Vell woke up, brushed his teeth, made his breakfast, and went through his morning routine. Now in his fourth year of looping, Vell had learned to embrace routine wherever he could. He didn’t get much of it. Recently he’d taken to accelerating his morning schedule a bit. It was the only way he could get through breakfast without getting bothered. Case in point, he was just finishing off his cereal when someone knocked at his door. Vell began mentally preparing himself to say no before he even opened the door.

“Hi,” said a complete stranger. “I had some theories about Quenay-”

“No,” Vell said, just like he’d prepared to. He shut the door, and ended up narrowly avoiding slamming it on the stranger’s hand as they shoved their way in.

“Please, I have some proposals you’ll-”

The hand twitched and then disappeared as it was forcibly yanked backwards.

“He said no.”

Vell opened the door all the way, and this time the face he saw was both familiar and welcome. His former roommate and longtime friend Cane had snatched the unwanted visitor by the collar and thrown him away.

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem,” Cane said. Unlike the more courteous Vell, Cane had no problem being dismissive or outright rude when necessary. “Mind if I come in?”

Vell beckoned his friend inside and the two took a seat.

“So what’s got you up this early in the morning anyway?”

“Hanifa wakes up early,” Cane said. Vell nodded in understanding. Cane’s girlfriend had a way of putting him on his best behavior. “And mostly I figured it was the only time you’d be free.”

“You need something?”

“Nah, just wanted to talk,” Cane said. “I’ve barely seen you all year, man.”

“It’s only been a few weeks,” Vell mumbled.

“That’s a long time, man!” Cane said. “Especially for a guy in your situation. You got a lot going on, Vell.”

“I’m handling it,” Vell said. Probably not well, but nobody was dead (permanently) yet, so he was still well within salvageable territory.

“Well if you’re handling it well enough that you’ve got some free time, I’m trying to get some people together tonight,” Cane said. “Already got most of the gang on board, how about you?”

“I mean, I’ll try to be there, but you know how it is with me sometimes,” Vell said. “Text me the details and we’ll see what happens.”

Cane had been hoping for a more firm commitment than that, but he took what he could get. Things did tend to be unpredictable around Vell.

“Alright. Let me know if you ever need a hand with any of this shit, Vell,” Cane said. “I got your back, and I can do more than just chasing off the occasional jackass at your door.”

“I could use your neurology expertise figuring out why Alex is the way she is,” Vell sighed.

“Nothing there to diagnose, Vell, she’s just an asshole.”

“I kind of figured,” Vell said.

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

As the day went on, Vell started to get increasingly worried. He was almost done with classes, and it had thus far been an uneventful day -which was bad. The later in the day the apocalypse started, the more likely it was to interfere with his social life. He nervously scrawled a few notes just to have something to do, since all the writing would get erased anyway. The contents of the lectures also didn’t provide much distraction. Due to spending the summer bottled up in his home avoiding unwanted attention, Vell had spent even more time than usual studying over the summer. Even Professor Nguyen’s lessons weren’t providing much new information this year.

“That will be all for the day,” Professor Nguyen said. “You are dismissed.”

None of the students in the room so much as flinched until Professor Nguyen actually said “dismissed”. She expected order and discipline in her classroom, and she enforced that expectation with a steely glare that all her students respected and feared in equal measure. Even with permission to leave granted, the students filed out of her classroom in a calm and orderly fashion, with only minimal conversation that always fell silent as it passed by Professor Nguyen’s desk.

“Mr. Harlan.”

Everyone who was standing near Vell took an immediate step back as soon as Professor Nguyen called his name.

“I’d like to speak to you in my office, if you have a moment,” Professor Nguyen said. It was in every way shape and form a request, yet her stern tone and reputation made it seem threatening anyway. Vell kept his calm and took a seat. In practice, the most threatening thing about Professor Nguyen’s office were the uncomfortable chairs and the befuddling elephant she kept on her desk.

The crudely made, poorly painted pink elephant on her desk was just as confusing now as it had been four years ago. She didn’t have any children, grandchildren, or even nieces or nephews who could’ve made such a thing for her. Vell tried not to stare too hard at the odd elephant as Nguyen took her seat.

“Apologies for the short notice, Mr. Harlan, but an associate of mine has inquired after an academic interview with you tonight.”

“About Quenay?”

