Auhtor's Note:

And here's the sixth chapter. I wasn't wrong, this site is kinda dying. Oh well, such is time.

Guest: Faceless user you little tease

Guilty as charged~ And I'm not ashamed of my wrongdoings, cliffhangers are just so fun! I hope this satiates some of the need to know.

As always, stay safe and hydrated.

Life could be a dream, life could be a dreeeeam

Doo-rooo-do-do, sh-boom

A comfort was all around my being, a piece of cotton candy dipped in honey and wrapped in silk. For once, everything was right.

Life could be a dream

No responsibilities, no worries, just me, me, and me. Warmth was present and so was its sibling, but the latter's domain was my face. I sniffed.

Life could be a dream

It had many meanings, an infinite of them to be exact. One's meaning can't be determined by birth, status or destiny. Someone used to tell me, someone close, that it wasn't just about living and dying.

Life could be a dream

It was precious, but it had a price. And sometimes the journey matters as much as the destination, for the path shapes the way to its end. It wasn't the time for complex thought, the-

Life could be a dream, sweetheaaaaart

The alarm clock awoke as well, eliminating any chance of returning to the sweet embrace of rest. Humming, a hand snuck out of the blanket to the electronic, gliding over the plastic surface to find the deactivation button atop. Once the beeping stopped, the arm returned to base, mission success.

Even if I couldn't lose my consciousness, it didn't mean I had to get up just yet. Hugging myself with the thick blanket, I shuddered as the cold caught up. The air conditioner has worked all night long. I wasn't paying the electric bill so I didn't give it much thought. Perhaps I should turn it off before I catch a cold, it wasn't the season for that.

Sending out the hand for another mission, I searched in the dark for the remote, yawning loudly for no one. Once my fingers pressed against silicone, I wrapped them around and brought the remote close to my face. Squinting, I remembered the power button being in the center. I pressed it.

With a beep, the cool air ceased invading my room. I had to get up before it warmed up. Reluctantly pushing the covers off, I sat up on the bed, scratching my chest as I yawned again. "Uhh… mmm…" Licking my teeth, I was struck by a touch of disgust. Yup, no more sleepy, time for the triple S routine.

Moving my feet in the air until I found the appropriate wear, I slipped on the kroks, leaving the haven on lazy knees. Rubbing my closed eyes, I blinked slowly, the crust in the corners hindering my useless vision. Beside the display on the AC and the horizontal sliver beneath the door to the outside, I was as blind as a bat, though not literally.

Working off muscle memory, I dragged my feet over to the other door, the cute rubber slippers resembling the head of a crocodile squeaking with every step. My hand wobbled towards the handle, the weight of my arm unlocking the mechanism. Pushing open the door, I flipped on the switch to the right, a glaring white blinding me.

Covering my eyes, I waited for them to adjust, visualizing the process for the morning. Usually, I didn't shave my face, baby genes, but today was a special day. Mainly, the hairs irritated me the night before. Lowering the hand, I trudged into the tiled room.

In front was a shower from wall to wall, a glass sliding door fogged for privacy. To the left was the toilet and the right had the sink with all the necessities. Reaching for the handle behind me, I closed the door. I ran a hand through my hair. Oily. Locking the door with the cleaner hand, I began.

The first S was self-explanatory, the flush went down the drain with the rest. Washing my hands, I then brushed my teeth. A bit of toothpaste was enough, half of the length of the brush itself, the commercials lied, shocker! For some reason, not many dentists tell patients how to actually clean their teeth. Flossing is important before sleep, hence the coiled plastic wire sitting beside the cup that held the brush and paste. Never forget the gums are just as important as the teeth.

Rinsing my mouth, I spat the foam, my tongue passing over the slick chompers. After another rinse for extra measure, I used half a shot of mouthwash to kill the rest of the germs. That 0.01% didn't matter, you can apply that to many things.

