"Breaking news—"
A blue comet is hurtling toward us.
Do not panic. Do not fret.
We are working tirelessly to secure Geneara's survival.
The reporter clutched her earpiece, her face lighting up with sudden relief.
"Wait—I've just received reports that—"
Her voice cut off abruptly.
The broadcast flickered.
Then—static.
Absinthe reached for the remote, her head spinning with confusion.
What happened to the reception? What were they about to say? Was there a way out of this—or was this just a signal disruption?
The silence felt unnatural, pressing, thick with unanswered questions.
Lush appeared at her side, her expression mirroring Absinthe's own unease—eyes wide, thoughts tangled.
"Are you sure you want to go to school today?" Her voice was soft, cautious. "Why don't you stay home? Maybe we can figure something out—maybe a safety plan?"
Her golden locks flowed over her shoulders, her deep brown eyes glowing with disbelief.
Once a former model, now the wife of her hearing brother, Sinister, Lush was five months pregnant, her belly rounded with the weight of impending life.
Would her niece or nephew ever see daylight? Would they breathe the scent of rising wind?
Absinthe's blue eyes dropped to the carpet, her white French braid slipping forward as she wiped her face with her hands, collecting herself like morning dew settling into the earth.
"Yeah, I'm still going to school today."
Lush countered quickly, shaking her head.
"No, you should stay home!."
She placed Absinthe's breakfast down onto the coffee table, her hands momentarily lingering near the plate—as if holding onto something unspoken.
Then—words slipped from Lush's mouth, barely above a whisper.
"Your brother—"
The ringing of Absinthe's phone cut her off.
She glanced down.
The screen buzzed—Obsidion calling. A few unread texts from Synthena lit up the display.
"Are you coming today? I'm still going to school, despite my father's pleas."
Absinthe looked back at Lush, her eyes still laced with concern.
"Sorry, Lush. I'm still going. I need to—"
Her arms crossed against her chest, worry pooling beneath her resolve.
Lush exhaled, fingers resting against her stomach, devastation etched into her movements—but she knew.
She couldn't change Absinthe's mind.
"Alright. If you say so."
A pause—then Lush gestured toward the entrance.
"Before you leave, I set your school bag by the door."
Absinthe nodded, reaching for her breakfast, her mind still clouded with uncertainty.
Lush stood with her back turned, shoulders stiff—though she glanced back, her face shadowed by worry.
Her fingers curled into a tight grip over her belly, a silent gesture—she knew something, but even now, she couldn't convince her own sister-in-law to stay.
Without another word, she returned to the kitchen, vanishing into the space she had come from.
Absinthe grabbed her bag, pausing briefly before calling out:
"I'll see you soon, Lush."
Lush's reply drifted from the kitchen, soft, hesitant—
"Yep."
She kept stirring, the bowl in her hands barely moving, dread etched into her every motion as she prepped food for later.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Abby's Walk To School
What was the point of school today? The thought raced through Absinthe's mind, an unsettling realization twisting in her gut.
Was she worried? Or did she just want an excuse to forget the world's current condition?
Still—routine was a stubborn comfort, so she kept walking.
The air was heavy with eerie silence, broken only by the distant murmurs of passersby whispering, chattering in low voices. They weren't speaking in full sentences, just fragments of fear, half-formed discussions about the state of things.
A man noticed her passing, hesitated, then called out—
His face was shadowed by fear and doubt.
"You're still going to school? Not under these circumstances!" His voice sharpened. "You should be with your family, or even planning an escape. Aren't you scared?"
Absinthe froze, her eyes widening at his words.
But she didn't answer.
She just remained silent.
The man exhaled.
"Well, that's some dedication you've got there, kid. I wish you luck."
Was it a doubtful praise?
A guilty remorse?
It didn't matter.
This was her decision—no one else's.
The bystander returned to his family, shared unease passing between them.
Still—
Absinthe trudged forward, headphones snugly in place, the announcement about the blue comet clinging to her thoughts. The weight of it settled deep in her ribs, cold and unrelenting.
The town she had always loved now drowned in despair.
But it didn't matter. Right?
It is what it is.
This is my choice.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket again. She pulled it out, glancing at the caller ID.
Her brother, Sinister.
She stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the answer button.
But where could they possibly go?
Where could they run to save themselves?
They were only a low-income household, surviving off Sinister's delayed gigs, finances stalled, barely holding together.
Absinthe huffed out a breath, pushing the thought aside.
The gates of Louche's High came into view.
And just as they did—
A smug voice cut through her music.
"Abby! Wait up!"
She sighed, pulling down her headphones, already bracing herself.
Sure enough—Obsidian jogged beside her, grinning. His gold eyes gleamed with mischief, red hair catching the morning light like embers on fire.
"Miss me yet?" He teased.
Absinthe deadpanned, "Oh, it's you. And for the thousandth time—no."
"Aww, come on, baby."
That was it.
Absinthe pivoted sharply, delivering a swift, controlled punch to the side of his head.
"Ow!" Obsidian stumbled back, rubbing his skull. "What the hell, Abby?!"
"You know exactly what that was for."
