“Ibrahim, can you at least pretend to pay attention?”

Samson tried to reach out and snatch his brother’s phone away, but Ibrahim evaded his grasp.

“I’m listening!”

“What was the last thing I said?”

“You asked me to pay attention.”

“Before that,” Samson snapped. He gestured to the computer science textbooks in front of them. “You’re not even on the same page as me.”

“It’s all diagrams anyway, I already know this stuff,” Ibrahim said.

“Then why’d you ask me to study with you?”

“Because you need my help, not the other way around,” Ibrahim said. Samson could only roll his eyes. He’d been getting better grades than Ibrahim all year, and they both knew it. He slammed his textbook shut and packed it up.

“Whatever, Ibs,” Samson grunted. “Let me know when you’re done texting a girl you just met.”

“Hey, I’ve known Casey for a while now-”

“Are you kidding me?” Samson snapped. “That was supposed to be a joke!”

“Uh.”

“At least tell me it’s just one chick and not you trying to two time people again.”

“I told you I don’t do that anymore,” Ibrahim said, unconvincingly. Samson sighed and headed for the door. Right up until the door started heading for him.

“Ibrahim!”

A young brunette woman forced her way into the dorm with such force she barely noticed the door slamming right into Samson’s face and knocking him aside.

“Oh shit.”

“Casey? Seriously? I told you-”

“Hey can this wait?” Ibrahim asked.

“No, you don’t get to weasel your way out of-”

“Yeah yeah I’m a bad person whatever,” Ibrahim said. “But I think you just broke my brother’s nose.”

----------------------------------------

“And it turns out he was right,” Samson said. His voice came through strained and nasally thanks to his shattered nose, and the bandage keeping pressure on it.

“Shit. You need anything?”

“I already got the nurses to look after it, all the magic mumbo jumbo,” Samson mumbled. “It should heal up pretty fast. Three days, they said.”

Samson did the math and let out a deep sigh.

“Three class days.”

“Ouch. So more like six for you.”

While the time loops provided a chance to get injured without consequence, they also doubled up the consequences of getting injured at the wrong time. Samson would have to live every day with a broken nose twice.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and die early,” Samson grumbled. Everyone else chose not to address that.

“We’ll do whatever we can to help, of course,” Lee said. “Just say the word.”

“I’ll be fine, you guys, it’s a nose,” Samson said. “I don’t have a good sense of smell anyway.”

“Still hurts,” Vell said. Samson nodded. It really did hurt. Just squinting the wrong way made his entire face ache sometimes, but he was trying to put on a brave face. A few days ago Lee had gotten her leg gnawed off by a horde of ravenous shrimp and she’d kept on giving orders and advice right up until she passed out. He couldn’t sit here and whine about a broken nose.

“It’s cool. Besides, if I get help from you, I lose an excuse to guilt trip Ibs into doing whatever I say.”

While he’d been in the medical room last night, Samson had jokingly suggested that Ibrahim better study while he was getting treated. It had been a sarcastic jab at the time, but Samson had returned to find Ibrahim’s notebook filled with pages and pages of meticulous notes. Apparently guilt made for good motivation.

“Hell yeah brother, play that victim card,” Harley said.

“You know it,” Samson said. “I’m going to try and get him to write an essay he’s been stalling. Next time. Since it’s the first loop I’m just going to make him get me a milkshake.”

He grabbed his phone to start guilt-tripping via text and headed out to relax. If he had to live through several loops of this broken nose, he was going to do it by chilling in his dorm with a cold drink in hand. At least until the world started exploding. World exploding took precedence over broken nose.

As he waited for the world to end, Samson laid back in bed, popped some ibuprofen, and turned on some music. He had a movie or two he wanted to watch, but staring at a screen too long made his eyes face hurt.

“Hey, Samson, you here?”

“I’m here, Ibs.”

Ibrahim walked into the room and awkward set a chocolate shake down on Samson’s bedside table. Samson immediately took a sip. He didn’t even like milkshakes that much, but an ice cold drink helped sooth his shattered face.

“You doing good, Sammie?”

“I’ve been better,” Samson said. He’d also been worse. Much, much worse. But Ibrahim didn’t need to know about the time he’d been dissolved in acid.

