Arien's POV
The night passed quietly. I'd knocked out the second my head hit the pillow — but somewhere past midnight, I stirred awake. Maybe the weight of the day hadn't completely left me after all. From my upper bunk, I scanned the dim room. Tavira, unsurprisingly, was dead to the world — sprawled across the lower bunk like a starfish. No shock there. But I wasn't the only one awake. Across the room, I spotted Libra Celestin, perched against the wall in her lower bunk, her face dimly lit by the dull glow of her phone screen.
"Signal?" I asked, hopeful even though I already knew the answer. She didn't look up. Just gave a small shake of her head. "Still out."
I sighed and sank back against the pillow, eyes tracing the ceiling I couldn't really see. For a few seconds, neither of us said anything. Just the soft buzz of distant streetlights outside the window, and the occasional rustle of fabric as someone shifted in their sleep.
"Can't sleep?" I asked, just above a whisper. Libra hesitated. Then, quietly, "Yeah."
"Do you think we'll know tomorrow?" I asked. "About the Garriors, I mean."
Libra finally looked up from her phone, her eyes drifting toward the door.
"I think the ones who'll be chosen probably already feel it."
That thought stuck with me. A strange way to answer — not if they'll feel it, but that they already had.
I studied her posture. "You say that like you know something," I muttered, only half-joking.
She didn't respond right away. Just gave a soft shrug.
"Maybe I do. Maybe I'm just guessing better than most people tonight." She smiled.
I couldn't help but be a little amused. That was such a Libra answer — not quite vague, not quite honest either. I gave her a thumbs up.
"You slay, girl."
I heard Libra's soft laughter as I climbed down from the bunk.
"Where's Siara?" I asked, glancing toward the empty bed across from us.
Libra's bunkmate, Siara Callahan, was our sunshine and gentle roommate — always smiling, always calm. Well, except when her gadgets failed. A total techie. I was pretty sure she was having a full-blown breakdown somewhere right now, considering all her precious babies — phone, tablet, smartwatch, and who knows what else were probably all down for the count.
I stepped outside the room — you know, nature calls. But the hallway wasn't empty. A bunch of residents were up, staring at the sky, walking restlessly, whispering among themselves. I did my business in the washroom, but instead of heading straight back, I decided to go looking for my roommate. That's when I heard it.
"How is she even focusing on studies right now?"
"Yeah, right! What the heck is she doing when everyone else is freaked out?"
"What a total freak. Doesn't she know how the whole society is feeling right now?"
I didn't even need to ask who they were talking about. There was only one person who'd be that focused on reviving her precious tech-babies in the middle of an apocalyptic panic — Siara Callahan. I shot a glance at the girls gossiping just outside the library doorway.
"Well, at least she's moving her life forward," I muttered, walking past them. "Pretty sure the library was built for studying. So if anyone's violating the mood in the library, it's you guys."
They rolled their eyes and shuffled off without bothering to argue.
Oh, maybe I forgot to mention — we're students at an engineering college. And like every engineering college ever, we're a chronically stressed bunch, drowning in exams, labs, and last-minute assignments. Honestly, with the world possibly ending, most people were just relieved that exams were canceled. But that relief came with a side of existential dread — after all, if the world's ending, why bother with goals at all?
Then again, that's probably how most people are thinking right now except for one very stubborn tech goblin. I stepped into the hostel library — and there she was. Siara, smack in the center, surrounded by open books, scattered tools, wires, and half-repaired devices mid-surgery.
Totally in her element.
She seemed lost in thought, carefully adjusting something on a circuit board when I stepped into the library.
"It's not the battery. Not the charger. It's... something else."
I didn't think she'd noticed me, so when I asked from the doorway, "Like what?" — she jumped.
The tool in her hand clattered onto the table as she spun around, eyes wide. For a second, genuine fear flickered across her face. "Holy— Arien!" she hissed, clutching her chest. "You scared the crap out of me!"
"Sorry," I said, holding up both hands. "Didn't mean to ghost you."
She exhaled hard, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You really shouldn't sneak up on people in a post-apocalyptic setting, you know that?"
"Duly noted."
Siara still looked rattled but forced herself to refocus. "Anyway... like I was saying," she continued, her voice more certain now, "It's not the battery. Not the charger. It's... something else."
I frowned. "Like what?"
She hesitated, then tapped the side of her head. "Think of it like this — before today, our devices ran on a certain kind of electricity. But after whatever cosmic mess happened earlier, that electricity... changed."
"Changed how?"
"It's like the power coming from the outlets isn't speaking the same language as our phones or laptops anymore," she explained. "The devices are fine. But they don't understand the energy being fed into them. So they just don't turn on."
"So the power's still there..."
"...but it's not the kind our tech knows how to use," she finished.
I squinted at her, trying to process it all. "So... what? Like a shift in the atmosphere or something? On a microscopic level?"
Siara nodded slowly. "Maybe. A change we can't see — but our tech can. Only further research can uncover that."
She let out a breath and rubbed her eyes. "And I'm just a student. Who needs sleep."
Fair enough.