Ethan’s return to school felt like walking into enemy territory. The sounds of slamming lockers, students chattering, and the occasional laugh filled the air, but it all felt off—too bright, too alive. These were echoes of a world that wouldn’t last much longer.

As he moved through the hallways, he felt the familiar weight of eyes on him. Whispers followed him like shadows, laced with mocking tones.

“Look at him—what’s with the attitude lately?”“Bet Jake’s gonna shut him down today.”

Ethan ignored them, his mind focused on his plan. But when he entered math class, he made the mistake of glancing toward Sarah Matthews. She sat near the window, absentmindedly twirling a pen while her friends joked around her. Her laugh rang out, light and carefree.

Ethan’s stomach twisted. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look away. He couldn’t afford distractions. Not her. Not the person who, in another timeline, he had watched sobbing in the ruins of their school when it was too late to save anyone.

“Ethan,” the teacher’s voice broke his focus, “do you know the answer?”

He blinked, realizing the entire class was staring at him. He glanced at the board, where a complicated equation stared back at him.

“Uh, yeah. It’s...” He rattled off the solution quickly, earning a raised eyebrow from the teacher.

“Well, maybe you should pay more attention if you’re going to surprise us with actual answers,” she said dryly.

The class chuckled, and Ethan returned to his notebook, flipping to the page filled with his sketches of survival plans. He couldn’t focus on algebra when the countdown to the apocalypse loomed.

Gym class was the last place Ethan wanted to be, especially with Jake Cooper and his pack of jocks in the same room. The sound of sneakers squeaking on the gym floor and the thud of basketballs echoed around him as he sat on the bench, lacing his shoes.

"Hey, Graves," Jake’s voice cut through the noise. Ethan didn’t bother looking up. "What’s with the tough-guy act lately? Think you’re better than us?"

Ethan tied his laces tighter, keeping his voice calm. "I don’t think about you at all, Jake."

The remark drew an audible "ooh" from one of Jake’s friends. Jake stepped closer, his shadow falling over Ethan. "You’ve got a smart mouth for someone who barely passes his classes."

Ethan stood, meeting Jake’s glare head-on. "What do you want, Jake? You’ve got about two seconds to say it before I walk away."

Jake grabbed his arm, but Ethan moved instinctively, twisting out of his grip and shoving him back. Jake stumbled, his eyes wide with shock. The room went silent as everyone stopped what they were doing to watch.

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"Touch me again, and you’ll regret it," Ethan said, his voice low and steady.

Jake’s face flushed with anger, but he didn’t make another move. For the first time, Ethan saw hesitation in his eyes. He didn’t wait for a response. He turned and walked out of the locker room, leaving Jake fuming behind him.

That evening, Ethan met Mason and Kyle at the abandoned lot. The setting sun cast long shadows across the overgrown space, the cool air carrying the faint scent of rust and dirt.

Kyle leaned against a broken fence, twirling a metal baseball bat. "Alright, Graves. What’s today’s doomsday prep?"

"Combat drills," Ethan said, tossing a collapsible baton to him. "And, Mason, I want you to work on an early-warning system. Think traps, alarms—anything that can slow something down."

Mason smirked, hoisting his backpack onto a rickety table. "You know, I’m starting to think you just want me to blow stuff up."

"Not yet," Ethan replied, cracking a faint smile. "Let’s not attract attention."

The training started rough. Kyle’s swings with the baton were too wide, leaving him open to counterattacks. Ethan stepped in, correcting his stance, guiding him through the motions.

"Keep it tight," Ethan instructed, stepping back. "Don’t waste movement. In a fight, every second counts."

Kyle grumbled but adjusted his form. After a few rounds, he started landing clean hits on the dummy Mason had rigged together from old tires and metal scraps.

Mason, meanwhile, had set up a tripwire using fishing line and soda cans. When triggered, it sent a loud clatter echoing across the lot.

"Crude, but effective," Mason said, grinning.

Ethan nodded. "Good work. We’ll refine it later."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the lot in shadows, Ethan looked at his friends—Mason covered in grease and Kyle drenched in sweat. They were far from ready, but they were trying.

Ethan knew they needed more than just training—they needed gear. Over the next week, he scoured local stores and pawnshops, spending every dime he had saved.

At the hardware store, he loaded a cart with duct tape, rope, nails, and tarps. The cashier gave him an odd look but said nothing.

At the pawnshop, he picked up a crowbar, a hunting knife, and a machete. The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow. "Going on an adventure?"

"You could say that," Ethan replied, sliding over the cash.

The most crucial haul came from a camping supply store. With Kyle’s connection, they managed to score tents, water filters, and portable stoves. They stashed everything in Mason’s garage, lining the walls with shelves Mason had built.

Kyle frowned as he stacked cans of food on a shelf. "You’re really serious about this, huh?"

Ethan nodded. "We’re not even close to ready yet."

Ethan spotted the first signs outside the school one morning. A flock of crows perched on the roof, their glossy black feathers shimmering unnaturally in the sunlight.

"You seeing this?" Mason asked, snapping a picture on his phone.

Ethan’s jaw tightened. "Yeah. It’s starting."

A news report on a local family’s dog caught Mason’s attention. The footage showed the dog snapping and lunging at its owners, its eyes glowing faintly.

Mason showed Ethan the clip on his phone. "This is exactly what you were talking about, isn’t it?"

Ethan nodded grimly. "We need to move faster."

Mason managed to extract the core from the dog Ethan had killed. The faintly glowing object pulsed with energy, its surface warm to the touch."It’s like concentrated power," Mason said, holding it up. "If we figure out how to use this—"

"We’ll have an advantage," Ethan said, cutting him off. "But it’s dangerous. Be careful."

Time Until Cataclysm: 258 Days, 6 Hours, 12 Minutes.