Despite the fact no one seemed to be looking to him for someone to blame, Enjolras still felt the burning weight of responsibility. He'd been the one to argue against letting the wildcard in, and while it had made sense, and the risk had still been high, now he suddenly felt incredibly naïve for jumping to a conclusion so soon. With this new development in mind, things suddenly seemed to get far more interesting. The losers all made themselves comfortable in their seats or lounging on the floor of the classroom, watching the people who'd left them for dead now debate the possibility of their lives being limited to only one more year.

"Do we believe him?" Asked Eponine, keeping her voice low so that the others couldn't hear her – evidently, the situation, hypothetical or not, was becoming something of a role play for some members of the class. Hell, some of the students who'd lost out seemed genuinely disappointed that they wouldn't have the chance to live, or rather that they'd been brushed off so easily. Once or twice, Courfeyrac found himself catching Jehan's attention, asking if he was alright with just a quirk of the eyebrow, to which the poet would smile and nod reassuringly from his carpeted death bed. He was sad that he wouldn't be able to participate – after all, he loved this class more than most of his others, and this sort of exercise was something he truly enjoyed. But, maybe there'd be multiple rounds, where they'd be given different cards to choose from. Maybe he'd get to be something of practical value next time around.

"I would point out that, instead of writing out the code, he chose to just write that instead?" Combeferre replied, equally quietly as they all gathered around in a tight knit circle. "I think he's just toying with us; wanting us to feel bad for leaving him to die."

"Why don't we try opening the doors? See if he's right?"

"And let in volcanic gas and who knows what else? It's not worth the risk" Reminded Grantaire, his expression dipping into one of surprise when he saw Enjolras agreeing with him.

"He's right. We'll simply have to wait a year for the answer to that question."

Thanks to the pictures of their new experimental home giving them inspiration, their half of the room slowly became the bunker in their minds, with certain parts being sectioned off as each room. Gradually the other students faded out, leaving only imaginary space where the apocalypse-stricken world now lay. Soon enough they'd made tallies and lists of their food supplies, how often they ate and how much. How many days had passed, how everyone was doing – and with the occasional narration from their teacher shaping their experience, it slowly became very real to the students involved. Cosette took the thought of leaving Marius to die to heart, and at one point seemed honestly upset that more people hadn't voted for him.

When they'd been voting, it'd seemed like a school-room activity, one that the boys were playing off as a joke if they lost and a weekend victory if they were voted in. But the seriousness of the situation was infectious, and the more Joly checked the oxygen levels and Combeferre made lists and checked them twice, the faster they all took to their roles. While the eleven month marker was put down, Grantaire went and joined Cosette by the door of the bunker, nudging her lightly with his elbow.

"How're you holding up..?"

"I don't know if I want to participate anymore." She remarked in a small voice. "The premise was interesting, but…what if this had been real? We would have left our friends out there to die, simply because they weren't scientists or doctors."

"I guess, if the world ever ends, we'll have to make hard decisions. But, if that ever happens-"

"If that ever happens, I wouldn't be here – I should have given my slot to someone else."

"Why?"

"I've survived for the past eleven months, yes…but I haven't been alive. Not really. I've been miserable. Everyone has their jobs to do, and I've talked to some of the people here…but I keep thinking about what Jehan said, about morale. It sounds stupid, but…when you're with someone so much, and then with one vote, you're separated forever…I don't know, it hurts in a way you can't explain."

"Marius is your morale. I get it, don't worry"

"It's silly, I know"

"Nah, I understand. We're social creatures. We need affection, we need love." With another, more playful nudge, "Would you like me to recite you a poem?"

When she looked to her companion and saw his smile, she couldn't help but mirror it slightly.

"That's okay…"

"Maybe next time, Marius will get voted in. It's just an exercise, Cosette. Next time you can be with him, one way or another. Hey, I'll even vote for him if you like."

"That's very nice of you, but it's not just up to me and you. But, it's alright for you I suppose"

"Why do you say that?"

Giving him a knowing look, she nodded towards where Enjolras talking to Combeferre.

"Your person got voted in without any trouble at all, and neither did you. I have a feeling you'll be fine if there is another round."

"I'm not sure he's 'mine'"

"Well, maybe not now – have you considered talking to him? Telling him?"

"Are you kidding..? He'd laugh in my face. I'm only here because of my card – if I'd been anything else, he'd have left me out there to die just as fast as he did Jehan or Musichetta."