Once done, I turned to the second S; shaving. It had been a while since the last time, it could be avoided no longer. A handful of cream in my hand, I applied it to every part of my face below the eye line as far as my Adam's apple.

"Ho ho ho, bitch," I cleared my throat, spitting a yellow stain into the drain. I turned on the faucet again, this time warming the water. When I felt it was enough, I wet the changeable blade under the stream and passed it over the right sideburn. With one pass, the pale skin was as smooth as the day I was born. Under the miniature waterfall and repeat.

Three minutes later, I was beautiful, in my eyes. A golden beard would've been cool, I could've passed for the final boss of the leprechauns. Returning the tools to their rightful places, I stripped down and entered the shower.

Now, I was no stranger to the heat. There was nothing like warmth seeping into the morning body. However, there was another type of shower, the middle ground didn't matter. The kind that separated boys from men was-

"AH! C-COLD!" I clenched my jaw, arching my back away from the brutal spray. My choice, so I couldn't complain much. The experience was a rush, the boost that sent me from "Huh? Huh? Huh?" to "I can see God." If I said it gets better, I'd be lying through my teeth.

Nevertheless, there was an enjoyable aspect of the masochist's shower. I remembered reading somewhere on the internet that it was good for the body and as mentioned it was quite the wake-up call. Squirting a bit of shampoo in my dominant hand, I went to work. By now, my hair had grown substantially. Back when I first woke up, it was a good ol' and reliable buzzcut, but after months of an absent GTA barber I was the semi-proud owner of shoulder-length, naturally slick hair. Dare I say, I could pass for a certain monotone youtuber I watched during middle school, hope he didn't change his style.

Rinsing my hair, I grabbed a sponge, a handful of bodywash the cherry on top. Like with toothpaste, the minimum amount required to complete the task was nowhere near intuition. I couldn't recall being taught how much to use, just how. Perhaps it was the saver in me doing the thinking, they better have kept their promise, those Benjamins must miss me too.

Ten or so minutes later, the water ceased, a drip falling into the drain. Sliding open the door, the mirror was as clear as the July sky. A towel two thirds my height in height and a third in width hung on the close wall, the white synthetic wool fresh every day. I dried myself off, especially in the hairier areas, can't imagine how tough it is to be bigfoot.

Once the soles of my feet were done, I wrapped the towel around my waist, slipping into the kroks before re-entering the main room. "Ah~ Much better," Slicking my hair back, I realized I'd forgotten to ask for a comb, better yet a barber, "eh, later.

On the other side of the bathroom was a simple closet, nothing grand or decorative, oak wood by my guess. Opening the storage unit, neither were its contents different. Five sets of white rested on their levels, logically too. Shirts at the top, pants and boxers in the middle, and socks at the bottom, though I rarely used the last one with these babies. They looked so silly.

Grabbing one of each I needed, I threw the towel onto the bed before swiftly regaining decency. Dull as always, per the norm. I then returned the towel to the hanger and smoothened out the wrinkles in the sheets, the cleaners appreciated that. By then, the air was tolerably cool, the ventilation was a must when so deep underground.

"There… done…" I stepped away from the bed, admiring my handiwork. Well, it was still dark. Deadpanning at myself, I moved to the exit, flipping the switch. A splash of light blasted my eyes, another adjustment was due. I had one near the bed! Stupid.

I hummed, my vocal cords rattling. There wasn't much left to do but wait. I knew the layout of this floor like the back of my hand, the cafeteria, the dozen restrooms, the coolers, the medical centers, the lifts, even the dead ends as few as they were. There wasn't a corner I hadn't explored in boredom or company.

Three knocks hit the door, polite and timely as ever. And it wasn't like I couldn't just leave, the door was open all the time.

The handle turned, revealing a familiar harpy eagle at the door, "Good morning, Johnny."

"Morning…" I rubbed an eye, suppressing a yawn.

"Did you sleep well?" She opened the door all the way, stepping aside.