“I would not waste your time on such things,” Professor Nguyen said, to Vell’s great relief. Professor Nguyen had a very low tolerance for nonsense of any sort, and that applied to all of Quenay’s nonsense. That intolerance combined with her stern attitude had made Professor Nguyen, and her classroom by extension, into a welcome reprieve from unwanted attention.

“Oh. So, uh, what’s it about, then?”

“In case you have forgotten, you invented the world’s first eight-lined rune,” Professor Nguyen said. “That merits some attention even among these rogue gods and secret runes.”

“Right, uh, that,” Vell said. That invention had been overshadowed by a lot of major events that came very soon after, and even Vell often forgot about it. “I guess I could. When did they want to talk? I was kind of trying to do something with friends…”

“He expressed an open schedule, but if you are unavailable, I will simply tell him such,” Professor Nguyen said.

“I mean, I could try and work it out, assuming nothing gets in the way,” Vell said. “I know you wouldn’t bring it up if it weren’t important...”

“It is,” Professor Nguyen said. “But maintaining interpersonal relationships is also important. It is up to you how to prioritize your-”

Something large and green flopped onto Professor Nguyen’s desk, right next to the pink elephant. Vell’s mind raced with multiple nightmare scenarios before he heard a ribbit. It was a fairly ordinary frog, by all appearances. The frog ribbited once more and shifted slightly on Nguyen’s desk. She glared at it as it let out one more ribbit.

“Absolutely not.”

The frog immediately hopped off the desk and wormed its way out of the office by squeezing under the door.

“Excuse me,” Vell said, as he pointed after the frog. “I think I need to go check on that.”

“I imagine you do,” Nguyen said. “Do put something by the door to keep the frog out. I don’t need distractions, amphibian or otherwise.”

Vell exited the office, and flipped a nearby desk in front of the door so no more frogs could squeeze through. It proved to be a much needed line of defense. The classroom itself was already overrun with frogs, and as he stepped out into the quad, Vell found yet more frogs. Portions of the quad were all but blanketed in the tiny amphibians, forcing what few students were still trying to traverse campus to step carefully. Vell shook a frog off his shoe and then pulled out his phone.

“Hey, Kim.”

“Frogs?”

“Yeah, frogs,” Vell said. “Mostly, at least. Some of them might be toads.”

Stolen story; please report.

“All frogs as far as I can tell,” Kim said. “No sign of where they came from, though.”

“Have they actually done any damage? They’re kind of just existing. Froggily.”

“One guy tripped when a frog jumped in front of him, but he’s fine,” Kim said. “We’re not in properly apocalyptic territory yet, but I assume there’s only going to be more frogs as time goes on.”

“That’s a reasonable assumption,” Vell said. Another frog hopped on to his foot, and Vell didn’t even bother shaking it off this time. “Let’s all meet up outside the Marine Biology department.”

“Are they our prime suspects?” Kim asked. “They’re the ocean guys, frogs can’t live in saltwater.”

“Oh, no, they probably didn’t do this,” Vell said. “But they’re probably pretty close to whoever did. All the animal studies are kind of lumped together.”

“Makes sense. See you soon.”

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

“So, just for the sake of being thorough, you didn’t do this, right?”

“No, Vell, we did not,” Skye said. “We don’t do frogs.”

“Okay, like I said, just being sure,” Vell said. “Do you have any idea who does handle the frogs?”

“I don’t know. That’d be like, amphibology, right?”

“Batrachology,” Kim corrected, as she approached with Hawke and Samson in tow. “Or herpetology, but that handles reptiles and amphibians more generally.”

“We’ll have to investigate them both either way,” Vell said. “You three start with the herpetologists. I’m going to see if Alex knows any spells to get these frogs out of our way.”

As it turned out, Alex did know of at least one way to move a frog. Unfortunately that way was by kicking them. The unfortunate frog sailed through the air over Kim’s head before going splat on the other side of the room.

“Hey! Go easy on the frogs,” Kim said. It was hard to avoid kicking a frog, and getting harder by the second as dozens more showed up, but that had definitely been an intentional kick.

Alex stomped into view, with heavy boots on her feet, a poncho over her shoulders, and a disgusted grimace on her face.

“Those slimy little pests deserve worse,” Alex grumbled. “Kim, light up. I’m going to need a powerful source of fire magic to eradicate all these frogs.”