He muttered, "You're violent."
She shot back, "You're annoying."
The school gates loomed ahead, and waiting there—effortlessly composed, was Synthena.
"Abby! Sid!" Synthena's voice was bright, playful. Her pink hair gleamed, the toxic green streak cutting through like a rebellious signature.
"Hey, Sin," Absinthe greeted, a small smirk slipping through her scowl.
"Did I interrupt another lovers' spat?" Synthena teased.
"Not lovers," Absinthe corrected.
"Speak for yourself," Obsidian smirked.
Synthena giggled, then her voice dipped into quiet concern.
"Did you guys hear about the comet?"
Absinthe and Obsidian exchanged a glance.
"Are you scared?" Synthena asked.
Obsidian puffed his chest, flashing a shaky grin.
"Men don't get scared."
Both girls raised an eyebrow.
Then—laughter spilled between them, sharp, untamed.
"Sure, Sid," Absinthe muttered, shaking her head.
Synthena leaned in, her smile gentler now.
"Whatever happens... at least we're in this together."
**************************************************************************************
The small group entered the school gates, footsteps echoing through the empty halls. A dreary atmosphere clung to the corridors, scattered students either pretending everything was fine or muttering anxiously about the comet.
Some grumbled about strict parents forcing them to come. Others dismissed the news entirely.
Absinthe glanced around at the mix of skepticism and worry, barely suppressing a sharp exhale.
Synthena broke the quiet. "It's so empty today. I Should've stayed home," she muttered, arms crossed.
Absinthe shot her a look. "Why didn't you?"
Synthena hesitated. "I don't know. Just had a weird feeling I should be here—even though my parents begged me to stay home."
Silence stretched.
"And you?" Synthena pressed. "Why didn't you stay home?"
Absinthe's pace slowed slightly. "I guess I was bored. Didn't want my last hours to be... boring."
The final word softened, hesitation sneaking in.
Synthena's gaze sharpened with understanding. "You were worried, weren't you?"
Absinthe bristled. "Absolutely not!" Too firm. Too quick.
Synthena giggled, nudging her playfully. "You're such a hard head."
Absinthe flushed, looking away.
Synthena shifted toward Obsidian. "And what about you? You're quieter than usual."
Obsidian snapped to attention, startled. "What? Nothing's wrong here!"
Synthena raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh, really?"
A mischievous glint sparked in her eyes. She pulled a box of donuts from her bag, lifting it high above her head.
"Oh well, guess I'll have to eat these all by myself. Since you don't care."
Obsidian snapped out of his facade instantly. "Hey! You can't do that! That's not fair—give me some!"
Synthena dodged his grasp with a laugh, holding the box higher. "Nope! They're mine!"
She took off, Obsidian hot on her heels.
Absinthe lingered behind, watching them, a wistful smile tugging at her lips.
If the comet hits... will we be friends again in the afterlife?
A quiet sniffle broke through the laughter.
Synthena froze, lowering the box, grin fading into concern.
Obsidian halted. Absinthe's tear-streaked face stopped him cold.
Something stirred inside him.
Without thinking, he stormed toward her, gripping her shoulders.
"Snap out of it, Absinthe!" The words tumbled clumsily, frustration mixing with something unspoken. "You—you're an uptight, stubborn... thingy-m-bobber!"
His cheeks flushed, warmth spreading to the tips of his ears.
Absinthe blinked—then laughed, bright and melodic.
Obsidian stared, flustered. "What's so funny?"
Synthena turned her back, arms crossed, muttering dramatically. "Just get married already."
Obsidian and Absinthe broke apart instantly, standing back-to-back, arms crossed, faces burning red.
Synthena spun, smirking knowingly. "Come on! We better head to class."
She hurried down the hallway, box still in hand.
Obsidian bristled, watching her escape. "Hey, wait up! You can't keep those to yourself! They'll make you fat!"
Synthena snapped back instantly. "Watch your mouth, redhead!"
She dashed ahead, footsteps quick, playful.
Obsidian grinned, chasing after her.
Absinthe watched them run, heart lighter, smile softer.
She felt the vibrations of her phone ringing in her pocket, the hum barely noticeable against her distracted thoughts.
She glanced at the screen once—just for a moment.
Then, she ignored it.
Brushing it off, she turned her attention forward, calling out toward Obsidion and Synthena's direction.
"Hey! Wait up! I want some donuts too!"
She broke into a jog
"Her phone rang again, the vibrations dull against her pocket.
The caller ID flashed—her brother.
The sound"
____________________________________________________________________________________
The figure stood firm, his gaze fixed on the sky—its light blue fading, sinking into the depths of dark navy.
He shifted, pulling the phone away from his ear, responding to the voice behind him.
"Sir! Your wife is ready, but... we can't get a hold of your sister."
The voice was laced with concern, wrapped in quiet courtesy.
The man stepped away from the window, leaving behind the last traces of dusk, his form dissolving into the shadowed depths of the house.
**************************************************************************
The sun hung low, casting an amber glow over the school grounds. Inside the cafeteria, Absinthe, Synthena, and Obsidion sat in tense silence, the weight of the comet thick in the air.
