Holly got the bed.

We played a back-and-forth game of “who gets it” for a few minutes before I took a pillow and blanket and rolled over on the floor. From there, I immediately fell asleep.

When I woke up, Holly was already out of the room, and sounds were coming from the kitchen. I didn’t really feel like it, but I eventually got up to go see what was happening.

“Oh, hey, Tes,” Holly says, “hope I didn’t wake you. I decided to get some breakfast going, since we’ve gone forever without food. You know, it’s funny: we are three thousand years in the future and they still have gas stoves. I still can’t comprehend the time jump.”

I look at the table. There’s two plates set up, one at each end, both filled with egg and some sort of other meat that looks like a brick of bacon. The notebook and pen sat next to one of the plates, apparently signifying it as mine.

She must have seen my face, because she travels this way. “I haven’t tried any of it yet, partially because I’m a little hesitant, too. The box that the egg was in said it was synthetic, and the meat is vegan bacon, which must be future talk for not actual meat.”

I almost don’t have an appetite anymore. Still, I sit down at the seat where Holly has placed the notebook and pen.

Thank you, I write, for making breakfast. And for mentioning my wrist yesterday.

“Oh, it’s no worries,” she says, reading my terribly sloppy handwriting. “I’m just glad it feels better. But you gotta admit, grabbing a pen and paper was a smart move on my end.”

I nod lightly. At least now I don’t have to play charades for her to understand what I’m saying. Doesn’t make writing any more convenient, though.

“When I’m done eating, I’m gonna hop in the shower and wash all the… well, everything we’ve been through off. Sola stopped by while I was cooking and mentioned going to see the scientists today, so I guess we’ll do that whenever you’re ready.”

I forgot about Aurora. She’s laying contently on a rug in what I assume is the living room. Though she’s not moving, I can imagine her breathing slowly, forcing her little rib cage up and down like a living rabbit would.

How is she? I write.

“Oh, I think she’s fine. She’s been acting a little funky since we got here, but honestly, I don’t blame her. I’m feeling a little jetlagged myself.”

We eat our breakfast in relative silence, the only sounds coming from our forks scraping across our plates. It doesn’t take either of us long to finish with our ravenous appetites, and within fifteen minutes, Holly’s done and headed for the bathroom.

Once again, I’m left mostly alone to deal with my thoughts.

I need this time to process what’s happened within the past twenty-four hours, but at the same time, I’m not sure I want to process anything. Too much has happened. I watched two people die. I saw more dead bodies on the plane. I was chased by hostile ghosts for at least an hour. I’ve traveled three thousand-some years into the future with a robotic rabbit and a classmate I used to despise, and we’re not even on the same planet. It might not even be the same universe.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Yep. I’m done processing. I’m now into panic.

My heart feels like it’s moving physically up my chest and into my mouth with every beat. The nerve endings in my fingers and head go fuzzy, and my throat is suddenly constricted.

Panic attack. Panic attack.

I burst out our front door, my vision blurring, and look for the most wide-open space I can. Then, I sit down on a rock.

It’s no back porch, but I hope it works.

Oh, God. I wanna go home. I can’t do this.

I try running my fingers through my hair, but I’m too shaky to do it effectively.

It’s okay, I keep repeating in my head. No, it’s not. You’ve been thrown into an apocalypse. There’s no way for you to get back home.

“Tes, is that you?”

Sola approaches me from the front, still wearing the same clothes as they were when Holly and I went to sleep.

“You don’t look so hot. Are you having a panic attack right now?”

I can’t even make my eyes look at them. My pupils dart back-and-forth on the ground, bouncing between my feet.

“Well, I’m going to assume that’s a yes. Stay there. I’m going to get Holly.”

A few moments later, Sola comes out of our house with Holly close behind, hastily wrapped in towels. She pauses for only a second before sitting down with me and grabbing my hands. They stop shaking instantly.

After a few more minutes, my heart rate has finally gone down, and my breathing is mostly normal again.

“We’re gonna be all right,” Holly says. “We’re getting this figured out. Today.” I nod, a tear streaking down my cheek.

“I’m going to go get dressed, but I’ll be right back out. Then we’ll go see the scientists.”

I nod again. This is embarrassing.

Sola stands awkwardly beside me while Holly gets changed into real clothes.

“I take it you have anxiety, then,” they say.

I nod my response, keeping eye contact with the floor.

“Well, we probably don’t have your prescription, but I’m sure the pharmacist could whip something up for you in a day or two. Mario’s a good guy. I’m sure he’d help.”

“I’m back,” Holly says, prompting me to look her way. She’s changed into discrete clothing similar to Sola’s, but has tied it higher around her waist. I guess it’s as fashionable as you can get wearing a dusty cloak. In one hand she carries Aurora, who seems uninterested. “Are you ready to go, Tes?”

I slowly get up from my spot, aching a little from the uneven surface, and stand straight.

They both stare at me in a way that could be interpreted as either pity or worry, but I’m not going to entertain either. I give them a thumbs-up.

Per usual, Sola leads the way across the open cave, which is noticeably humid.

“Here we are, the lab.” They gesture to a door in the wall. “Inside, you will find the most logical minds of Omega Centauri. The elders have talked to them about helping with your rabbit, so we’ll see what they can do.”

They open the door and offer to let us go in first. To our left, there’s a set of stairs that goes even further below the surface, but on this level, there’re a lot of tables and scattered mechanical parts. Two men are running around, throwing pieces on a workbench set up directly in the middle of the room.

“Ah, you’re here!” one says, noticing the four of us in the doorway. “Hello, hello. We’ve been told of this day, yes.” The man pulls up a little too close, switching glances between the three of us who time-traveled.

“Why, brother, please do not scare them away yet,” the other says, getting as uncomfortably close.

Judging by the fact that they look and act the same, as well as the second calling the first his brother, I’m inclined to believe they’re twins. The fact somehow makes this more unbearable.

“A fascinating specimen,” the first says, reaching out to touch Aurora. She seems unbothered. “And this thing is alive?”

“She,” Holly corrects, “and yes, Aurora is alive and sentient.”

“Incredible,” the second says, also scooting closer. “Well then, I suppose we should run some basic tests, wouldn’t you agree, brother?”

“I would agree. Please, follow us into the basement.”

Oh, brother.