“No nuclear option,” Vell said. “At least not yet. If these are all some kind of fake conjured frogs, maybe. But if these frogs have been getting teleported from somewhere, killing them all could completely destroy the ecosystem.”

“We’d be better off without them,” Alex snapped. A newly appeared frog answered her insult with an indignant ribbit.

“That’s not how ecosystems work,” Vell said. “Look, can you like, teleport all of these frogs away? Something to get them out of the way harmlessly?”

Considering Alex’s current attitude, Vell put some extra emphasis on “harmlessly”. Alex shook her head and stomped her foot, narrowly avoiding catching a frog underfoot. The blanket of frogs on the ground had gotten even thicker since she’d shown up and started complaining.

“There’s too many of them appearing too fast to get rid of,” Alex said. “And if I send them away, who says they won’t get sent right back? Incineration is our best bet.”

“No fire,” Vell said.

“Yeah, like, what if these are all people?” Hawke said. “I got turned into a frog once. What if you’d incinerated me?”

“Or me,” Samson said. He’d also been froggified in the same incident. It had been surprisingly pleasant, all things considered.

“Please, nobody is being turned into frogs,” Alex said. “I’d recognize that kind of magic. Froggification is one of the first things they teach you.”

She jumped with disgust as another frog hopped on to one of her boots and tried to get comfortable.

“So go find somewhere frog-free and find out what magic is at happening,” Vell said. Alex took the first excuse to be free of the frog swarm and trudged away, grumbling under her breath all the while.

“Alright, Alex hates frogs,” Kim said. “Filing that fact away for when we need to torture her.”

“Always a good thing to have in our pocket,” Vell said. “But we need to get to work. Spread out and scan the herpetology department.”

“Sick. Let’s go look at some newts.”

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

Hawke look at some newts. They did newt things. Not particularly suspicious newt things either.

“I think this is a wash,” Hawke said. “No sign of anything suspicious in any lab.”

There were no magic rituals, rogue experiments, or genetic augmentations lying around that would explain the sudden surplus of frogs. There weren’t even that many frogs on display in the labs, and the few that were present seemed frustrated they were still in their enclosures while so many other frogs were roaming free. Kim stared at a pair of frogs that had pressed themselves against the glass to croak angrily at their comrades.

“Ugh, I hate it when its not the obvious suspect,” Kim said. “Means we have to deal with some sentient frog wizard or something.”

“I would actually kind of want to see that,” Hawke said. “Like, especially if he’s got a little frog-sized wizard hat.”

“Fuck, that does sound good,” Kim said. “Which means its definitely not happening.”

To mask her disappointment that she might never get to see a frog in a wizard hat, Kim got in touch with Vell.

“You find anything yet, Harlan?”

“God, I wish,” Vell said. “Just a bunch of completely ordinary scientists doing completely responsible research on reptiles and amphibians. These guys don’t even like frogs that much.”

The ever-present croaking in the background intensified briefly.

“I’m kind of starting to agree with them,” Hawke said. A frog leaped onto his leg and clung to it as Hawke tried to shake it loose.

“Yeah bud, we’re all starting to hate frogs,” Kim said. “God, this keeps up I might almost agree with Alex on something.”

The ribbiting got louder again, and Kim heard something thwack loudly against a nearby pane of glass. She looked over her shoulder and saw a third frog in the enclosure where once there had been only two.

“Hold on a god damn second. Vell, stay on the line,” Kim said.

Then, for the first and hopefully last time in her life, Kim willingly called Alex. “Hey Alex, how’s your frog situation?”

“Horrible,” Alex snapped. “Everywhere I go, the little beasts just keep showing up! I was in a hermetically sealed, magically shielded bubble, and they still find a way in! I barely got out before I drowned in the damn things.”

Kim did a quick scan of the room. There were definitely frogs where there hadn’t been frogs before.

“Interesting. You know what, Alex? I agree,” Kim said. “Frogs are totally disgusting.”

The ribitting intensified on both ends of the call.

“Obviously! They’re slimy-”

Ribbit.

“Noisy-”

Ribbit ribbit.

“Useless-”

Ribbit ribbit ribbit.

“Yeah that’s great Alex you can shut up now,” Kim said. “Listen, I think I figured something out. Hating frogs makes more frogs appear.”