“Good. Good. So, uh, you need anything?”

“I need my nose back, but I don’t think you can pull that off,” Samson said. He allowed himself to be a little pettier than usual, since this was the first loop.

“Wish I could,” Ibrahim said. “Sorry.”

Samson sighed. The first loop could only excuse so much pettiness.

“It’s not your fault that chick slammed a door in my face.”

“It is my fault she was slamming doors,” Ibrahim said. “I’ve been pissing people off left and right. Wish it didn’t take you getting hurt for me to see that.”

“Yeah, I would’ve appreciated that too. But here we are. What are you going to do about it?”

“Well, maybe we can finally have a sane conversation about your insane friends.”

“Come on man,” Samson grunted. The exasperated tone hurt his nose, but he had to properly express his frustration. “You don’t need to bring them into everything.”

“They put themselves in everything!”

“They do-”

The door to Samson’s door exploded into a shower of splinters as Kim cannonballed her metal body right through it.

“Samson! I need you to rip my brain out!”

Ibrahim brushed some splinters off his shoulder and looked at his brother.

“They do,” Samson said. “Like I was saying. They do.”

The attempted recovery flopped all around. Kim didn’t even know what they were talking about, but she knew Samson was trying to cover his ass and doing a bad job of it. They had bigger problems to deal with, though. Kim turned around and ripped a metal plate off her own backside, just above her hips.

“Reach in there and rip out the blue computer chip with the tubes attached,” Kim commanded. “Now!”

“Why am I-”

“Just do it!”

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

The LED’s in Kim’s face flashed red, which always meant she was angry, so Samson sprang into action. He spotted the offending chip inside Kim and reached in to grab it and rip it out, carefully avoiding other components as he did so. Her body jerked slightly as the bit of hardware was removed, but she quickly recovered and gave a digital sigh of relief.

“Thanks, Samson. Now quick, break it.”

Samson didn’t bother asking questions this time, and he threw the chip to the ground and stomped on it. Once it was nothing more than silicon dust and loose wires, Kim finally dared to turn around.

“Thanks.”

“What the hell was that about?” Samson asked. Millions of nightmare scenarios raced through his wounded head all at once. “What part of your brain did I just rip out?”

“My olfactory processors.”

“Your- I just ripped out your nose?”

Samson looked down at the shattered scent circuits and felt a sympathetic twinge in his own nose.

“Yeah, it’s wild,” Kim said. “Long story, but it turns out it’s a great day to have a broken nose. Speaking of, hey Ibrahim, have you smelled anything really good lately?”

She had only recently noticed Ibrahim’s presence in the room, and he took a cautious step back as her digital eyes turned to him.

“No, why?”

“Oh good. Sorry, explanations later, punching first.”

Punching came so much first that Ibrahim didn’t even get to protest that punching. Kim walloped him right in the nose, knocking him off his feet and into the nearby wall.

“Kim! What the hell?”

“I needed to break his nose so he can’t smell,” Kim explained. “There’s some kind of weird flower that smells so good it makes everybody crazy.”

“Oh. I guess our noses don’t have off switches, yeah,” Samson said.

“I just barely caught a whiff before I turned off my nose and ran here,” Kim explained. “I was still so tempted to smell it again I had to get my smell sensors ripped out.”

“Could you have explained all that before you punched me?” Ibrahim said. “I’d still hate it, but a little less.”

“Don’t care,” Kim said. She didn’t like Ibrahim to begin with, and in her mind that punch was long overdue. “We’re in a hurry. Some of those smell-crazy freaks were running after me.”

“Smell-crazy?”

“I’m bad at naming things,” Kim said. “They smelled the thing and now they’re crazy about it, you know how this works, Samson.”

Unfortunately, he did. People on campus got crazed very easily. Though Samson thought he was mentally prepared, this particular situation had a new and upsetting twist.

“Kim! Where’d you go?”

“Oh shit,” Samson said. He instinctively dropped his voice to a whisper. “Is that Harley?”

Kim nodded.

“Is she-”

Kim nodded again.

“Oh fuck,” Samson said. “What about-”

“Hawke, Lee, and Vell too, yeah,” Kim said. Samson bit his tongue. When things got insane, Samson usually took comfort in the fact that the veteran loopers would have a handle on things. They were far from sane themselves, but they were at least crazy in a productive direction. Samson didn’t want to be on the other end of that crazy.