"Yeah, yeah, still tired though," I quietly thanked her, exiting.

"Breakfast?"

"Breakfast," I chuckled, walking beside her. Her attire was similar to mine; nothing special. Plain sleeve shirt and gray pants, a pair of sports shoes with a winged logo on the outer sides.

After turning the first corner, I saw the error I'd just made, "what about you?"

"Hmm?"

"How'd you sleep?"

"Fine…"

"Work?" The edges of her beak curled upwards, not the beak itself, but the skin beneath the feathers. "I see…"

"Did you work? Before the… experiment?" Another corner passed us, a faceless animal nothing more than a background character.

"No, I was still in school. Hey, I wanted to talk to you about it," just that, "I keep forgetting," I added bashfully, rubbing my fingertips against the palm.

"It's okay, some thoughts slip away… one time I forgot to record a conversation we had, the higher-ups didn't let that one go so easily…" Her tone shifted, I didn't like that.

"What do they know? All they do is sit on their butts in a cooled office. I'm sure it wasn't important if you forgot," I patted her lower back, spotting the double doors at the end of the hallway.

"... Yeah."

Entering the cafeteria, little eyes stalked me, an improvement nonetheless. The mornings weren't popular amongst the staff that stayed in the facility, not that I complained or blamed. It was the first and most crucial meal of the day, but either they didn't care or had other means of satiating hunger. On the bright side, a third of the maximum capacity was present, the less the better.

Slight movement winked at me from the corner of my eye. It was one of the lunch ladies waving at me. I mirrored the gesture, approaching her with a kind smile.

"Good morning…" I bit my inner lower lip, her name lost to me.

"Good morning, Johnny-kun! The usual?"

I scoffed, "Usual? What is there? Omelets?"

"Aha~ And tofu strips," I withheld a blegh, but if I wasn't wrong…

"Oooh, nice, thank you-" she placed a tray on the counter, the goods practically steaming.

"Here you go, no juice though, sorry," she meekly shuffled.

"No biggie. But… you don't have to go this length for me, I'm fine with standing in line, not that I don't appreciate this!"

"Someone of your status shouldn't have to wait," I misheard her, some words had different meanings depending on the context and pronunciation.

I sighed, commandeering the tray, "Well, thank you anyhow, do you- never mind, stupid question…"

"What? What!?" Jesus, lady…

"I was going to ask if you got food for free, but… now you see," I looked away, a tad embarrassed, "I should get going… thanks, again." I left her to her own devices, her reaction having startled me. She was an odd ball here and there, no harm, no foul.

Searching all around the block for my avian ally, I found her at the island of loneliness, my kind of woman! In spite of the state of the cafeteria, she still chose our table. Instead of sneaking between them, I chose the long route. Up to the edge, b-line to her. Usually, the bigger animals would occupy the wider edges. And there she was, her meal untouched.

Sitting down facing her, I grabbed a few tissues from a small dispensary nearby, each piece a neat square. Handing her a few, I grabbed a fork and dug in. She did as well. The omelets were nice, could use more salt. The salad was bland but well-oiled, not much there. But the tofu bacon…

What the fuck is this? It was terrible! Regular tofu was… edible. But whatever that was had to be stopped! Next time I cross a cook, I'll let them have a piece of my mind, reasonably. Folding a napkin into my palm, I dropped the chewed rubber into the pit, concealing it within the thin paper.

"Not to your liking?" She swallowed, taking a sip of her glass.

"Ew. Just ew. I rather… I won't' disgust you now, later, maybe," I giggled inward, even though she was a predator, beating around the bush wasn't an easy endeavor for any animal. Weaklings! I used to go with my mother to a bazaar for meat! Silly thoughts. They are walking, talking animals who exist without a given reason but evolution.