Their phones crackled, the latest KinTube report flashing across their screens.
"Breaking news: The blue comet has entered Earth's atmosphere, growing larger by the minute. Scientists report erratic behavior—it's slowing. Less than one hour until impact. Citizens are urged to remain calm and prepare for the worst."
Synthena stared at her phone, the broadcast looping, numbers ticking down.
Then, without a word—she placed it face-down, the screen flickering once before cutting to black.
Silence struck—sharp, unrelenting, like a hammer on steel.
The trio—Obsidian, Absinthe, and Synthena—remained still.
But the quiet wasn't empty. It was loud, pressing, filled with the weight of unspoken fear.
Then—
The cafeteria doors slammed open, the sound splitting the silence in two.
Travis strode in, white hair streaked with lilac catching the fading light, dull purple eyes sharp. Behind him, Celestia followed—casual as ever, fingers gripping her PSP, adjusting her Bluetooth earpiece.
Absinthe's expression darkened, a shadow of dreary unease slipping across her face.
She wasn't pleased.
She hadn't seen that face in a long time—long enough to think she wouldn't again.
Her heart tightened, a cold grip settling in her chest, tension rising like a tide.
Her thoughts raced, colliding against each other, whispering quietly to herself—
What is she doing here?
Synthena noticed—and she froze.
She knew.
She understood why Absinthe was reacting like this, but she never thought the past would finally turn up again, uninvited—a ghost resurfacing when the world was already crumbling.
Her gaze shifted, landing on Travis and Celestia.
Yet, as always—her dedication to keeping the peace held firm, even as the air thickened with unspoken tension.
Travis scanned the group, dry amusement flickering in his gaze. "Didn't expect the end-of-the-world club to meet without me."
Synthena's face brightened instantly. "Trav, you made it!"
He ruffled his hair lazily, feigning indifference. "Someone's gotta keep you out of trouble."
Celestia plopped beside Obsidion, barely acknowledging the tension. Her fingers danced across her screen. "So, what's the plan?" she asked, eyes still locked on her game. "Hide, run, or sit like ducks waiting to be roasted?"
Obsidion scoffed. "Maybe put the game down for once?"
Celestia's lips curled into a smirk. "It helps me focus. What's your excuse for standing around?"
Absinthe cut through their bickering, pushing past the rising heat in her chest as Celestia's sudden presence set her on edge.
It's the end.
Why not try to act normal for once?
Her eyes narrowed, locking onto Celestia—but she forced herself to stay calm, steady, in control.
Her voice cut through the air, sharp and unwavering—
"Enough. We need a plan."
Travis crossed his arms, brushing away the lingering tension between Celestia and Absinthe as if it were nothing.
"Ha! Of course, it'd be you taking control of the situation."
His smile widened, eyes closed in mock confidence—mischievous, yet playful.
"So, Abs—what bright ideas do you have for us today?"
Absinthe ignored him, despite knowing exactly what game he was playing—bringing Celestia here.
Her gaze stayed fixed on the sky outside.
Streaks of blue and violet deepened, twisting, writhing—unnatural, alive.
A low rumble vibrated beneath their feet—faint, growing, wrong.
Celestia finally looked up from her screen. "That sky doesn't look normal."
Synthena edged toward the window. "Are we sure this is just a comet?"
Absinthe's fingers curled tightly around the edge of the table, tension bristling beneath her skin.
She wasn't pleased hearing Celestia speak—but she had to push past it.
Her voice came firm, unwavering—
"We need to get to the basement. It's the only reinforced part of the school."
Travis arched an eyebrow. "That's your genius plan?"
Absinthe snapped toward him. "Unless you've got a better one?"
Travis sighed, surrendering. "Fine. Lead the way."
They moved fast, leaving the cafeteria, weaving through darkened hallways. Lights flickered overhead, casting uneasy shadows.
The rumbling intensified. The building lurched violently—shards of glass rained down.
Celestia yelped, ducking instinctively.
Travis's arm shot out, shielding her.
"Move!" Absinthe's voice was sharp with urgency.
They raced down the stairs, footsteps pounding against concrete walls.
Inside the basement, they slammed the heavy door shut, muffling the chaos beyond.
The group stood in silence, catching their breath.
Absinthe turned to face them, steely-eyed. "Whatever happens next, we stick together."
Celestia muttered, "Sticking together doesn't stop a comet from squashing us, but sure, why not?"
Travis rolled his eyes. "At least we'll be squashed as a team."
Obsidion chuckled, but the sound was swallowed by the roar above them—deafening, unnatural.
The sky twisted. The air charged.
The blue comet had arrived.
*****************************************************************************
The voice echoed across Geneara, distant but unwavering:
"To those who hear this—to those with cherished families, closest friends—do not despair. This may feel like the end, but it is only the' beginning'. Our time is limited, but we shall rise. We are Geneara—the town that defies death. And this will make us stronger."
The small group huddled together, gripping one another in a silent pact.
Memories surfaced—stories meant to distract from the truth.
Their voices carried the weight of final words.
The countdown began.
12...
3...