"I don't think-"

"Grantaire, Cosette – come on." Both looked up at the same time to see Bahorel stood over them, offering them both a hand up. "The year's up; we're testing the doors."

Not at all perturbed that they'd just talked a full month away, they got to their feet, and approached the desks. With their teacher waiting patiently with the other students, he let Enjolras make out that he was pushing a button to open the doors before he spoke up at last.

"I was telling the truth. You need a code, and since I'm long since dead…you're all on borrowed time, I'm afraid."

This obviously was not the answer Enjolras had wanted to hear, but it was the situation he was faced with. It was a frustrating waste of life, hypothetical or otherwise, and he could feel it turning his mood sour. While they weren't out of food yet, the rations were all but out, and the oxygen supply would give out in time as well. And apparently, the scene couldn't end until all were free, or all were dead. So, they waited. The last of the food was shared out.

And then, quite unexpectedly, Joly made the decision to end his own life.

It'd been a decision he'd explained rather eloquently once he'd done it – he hadn't wanted to go through a slow suffocation, nor had he wanted to watch his friends die before him. With one less person in the bunker, there'd be just a little more oxygen to go around, a little more time for them to come to terms with their own fates.

Only now, his death meant that starvation wasn't an option anymore. Logic was something that their teacher thrived on, but the fact that eating their friend was now being discussed was too much for two members of the group. Both Courfeyrac and Cosette followed Joly's example, and those who couldn't deal with what they'd been forced to do simply left the rest up to time. Eventually, their oxygen dwindled to nothing. Hypoxia set in, and soon, the first round came to a close.

As they came around to the join the rest of the class, everyone was struck by a stern, thoughtful silence, which was broken only by Joly's wide eyed rhetorical need for clarification from his fellow bunker-mates.

"You ate me"

"It was a matter of survival, Joly. You know that."

Eponine replied with a feigned air of seriousness, though she did urge the other's to awkwardly pile on top of him in a display of apology, perhaps in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Cosette and Marius sat together like magnets, hands entwined and kisses shared like it really had been a year since they'd seen each other last. Jehan was pulled into a hug with Courfeyrac, and it was in the crook of his body he remained as they sat back against the wall. As for Joly, once he'd been allowed to sit back up once more, had practically been dragged over to where Musichetta had been sitting, though thy both made room for Bossuet a moment later. Enjolras simply pulled a chair out and took a seat, either ignoring or not noticing the kind of look Grantaire was now giving him. They'd failed the exercise fairly spectacularly, and he wanted another round – another chance to prove they could do better. Stepping out in front of them all, the teacher got a general consensus of how they thought they did; not well, evidently.

"That's alright; although it's not something the human race is generally good at, let's see if you can learn from your mistakes in the second round."

"Do we get different cards?" Asked Montparnasse, his boredom painfully apparent. "It's all well and good for the ones who get to do shit, but the rest of us have just been sat here for half an hour doing bugger all."

Both Jehan and Musichetta looked back at the teacher in unison, hoping his answer would include them.

"No. You all keep your cards – But! There's something different this time. Let's have a new apocalypse, a new catastrophe."

"Natural disaster" Came Feuilly's suggestion, one that was met with even amounts of support and disagreement.

"Old school…I like it. A massive series of volcanic eruptions, let's say. Now, starting from this side of the room," he motioned to the left, "I want you to come up here, and tell us all your profession again. But then unfold your cards, and read whatever else they say on the inside."

Marius was the first to go this time. Getting to his feet, he went up in front of the class, and did as instructed, pulling his card out of his pocket.

"I'm a soldier, and…I have a fantastic sense of humour." Looking around the room, he felt himself smiling a little at the fact he was being considered.

"I think humour is something you guys really needed last time; I'll help keep the mood up, keep people feeling good…"

As promised, Grantaire put his hand up at the same time as Cosette, ready to defend his choice when he felt Enjolras' eyes on him.

"He has a good point. I mean, I love you guys – I spent a whole hypothetical year with you. But, we didn't really have a laugh. And that's something I think would go a long way."

"It's the end of the world, Grantaire – 'having a laugh' isn't a priority" Enjolras stated coldly. Grantaire just kept his hand up, and to his surprise, enough hands followed that Marius was included in the next turn.

"Alright. That's one slot filled. Who's next?"