Discarding the slippery slope above, I separated the good stuff from the bad stuff. Can't go wrong with an egg, I suppose. The next thing I knew, our trays were empty and headed to the cheering stack in the center, the trolley holding the trash within and the tray crown like that one Greek dude who wronged the gods, as in the gods with a fragile ego came upon a little bit of trolling, like the other guy with the fire.

Depositing the trays, we were about to resume our walk when Miya's phone rang. Answering the call, she replied curtly. "Yes…?" Followed by, "No… yes… right away…" Hanging up the call, she said a funny word under her breath regarding the animal on the other side, but slang was still unfamiliar to me. She refused to teach me those words, though the doctor wasn't as strong-minded as her.

"Well?" I asked.

"It's time."

"Oh."

She nodded, but I knew what I was getting into. It slipped my mind, many things do. "Man, I wonder what they want," I tried to chuckle, keyword tried. Now it was awkward and I didn't get why.

There was nothing wrong with helping out those in need, especially when they ask. However, I couldn't just shrug off the regret that flashed in her eyes. Why oh why? Do you have to say goodbye- not the time.

For the time, being in a public space and all, I kept quiet. When the moment presented itself I'd ask her the questions I had and answer hers if she had any. There were things I hadn't told a soul, things about myself.

"Hey," I grabbed her attention as we left the cafeteria, two thirds a hum and the rest a chirp from her, "how long do you think this will take? An hour? Two?"

She smiled, "Three at best. Five at worst."

„Fuuuuck," I bemoaned, realizing a second later it meant nothing to her. No, she noticed it had a negative undertone, the clever girl. "I'll manage, it'll be fiiiine, right?"

Her hand touched the back of my head, gently ruffling the hairs, "You will."

I, in fact, did not manage.

When pleasantries were out of the way, too much bowing and san for me, Miya shortly explained what my objective was as if I hadn't known prior. The conference room reminded me of the oval one in the White House, the long table taking up a third of the floor's surface area in said shape and the ten researchers spread out around to their choosing. A group of three on the right, two on the left, another two beside me and another one to Miya's left. Papers spread across, a coffee mug cold and contaminated, a drop spilled onto a sheet beneath.

What I had to do was simply, in one word, translate. One word! One fucking word! Listen to what was said in the projected video or audio and explain. Naturally, I wondered why and how they recovered anything from the wreckage, why I was in a spaceship in the first place, but already knew the answers; they didn't know themselves or didn't want to tell me.

Why did it have to be so difficult? It was easy, even I didn't know what splendid or exorbitant equaled to in their language, I had the arsenal to convey a similar meaning in the words of a child. Silly as it might have been, it worked.

What didn't work was sitting in the same chair, however cushioned, for three hours! I got up from time to time to stretch my legs, take a leak, accompanied by Miya who'd wait outside, snack on some chips, but all of those took up fifteen minutes in total. I underestimated just how boring it could be to convince a group of know-it-alls that all a file was nothing but paint drying on a wall. Whoever put that in the cache, I hope you know I hate your guts but respect the dedication. It was funny in retrospect.

Nevertheless, there were some highlights worth mentioning. The first of them was of a guy filming himself in a zoo, talking about being in a zoo. Classic. Left a bad taste when I had to go over every little detail, but I couldn't make shit up on the spot! I was a professional bullshitter behind the safety of a screen! And for some reason the sphinx cat insisted there was something special about the dude, I swear she had a crush or something! That would've been so weird were it true. Next were a bunch of construction and airplane videos. Then, there was a jumpscare, not because it was scary, just sudden.

I'll admit, I overreacted earlier. It wasn't that bad translating. Watching the first episodes of Jackass whilst commentating was a spiritual experience, I could never do what they did. And the intro! That was something. The shocked, no, absolutely flabbergasted expressions were worth every question fired at the speed of light. I didn't think a compilation of some dudes doing wacky stuff was note-worthy, but they thought otherwise.

