fuck was going on, when he froze. From the hallway, there came a low, sinister scraping sound, as if something was dragging a heavy rake made of wood… or maybe bone. Along with the scraping came a heavy panting, not from exhaustion, but anger. The moment the noises appeared, the woman pressed even deeper into the corner, as if she was almost trying to burrow into Greg's skin, but by this point, he was too focused on listening to notice.

After a few tense moments, the noises faded away as whatever was out there continued on its way, causing Greg to let out a sigh of relief. It was at this moment he noticed how tight the woman was pressing herself against him. A bit of color crept into his face as he made a slight cough. The woman immediately whirled on him again, pressing her finger against her lips with a warning glare, before going back to her observation. Greg resisted the urge to groan or sigh as he tried to focus on something other than the rather attractive woman pressed tightly against him.

Greg was busy trying to divide four billion, two hundred and eight million, eight thousand, and five hundred and sixty-nine by forty-two, when the woman finally released him, motioning for him to follow her. Greg opened his mouth to ask a question, and she immediately pressed her finger against her lips again, before moving off. She moved like a ghost, barely making a sound as she crept through the room to a window. Meanwhile, as Greg tried to follow her, every step he took made a scuffing sound, and every now and then he'd step on something, making a light crackle. The noises weren't loud, but in the dead silence around them, they felt deafening. The woman frowned at him, but all he could do was shrug helplessly.

Once Greg arrived, she carefully eased open the window, making as little sound as possible, before slipping outside. Greg tried to follow what she'd done, but he ended up catching his foot on the window sill and tripping, tumbling out and hitting his head. Before he could even make a noise, the woman was on him, covering his mouth with her hand again. She waited a few moments to make sure he was good, before letting him up again, carefully making her way towards the edge of the campus. Greg paused for a moment, before following her. He still wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but things had obviously changed, and this woman seemed to know what she was doing, so he figured he should probably stick with her.

Carefully they picked their way across campus, going through buildings, avoiding hallways and large roads whenever possible. Anywhere someone would normally walk seemed to be taboo for the woman, as she climbed through windows and over walls to get wherever she was going, Greg following as well as he could. Occasionally Greg would catch a glimpse of some creature as they hid, waiting for it to pass by. Whatever these things were, they were definitely dangerous. They looked almost humanoid, but covered in hair or scales. Large, vicious claws and fangs were common, and you could occasionally see spiked tails or talon-like feet. Limbs extended weirdly, some long enough to drag along the ground as the creatures walked. Greg even saw a creature climbing a building where each limb was twice as long as the body, talons piercing into the walls as it traveled multiple stories in just a few moments.

The more Greg saw, the more he wondered just what had happened. He'd just gone unconscious for a moment, and bam! Everything went to shit! He almost wondered if this was even his world, and he hadn't somehow slipped into a creepy, alternate reality. Though… that still wouldn't bode well for him.

After a few hours of carefully making their way across campus, maintaining a level of vigilance that left Greg with a pounding headache, they finally made it out and into a residential district. The woman led him towards one of the houses, slipping in through the back door. "Wait here." She ordered, before heading deeper into the house. Greg waited as she searched the house, looking in each and every crevice, before returning. "All clear. Who are you? What were you doing there?" The woman immediately asked the moment she made sure there was nothing living in the house.

"I'm Greg? I was just in class and then… Everything went dark. Then I woke up with you an inch from my face and… well, you were there, you know." Greg explained. "Who are you? What's going on around here? Why are there all these… monsters walking around?!?"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "You went unconscious?" She asked skeptically, looking him over. “Then where are your mutations?”

Greg frowned. “My what?”

“Your mutations. The physical alterations you'd have to have if you haven't had any food or water in two years, as you claim.” The woman rolled her eyes as if Greg was the one who wasn't making sense.

“I don't- wait, two years?!?” Greg's eyes widened. “That's- that's-” He paused, looking around the dilapidated house. “That's actually pretty believable… Shit, did I time travel or something?” He wondered, scratching his head.

The woman frowned. “You honestly expect me to believe you somehow skipped the last two years?”

“Why would I lie?” Greg shrugged helplessly.

She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, before reaching out towards him. “Give me your hand.”

Greg eyed her skeptically. “Why?”

“Because if you've truly been unconscious for the last two years, then there's something going on with you, and examining your hand is less invasive than your throat or chest.” The woman sighed, gesturing insistently.

“That's- fair, I guess.” Greg muttered, giving her his left hand.

The first thing she did was check his pulse, and… she blinked. “You- don't have a pulse.”

Greg blinked. “Please tell me you're joking.” He groaned, taking his hand back and checking himself, only to find that she was right, he didn't have a pulse! He checked his neck and chest next, and… nothing! “Am- am I dead?!?”

“May I?” The woman gestured for his hand again, which Greg numbly handed over, watching as her own finger sharpened into a boney spike, which she used to prick his finger, causing… Nothing. Greg felt the prick, but when he examined his finger there wasn't even a dot! “Strange…” The woman muttered, her finger changing to look more like a scalpel as she cut into his finger! This time they could see a black… smoke? Well up from the wound as it closed almost as fast as she cut it.

“Ow?” Greg complained hesitantly. The woman gave him an unamused look, before turning back to his hand and slicing a long, deep cut down his finger. “Gah! Hey!” Greg protested, hissing in pain and trying to pull his hand back, but she held it tight, displaying an unnatural strength as she watched his finger heal before her eyes yet again. She went to cut him again, only for Greg to finally manage to wrench his hand away from her. “Stop! Fuck, what is wrong with you?!?”

The woman raised an eyebrow at him. "I was simply testing your ability. You have a rather impressive healing factor."

"Uh… thanks? Wait, hold on, how did you do that with your finger?!?" Greg asked, gesturing at her still sharp finger.

The woman wiggled her finger, changing it from the blade, to a needle, to a tentacle, then back into a finger. "This is my superpower. I'm a shapeshifter."

"Superpower?" Greg muttered incredulously, before pausing and taking a deep breath, refocusing. "Okay, hold on, forget all that. Just… first, who are you?"

"My name is Tessa. I'm a mid-level super associated with the Downtown Clan." Tessa answered, crossing her arms.

"Downtown Clan? Wait, don't answer that." Greg shook his head. There was so much he needed to know, but he needed to focus on the basics first. "What- what happened out there? Why is everything so… broken?"

Tessa fixed him with a hard stare, before uttering two simple words. "The Apocalypse."