Sam's feet pounded against the ground in a frantic rhythm. The heat behind her was scorching; she could feel the sweat dripping down her neck. A glance behind her revealed the cause--a wall of fire, coming toward her, faster than she could run. She could see shelter up ahead.

Behind her were two figures, only shadows against the background of the flames. The shelter was now only a few yards away...behind her, the figures wailed in agony, destined to aburning demise. She was too determined to escape the same fate to cry, for she somehow knew the figures had been her parents. It was only a little farther...

Alas, the fire was gaining on her, and she fell to the ground, tripping over something. She looked down and abject horror filled her. It was a body, one with scorched clothing and unmistakable black hair. She couldn't keep the tears from pouring down her face, too grieved to move.

The heat enveloped her, and Sam screamed.

Bolting upright, the girl looked around her surroundings. She saw white, and for a terrible moment she thought she was dead. But no, it was instead the room she had fallen asleep in. Jazz, Tucker, and Danny were still out on the table.

"It was all a dream," Sam reassured herself, rubbing her temples. "A horrible dream." She stood, stretching her stiff limbs over her head. The position she had slept in had left her slightly sore. There was a satisfying pop from her shoulder, and she dropped her arms to her sides.

She could taste the morning. Sam pulled a disgusted face and walked towards the bathroom. Again, as she pushed open the door, the lights automatically flickered on. As she walked over to the sink she could see watery black spots against the white of the sink--remnants from last night.

Her toothbrush was sitting on the counter, along with the rest of the household's necessities. Jazz had no doubt placed them there during the night. Sam turned the knobs on the sink and let the water run.

-----

One of the boys on the table stirred, waking from dreams similar to Sam's. But fortunately, he awoke with much less energy, instead feeling groggy. With a yawn and a stretch, he stood up, rubbing his eyes as he did so. The content of his dream was already leaving his mind, but the events of the day before rang fresh in his mind, replaying over and over.

Looking at his makeshift bed, he found that his sister and his best friend were still asleep. His other best friend was not at the table, and so he observed the room. There was no sign that Sam, now Salanil, was in the room. The boy walked around, listening for some sign of the girl.

Running water in the bathroom was one of the giveaways as to Sam's location. The door was open, and the lights shone out as he approached. He could not see into the room, save for the edge of a mirror, but his ears picked up the sound of Sam humming softly, barely audible over the sink.

He stopped in the doorway, watching as Sam brushed her hair out with a moist brush. The black locks cascaded over her shoulders, hiding from him the cream-colored skin. As the bristles pulled out all of the snarls in her hair, it waved back and forth, a shine sparkling in a different spot every moment.

For a moment Danny thought she was an angel.

The sound of the brush clicking on the sink snapped the boy out of his thoughts. She turned, hair spinning behind her, eyes widening in surprise as she saw that her actions at the sink had not gone unnoticed. "Danny?"

Looking down, the boy's face was obstructed by the black hair that she had become accustomed too.His voice was soft, to the point that she had to strain to hear. "Please...call me by my real name."

"That is your real name," Sam said, just as soft and plagued with confusion.

"Not anymore." He looked up, and the sorrow in his face was apparent. "Please, Sam...I just want to leave everything about our old life behind." He choked on the last few words, looking away from her pity-filled face.

The girl paused. It seemed that, though they all had been changed by the events above the surface, Danny had truly been transformed into a different person--more so than when he went ghost. "All right," Sam said delicately, "Whatever you want, Darmido." Salinil gathered up her belongings and brushed past him, without glancing back even once.

The boy sighed, and shut the door.

-----

As she stepped out of the doorway, Jasmine Fenton couldn't help but stop and stare at the sight that met her eyes. People of all ages and races walked in front of her, speaking in many different languages and wearing clothing from all over the world--and under it. The Earth-Dwellers chatted amicably with the many survivors, somehow knowing every language necessary to communicate. Just in front of her passed a tall female with black hair and alabaster skin, talking with a stocky African man, both speaking some guttural tribal language that Jazz felt she could never learn.

She wandered through the many halls, marvelling at the beautiful carvings in the white stonewalls. It seemed like this whole world could have been a dream, an elaborate and wonderful dream...but she knew that it was bitterly real. The above world was gone, yes, but they could not have chosen a better place to call their new home. Jazz's only concern was this marriage rule. It was ridiculous. Humans just weren't ready for marriage at 16. It was a psychological fact. Although... Her eyes followed an attractive red-headed male as he walked by, dressed in American-style jeans and a black shirt.

Acting on a whim, Jazz started after the boy. She followed as he walked into a large room, with what looked like benches scattered around the place. It was filled with people, all talking. Some were laughing, others were being comforted by their loved ones and sobbing. The boy sat down on a nearby, empty bench, pulling out a pad of paper and a pencil. His hand flitted across the blank page, quickly creating shapes and squiggles Jazz couldn't interpret.

She must have watched the boy draw for a good twenty minutes before the shapes became recognizable. Jasmine turned her head up to survey the room, then back at the paper, and found it was a very accurate rendition.

The boy must have caught this sudden movement, because she found herself looking right into brown eyes. "Can ah help you, miss?" he said, in a clear Texan accent. One of his eyebrows was raised with intrigue.

Flushing with embarrassment, Jazz raised her hands up defensively. "Oh, no, I was just wondering what you were drawing."

Interest sparkled in the boy's eyes. "You were?" At Jazz's nod, he continued excitedly, looking down at his paper. "Well, ah've always been partial to drawin' people, but the ones here are all so...diff'rent, ah just had to try mah hand at a scene."

"It's quite good," Jazz said truthfully as she sat on the bench.

"That it is, miss," he said with a smile. Extending a hand, Jazz could see that there were calluses all along his palm, signs of hard work. She took the hand and shook it politely.

"I'm Jasmine Fenton."

"Trent," he replied, pulling his hand back. "Trent Keith." He flashed her a smile. Jazz returned the gesture.

Maybe this marriage rule wasn't as ridiculous as she'd thought.

A/N: I know it's short, but it's been a while and writer's block has hit me. I might as well put up what I've got.

And as a side-note: Special thanks to ChoasGhostboy for giving me some helpful suggestions.