I hoped I was destined to spend the rest of the day watching the first season but fate had different plans. Once the episode and inquisitive afterparty ended, we were surprised by another jumpscare; a Caucasian fist slamming a slab of salmon, screaming obscenities at the cooker and its raw state. We can slander the British as much as we like, but game recognizes game.

What wasn't a game was explaining to the animals why they made a show about people cooking meat. The serenity lasted under ten seconds when one of them pointed out a man in the background slicing chicken strips, I assumed it was the breast too. The suspicious glances I received wounded me, so I fired back with the might of the doomed BFG.

They weren't the same. Eye for an eye, I asked, "How come the animals I remember had no sapience beyond instinct, but you guys have?" Something along those lines, without Miya's help I would've resulted in either refusing to continue until apology or spewing English insults I would've regretted later, or not, the sphinx had it coming.

Fortunately, two short videos later, one of which was an actual commercial for a new shoe design, was my savior. A nostalgic one. A man had set up a camera on a grass field, he sat on a stump to the right with nothing else to the left. He started playing the saxophone. Like magic, a herd of cows slowly trudged towards the noise, and they just stood there, basking in the music. That was all the proof they needed, and it only raised more questions. Funny, how it was one of the only videos without a word yet it's done the most damage. And there I was, exaggerating again, it wasn't that bad, just a lot of talking.

The next one was beautiful. It was recorded on a phone. Two guys were sitting on the beach, a pair of foldable chairs sunken into the sand. Cracking jokes here and there about life, politics, sex, personal affairs. The waves crashed some feet away, washing over their feet before swiftly retreating to the ocean. Whether it was the east or west coast will forever remain unknown, but it mattered little.

It wasn't a piece of invaluable information. It wasn't a coded secret. It was a memory. Their story untold. Two friends enjoying the sunset, making the best of their limited time on Earth. It nearly brought a tear to my eye. Still, we had to move on.

Next was a short video about six seconds long of an old man laughing and exclaiming with pride how his "wee wee" goes "boing boing". Did I burst out loud with laughter of my own? Yup. Did I go into detail why? Nope. "It's a silly joke" sufficed. To add salt to the wound, the next was another classic. A German man in a speedo kneeling, pointing to himself, to the sky, saying something unintelligible about motherfuckers before jumping into the pool. He didn't break the ice. I snickered a little, hiding my smile with an open hand, aggravated further by the giggling of the other guy recording and the jumper's pained moans as well as the last shot of him lying on the ice as if sunbathing. It even got a few to chuckle alongside me, the man failed to break the ice, but the video didn't! Perhaps it really wasn't all bad.

„Two, one, zero, all engines running…" A male announcer spoke, a white rocket igniting its thrusters. The quality was terrible, but that was a different time.

„Liftoff. We have a liftoff! Thirty two minutes past the hour. Liftoff on Apollo Eleven." The rocket went into the clear sky, the shot quickly changing to one of a spaceship approaching gray, rocky ground. The announcer kept commenting on the details, the height left to fall, the rate of the descent, a little to the right. The camera wobbled from side to side, the entire screen going black upon touchdown.

Then, light returned. The view steered up, alien terrain expanding. Much chatter all the while. Above the nonexistent horizon was nothing. The next shot is of a white space suit falling down to the ground, amazingly slower than what gravity should've been. A shadow the spaceship cast upon the surface, the suit in the left bottom corner fiddling with something. A white boot stepped on the ground, a radio clicked.

„That's one small step for man… one… giant leap for mankind."

The next shot was of an astronaut driving a space rover with the joy of a child.

The next was of one of them jumping around, singing a tune that made me chortle.

The final was of the landing craft breaking into two and launching the astronauts back into space.

I lied, it was bad.

For the next half an hour I had to politely elaborate on what the animals in the room had just seen. It was a canon event anyway, so I did to the best of my abilities. There was the Space Race, the Cold War, and the American last minute burst to the finish line. I had already told Miya of what I knew about the war and the States, but the race… not so much.