“Huh. Hold on a second,” Vell said. He pulled the phone away from himself for a second, but everyone on the call could still clearly hear him shout “Frogs fucking suck” followed by a short yelp of surprise. “Okay, yeah, think you might be on to something. Like fifty frogs just showed up. One of them landed on my head!”

Alex gave a long groan of disgust which Vell and Kim dutifully ignored.

“Insulting frogs makes it faster, but I think it’s also going off our thoughts too,” Kim said. “That’s why frogs keep showing up even when we’re just standing around.”

“Well that complicates things,” Vell said. “I think our biggest problem is the feedback loop.”

“Right. The more people hate frogs, the more frogs show up,” Kim said. “And the more frogs show up getting in peoples way, the more people will hate them. Like Alex.”

“I already hate frogs as much as it is possible to hate them,” Alex said.

“You’re not the problem,” Kim said. At least not the entire problem. “The problem is the entire campus of other people who are all slowly starting to hate frogs more, resulting in exponentially larger amounts of frogs over time.”

“I wonder how many frogs this island can support,” Vell said.

Something across the island crashed down, loudly.

“Although I suppose its more a question of how many frogs the buildings can support, isn’t it?” Vell said. “Alex, get back to work on that magic trace, we need to find out what the hell is going on, fast. I’m going to go investigate whatever the hell just made that noise.”

“Anything that hates frogs more than Alex has got to be worth checking out,” Kim said.

“Indeed,” Alex said. The fact that she agreed made it a lot less fun.

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

“I know we’re surrounded by frogs, but still,” Vell said. “That is a lot of fucking frogs.”

Where the sophomore dorms had once stood, there was now nothing more than a pile of rubble and frogs -and frog guts. Mostly frog guts, at least. There were no doubt some human guts mixed in as well, but frogs made up most of the recently deceased.

“Somebody in there must’ve really hated frogs,” Samson said. He’d hit a dead end in his own search and come to check out the carnage as well.

“No way to know now,” Vell said. He kicked aside some rubble and watched a few frog legs slide out. “Not exactly in prime investigation condition.”

If there were any sign of what has caused the sudden explosion of frogs in the dorms, it was likely buried under rubble and frog viscera. Even if evidence did exist, Vell didn’t exactly want to go digging for it, especially not in the dark. The frog problem had stretched all the way past sunset, and they would soon hit the midnight reset that happened every first loop.

“Why does everything have to be so difficult,” Vell mumbled.

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Vell said. Samson looked at him funny, but dropped the topic. Vell sighed with relief and moved on. “Okay, trying to piece this together...we have frogs, too many god damn frogs, and more of them every time someone hates on them. What do you think, Samson, someone who really likes frogs is getting defensive?”

“I mean, it makes sense to me,” Samson said. “But all the most likely frog enjoyers on campus said they had nothing to do with it.”

“You can like frogs and not study them, though,” Vell said. “Man, there’s probably some witch with a shelf of frog figurines who did all this. Something like that. And I have no fucking idea who it could be.”

“What, like you’re supposed to know what everyone on campus likes?” Samson asked. “Come on, Vell, we can figure this out. We got most of the day to get this done on the second loop.”

The moment Samson felt safe discussing the time loops, Luke rounded the corner.

“The second what?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Vell and Samson said simultaneously. Luke looked at them funny, but dropped the subject.

“What are you doing here, Luke?”

“Looking for you, mostly,” Luke said. “Cane’s been looking for you.”

“Oh, right, sorry,” Vell said. “I should’ve let Cane know I wasn’t coming to that thi-”

“Vell. We’re in the middle of the fucking frogpocalypse,” Luke said. He gestured to the pile of rubble they were standing next to. “Cane is not worried you missed board game night. Cane found what caused the frog shit.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, I was on the phone with him when he found it,” Luke said. “He said something about a ghost, then everything went fritzy and my phone died.”

“What else did he say? Anything?”

“Nothing I could hear,” Luke said. “He was in a basement, I’m pretty sure.”

“A basement where?”

Luke pursed his lips uncomfortably and looked at the collapsed rubble again.

“Oh.”

“Of course,” Samson sighed. “But I mean, the basements around here have got to be pretty sturdy. Maybe we can dig him out before midnight?”

Wait,” Luke said. “Why does midnight matter?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Vell and Samson said simultaneously. Luke looked at them even funnier, but dropped the subject.