“Just play it cool,” Kim said. “They might be a little amped up on weird smells right now, but they’re still themselves. Just play it cool.”

This time it was Samson’s turn to nod. He held his breath and tried to stay silent as he and Kim pressed their backs to the wall and hoped Harley would pass them by.

“Why the hell are you guys bothering to hide?” Ibrahim asked.

“Well obviously, even if they’re ‘chill’ brainwashed, they’re still brainwashed,” Kim said. “Keep it down!”

“No, I get that,” Ibrahim said. “It’s just very obvious where you are considering you Kool-Aid Man’d through the door!”

He pointed at the scattering of wood splints and shrapnel on the floor. Kim summoned up two pink circles on her digital face to blush with shame.

“Oh, yeah.”

The very distinct silhouette of Harley cast a shadow on the splinters of wood.

“Hey, Kim,” Harley said. “I know you’re in there. There’s only like three people on campus who can bust through a door like this.”

Samson would spend the rest of the day wondering who the other two were, but he had other priorities right now. Knowing they’d been caught, Kim switched gears from stealth to deception.

“Right over here, Harley,” she said. “I was just grabbing Samson and Ibrahim.”

She stepped forward and made sure to put her foot over the shattered remnants of her olfactory sensors, so Harley wouldn’t suspect she’d destroyed it. Harley stepped into the room, took a quick look around, and focused on Ibrahim.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Little brotherly fight,” Ibrahim mumbled. “I pissed Samson off about the whole broken nose thing.”

“Yeah, I figured he could have a taste,” Samson said. He wasn’t quite as good at lying as his brother, but he managed. “See how he likes it.”

“Wow, you guys have the worst timing,” Harley said. “The botany guys made the best smelling flower ever. Once you get the blood out of your sinuses you should come smell it!”

“Yeah, for sure,” Samson said. “Just at face value, though, isn’t a plant that brainwashes people like, daily apocalypse material?”

“The plant isn’t brainwashing anybody, Samson,” Harley scoffed. “Besides, apocalypses are bad things, and this flower is the best thing that’s ever happened. God, now I need to go smell it again. Later losers!”

Harley turned around and sped off as fast as she could. Samson was impressed at just how fast she bailed.

“Are we sure it’s not brainwashing anyone?”

“Pretty sure,” Kim said. “I only smelled a little bit but holy shit, it does smell awesome. I’m kind of angry at myself for having you rip my nose sensor out.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Samson said. “Come on Ibs, shove some tissues up your nose and let’s figure this shit out.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Ibrahim grumbled. He was still trying and failing to staunch his bloody nose, and he left a little trail of red droplets all the way to the flower.

----------------------------------------

“As far as cults go, this one is unusually nice.”

The irresistible fragrance of the Power Flower (as Kim had badly named it) had naturally drawn the entire student body towards it, and they had, as the usually did, formed a cult around it. Unlike most cults, this one was almost entirely peaceful. The pleasant aroma of the Power Flower had everyone in such a good mood they didn’t even want to do any human sacrifice. All the cultists were lounging around making flower crowns or other floral art, to celebrate their new object of obsession. The flower itself was at the center of it all, with blue petals swaying in the breeze as dozens of people gathered around it in turns, taking deep breaths of the heavenly aroma before moving on to give someone else a turn.

“It’s almost creepier than the murder,” Kim whispered. The fact that nobody was technically being mind controlled made it much weirder that they were just lounging around, singing songs, and being happy.

“What are you people fucking talking about?” Ibrahim said. “Have you seen cults before?”

“We watch a lot of documentaries,” Samson said. “The cult ones.”

“They’re all over the place. Netflix and stuff,” Kim added.

Ibrahim tried to glare suspiciously at the two of them, but glaring hurt his face. He settled for a disgruntled sigh and followed along.

“So, if everything here is so nice,” Ibrahim said. “What exactly are we doing here? What’s the goal?”

“Well, we have to get rid of the flower,” Kim said.

“Why?” Ibrahim said. “Seems like it’s just making everybody happy.”