And it wasn't like it was rocket science! We sent some dudes on what was possibly a mission without return only to prove we could do it. In the same century, there were fictional novels about reaching the stars, and in that same century we realized them. That goes to show the power of Mankind when we set our minds to a cause, but for some reason they couldn't accept it!

Right, because apparently, they never went to the moon. The further they had ever gone was space, in orbit that is. Anything beyond was deemed mad but that only added fuel to the fire. We were a mad race, after all.

I asked, "Why didn't you do it?"

I got a reply from the sphinx, "Why would we?"

"Why not?" She stared in puzzlement before shaking her head, muttering under her breath, "If you don't believe me, use a satellite to find the landing site." That was definitely noted.

When they kept asking for more details and I repeated what I knew, they frustratingly agreed to move to the next video, though not before a fifteen minute break. I needed that. Some left, some stayed. We stayed.

"So," I stretched my arms above, earning the popping of joints, "when's lunch?"

Miya snapped out of her trance, massaging the side of her head, "We…" she groaned, shaking away the fatigue, "we missed it… sorry."

„Dang it." I tsked, "I thought you were paying attention."

"I was!" She lowered her voice, "I was, but they don't know when to shut uuuup." She learned closer, whispering, "I don't think they planned."

I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow, "I thought… You didn't know?"

She shrugged, "Only what I told you. Why rush this? My guess is as good as yours."

I looked forward to the empty projector. A white square on the dark wall, a touch fuzzy if I squinted my eyes hard. I could think of a few reasons, all of them were flawed. Urgency? We got all the time in the world. Value? Of what? Cute cat videos and harmless pranks? Incompetence? Most likely.

"I say…" grabbing her attention, I continued, "they sent the new guys for field training, if you catch my drift," she stifled a giggle, seeing as one of them was fiddling with the controls of the projector.

"Good point, I just didn't think they'd treat this so lightly."

"And another thing! Why was it so random?"

I've been meaning to ask that since the first hour. I didn't dislike watching Steve and the gang hurt themselves for the sake of entertainment, deceased memes, or the everyday life of a dude who feeds hummingbirds, the cute critters. There was no order to the files. You'd think they categorized the gazillia-bytes upon gazillia-bytes of information, but nope! One moment you're bawling your eyes out to Titanic, not that I would, trash movie, the next you're watching in anticipation as a clown fires himself from a party cannon.

"Did they find it like this or…?" I asked her, her eyes looking up in thought before responding.

"I think so. They're playing the files as is, no alteration."

"Huh," I relaxed into the seat, tightening my crossed arms, "that's so… weird." One of the researchers announced the arrival of the next video, the issue was resolved. I was starting to get bored for real.

As the last animal sits down, the projector returns to the land of the living. New material! A commercial?! Cringe. Who in their right mind would want to preserve spam? Besides the canned stuff. I glanced at Miya with a shrug, throwing a comment into the air about how stupid the video was and that we should skip it. A woman in a blue dress was presenting a car, something something hybrid electrical something something environmentally safe blah blah blah give us your money. As the car took off into the sunset and the company's name appeared on the screen, it faded to black. That was quick, I wondered what the next video would be.

„Breaking news!" A man proclaimed, the station's intro starting.

I heard a whisper, my focus darting from each individual to find the culprit. Lucky, they repeated, "I didn't press anything…" It was the operator of the projector. What?

The next shot was of a podium, a lectern full of microphones of various popular channels. Behind the speaker was the American flag to the right and an unrecognizable one to the left, most likely of the state it was aired in. One small issue; there was no speaker. In fact, there was no one. No sound came after the trumpet ceased.

The animals looked to me for an answer, an explanation. After giving it some consideration, I replied earnestly, "I got no fucking clue." I felt Miya's glare dig into my side. Oops, profanity.