He pointed to Lee, who was relaxing and eating lunch near the Flower, and being serenaded by a group of musicians. She had a bigger smile on her face than Ibrahim had ever seen.

“In the short term, yes, everybody is having a great time,” Kim said. “You’ve got to think about the long term for a second. Hold on a second. Hey Freddy!”

Freddy wandered away from a device he was working on, and a few flower petals dislodged themselves from his tangle of red hair as he walked.

“What’s up?”

“What’s that machine you’re working on, there?”

“It’s for scent dispersal,” Freddy said. “So we don’t all have to crowd around the flower. Soon, everybody will be able to smell it all at once!”

“Right, and once you’re done, then you can get back to all your other important projects, like cold fusion?”

“Maybe if I have time after helping Skye and the other geneticists clone the flower,” Freddy said. “Oh, and then distributing the flower clones. And working on cultivation methods, perfecting watering schedule, efficient fertilizer...Oh, and I need to calculate ideal soil composition!”

The revelation caused Freddy to immediately lose interest in the conversation and dash off to his flower-related work. Kim gestured to him as he ran away.

‘That answer your question, champ?” Kim asked. “All these geniuses who were going to make the world a better place are now just working on gardening.”

It would be a slow apocalypse, but an inevitable one, as all the brilliant geneticists who should’ve been curing cancer chose to focus on horticulture instead. Also, it was just weird. Everyone was in an unnervingly good mood. The unnatural good cheer was so overriding that Harley was talking to Michaela Watkins, and looking genuinely happy to do so. That was just wrong.

“I’m going to the botany lab to see if I can get any info on how all this started,” Kim said. “You guys ask around and see what you can learn about the flower.”

Kim headed for the labs, leaving the twins to their own devices. That was a mistake, as Ibrahim’s device consisted of sitting down and helping himself to some of the snacks on offer.

“Ibrahim, come on,” Samson said. “We have to figure this out.”

“I already figured it out,” Ibrahim said. “Your robot friend wants to ruin everyone’s day for no reason. No thanks.”

“You heard Freddy!”

“I’m sorry your pet fuzzball doesn’t want to do his homework anymore, I just don’t really see how that’s a problem!”

“Do you have any sense of responsibility, Ibrahim?” Samson snapped. “Can you not look past your own nose and see that there are going to be fucking consequences for this stuff?”

“Oh don’t get all sanctimonious,” Ibrahim countered. “You sound like mom.”

“I’m sorry I’m trying to get you to care about somebody other than yourself for a change.”

At that point, Ibrahim became keenly aware of the fact that all eyes were on them. Their argument was at harsh odds with the laid-back joy of everyone around them.

“Relax, Sammie,” Ibrahim said. “Even your crazy friends are chilling. They know this is no big deal.”

“He’s right, Samson, need to relax,” Vell said. He was a short distance away, lounging with a drink in one hand and his other arm around Skye’s shoulder. “Maybe we can find something to fix your nose, then you can see what all the fuss is about.”

“Yeah,” Skye agreed. “Take a sniff, have a snack, relax.”

“I don’t want to smell your fucking flower,” Samson said. He was so mad his nose was bleeding again. “I don’t want a snack, I don’t want to relax, I want a brother who isn’t a useless piece of shit!”

Skye dropped the cracker she was holding as the room came to a halt. The conflict’s continued escalation was stunning the joyous crowd around them. Despite not being high on flower power, Ibrahim looked just as stunned.

“Alright. Fine,” Ibrahim said, through clenched teeth. “You want me to do something useful?”

Ibrahim stood up and made a beeline for the Power Flower.

“Oh shit,” Samson said. He ran after his brother. “Not that, not that, not that!”

Ibrahim’s many failings worked to his advantage this time. A lifetime of running from enough consequences had made him a much better sprinter than his twin. Ibrahim elbowed past the crowd of flower-drunk hippies and grabbed the flower pot the Power Flower was in.

“Here you go!”

Ibrahim spiked the pot into the ground, shattering the ceramic and crushing the flower. For good measure, he stomped on the scattered blue petals a few times.

“There you go, flower problem solved.”

Samson just stared at the wreckage of the flower -and at the crowd rapidly closing in around Ibrahim.

“You fucking idiot.”