Suddenly, a beep blasted through the speakers, a black flash followed by the station's logo. A text underneath apologized for the interruption. Then, another black screen. I had a bad feeling, but I didn't voice it. I was too entranced by what the video withheld.

„Normal programming has been interrupted at the request of the US government. Everyone receiving this broadcast should pay close attention. The Information contained in this broadcast is vital to your safety. Please standby." An automated female speaker announced, the seed of dread sinking into my heart.

"Johnny-san? What is this?" One of the researchers asked, a strange expression on his long muzzle.

"I- I'm not sure. Some sort of emergency?" I replied. It wasn't unusual, probably an earthquake or tornado. "Probably one of those videos, y'know?" Just as he opened his maw to continue, the loud beep interrupted him. The screen was no longer empty. The darkest gray accented by white text.

I gaped, my heart dropping. Miya noticed right away, "Johnny? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

„Oh shit…" I breathed, my arms falling to my lap.

"Johnny? W-what is it?"

"It… it's th…" I took a deep breath, "It's the Emergency Alert System. Not good." Not good at all.

That was the title at the top. Below was a white line stretching from end to end horizontally, black text moving into view. "This is not a test. The U.S. Government has issued a NATIONAL EMERGENCY. Emergency Action Notification Message. Effective until further notice." I read aloud, a terrible illness befalling my soul. I wanted to vomit, but I was nowhere near that edge. Perhaps it was a nuclear test? A hoax? It was so… authentic. Like the time the people of Hawaii had that incident, that goes to show the government can make mistakes too.

Below the moving line of text was the same message; the government has issued a national emergency.

„The Emergency Alert System has been activated. This is a national emergency. All broadcast and cable systems shall transmit this emergency action notification message. Important instructions vital to your safety will follow," it was a man this time, computer-made all the same.

„What the fuck, what the fuck, man…" Sweat dripped down my face, my eyes locked onto the screen.

The researchers demanded to know what was being said, but it didn't register. Miya did. "Johnny? You're worrying me, if it's too much I'll turn it off, okay?" I gave her a nod, forgetting the action the next moment.

Three soft beeps, a longer one. Three, one. Three. One.

„The following message is transmitted at the request of the United States government. This is not a test," the voice repeated. Not a test? Not a test? My breath drew shorter and shorter by the beep.

„The United States has been subjected to insert event here. The North American insert administrative organization here has optional insert number here. Additional information here."

I stared at the wall, "... Whaaaat?" Correction, „The fuck?" I gaped at the grammatical abomination. If it was a test, there was no way they would air this. It had to be a joke or something!

At the bottom of the text were two numbers with a slash separating them. The right one was, well, one. And the one on the left was four.

The next slider was a map of the States, below California and New Mexico outlined separately were Alaska and Hawaii. The voice had gone silent. It was just a map and nothing else.

"J-johnny? What is going on?" There was another voice, a pleasant one at least.

I racked my skull for an answer, giving up after a heartbeat, "I don't know."

The third slider had the title at the top and nothing more. Never mind, there was a smaller test in the middle. Depending on the type of event, provide more information. Example: Tsunami means coastal cities. Tornado means East Coastal and inland.

It wasn't right, not just the gross spit in my mouth. I didn't know what to think of this, not that any other being present had a better idea. They kept looking at me, any inquiries however desperate left to dry out in the sun. I just couldn't get it off my chest and when I tried the air escaped me. Miya was hesitant to touch me, and I wasn't sure if that was good or bad. This was fake. It had to be. It was.

„Make sure-" and there was the fourth slider, "-you have enough food, drink, and a battery-operated radio. Wait until the all-clear has been given before returning to normal," the weird just didn't want to end. That didn't sound right, all of this didn't! But the last sentence in particular was so… off. Generalized.

And he wasn't done just yet, "Do not use your telephone; the lines should be kept open in case of an emergency. Tune in to a station that is serving your area for more information. The president will address the nation on all radio and television stations shortly," the presentation ended, the simple black and white screen back in full-force. „Stand by for this message, this is a national emergency."

"JOHNNY!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin, as if my heart hadn't had enough.

„Jesus!" I glared at the screamer, my anger softening at her identity, "Miya, you… oh…" I'd ignored them and they didn't look happy. She was the only one worried for me.

Before she could say what she wanted, I told them what was about to happen, "The president is going to address this national emergency, I'm unfamiliar with it, and it's my president if you're confused."

"No, Johnny, listen-"

The darkness was challenged. A glow illuminated the room, a sweet tangerine made bitter by the silence. A deafening silence. The projection was of a small podium, a lectern in the middle with twin flags propped up the poles behind the speaker. The suit was ironed to perfection, not a fold on the flat parts.

All of that hard work ruined by the fire. The wooden stage was set ablaze, the flames rising as high as the lectern. The left flag was burned to a crisp while the other was clinging on to a promised wind. Amber flakes fell onto the camera, some sticking, some not. Behind the lectern laid the fallen suit, dirtied by ash and flesh. Melted flesh.

A charring skeleton gazed at the sky, the jaw locked open in an eternal scream. Through forming holes in the cloth I saw the last of the biomass dissolve before my eyes. Skin disintegrated, muscle liquified, bones blackened. A pool of many red shades formed under the suit, further staining the once-beautiful article. The body was at peace, not because the soul was, but because there were no ligaments to keep the joints in their original place postmortem.

I didn't hear the collective gasps. I didn't smell the lunch expelled onto the floor nor the cries and aggressive reactions. I didn't feel the tightening of my stomach, the sweat traveling down my torso or the hand on my shoulder. Only my eyes worked. The sweet tangerine had expired, the sugar rush was a lie. My lips were so dry, every breath sending a sharp stab through my heart. I blinked. I blinked again. And again. The image remained.

The body laid still on the warm floor. The skull transformed into a block of unrecognizable coal. The sole string of humanity left under the crumbling suit was the outline. By then, static plagued the camera, strange noises buzzing out of the speakers. A metallic snap pulled me out before dunking me back in, a blur of red changing into a friendly color; blue.

Around the edges of the screen was a glow of lava, but in the center was the sky. I was wrong, there was a wind in the now open roof. Broken rebar stuck out like traumatized limbs, a saving grace in the center. Blue, dark blue, specks of white. Despite the heavy light pollution, the stars watched from heaven. It didn't make any sense. My head hurt. If one listened closely, they could hear car alarms going off outside the building, a police or an ambulance as well. The ambers caked the screen like snowfall, the noise becoming a singular ringing, every other second cut off with the flicker of the camera. Black. Sky. Black. Fire. Black. Stars.

And there was the moon, peeking behind the roof, the cheeky bastard. It was just as I remembered; an ancient satellite donning each crater like a medal. It was partially crescent too, a third invisible to the naked eye.

Suddenly, the camera flickered on and off wildly, the pitch of the noise too high for my ears to process, if the keeling of some of the researchers closing their ears meant anything. Then, it stopped. Darkness at last.

I sighed, straightening my back against the chair, "Is-" I coughed, hinting at a sob. Rehydrating my throat after passing saliva back and forth, I asked, softly, "Is it over?"

Immediately, "Y-yeah, i-it is," Miya replied, a hand over her beak, tears trailing down her fuzzy cheeks.

I reached out to her, her shoulder jolting upon contact. She snapped towards me, her bloodshot eyes boring into my soul. Surprise flashed within them, the following tears for a different reason.

"J.. Johnny?"

"Hmm?"

"Why… you... so calm?"

"I am?" My heart was in my ears, each flex echoing after the other. "I don't feel so good…" I took a deep breath.

"W-what? Johnny?"

"I'm… tired…" My hand fell away, a greater absence of light blinding me.

Nothing. No sense. An impact. A scream.