Arien's POV
And the only thing that came out of my mouth was:
"I'm going to the rooftop! Hehe."
Tavi and Favi looked at me sheepishly as I threw them a glare. Without a word, they stood up too, and the three of us made our way toward the rooftop.
In the hallways, clusters of students stood closely, their faces pressed to the windows, watching the streets below. Whispering, pointing, but not moving. With so many crowding the windows, trying to squeeze in for a look felt pointless. So, without a word, we kept walking — heading straight for the rooftop.
When we finally reached the rooftop and looked down, the streets below were in complete disarray. People moved like ants in a kicked nest — running, shouting, searching. Even after five hours, the panic hadn't calmed. If anything, it had grown louder. More desperate. I leaned in and spoke to Tavi and Favi in a low voice, telling them what I'd noticed earlier — the frozen hues of the sky, the colors that had stopped shifting. They didn't interrupt. Not because they were stunned — but because they had noticed it too.
And we weren't alone. Other students were scattered across the rooftop, all staring out or up, expressions uneasy. Whatever was happening, more than a few of us were starting to feel it in our bones.
Then it appeared.
A massive shadow spread across the open ground below.
But the field was empty — barren. No trees, no towers, no clouds heavy enough to cast something like that. So of course, Tavi had to say something.
"What kind of giant do you think is going to crawl out of that?" she asked, eyes fixed below.
"Well, hopefully not anything as big as you," Favi shot back, deadpan.
Tavi scoffed. "Favi, seriously? That's your comeback? Your EQ is still running on low power. No wonder you're single."
I sighed. "Tavi... he's single because he's not giant enough. Keep up."
That actually earned a laugh from her.
"Attaboy, Arien! I liked that one. Honestly, if the world is ending, we might as well go out flaming each other."
Favi smirked faintly. "Wasn't the apocalypse obvious, Tavi? Or did your brain forget to log it in? And Arien—" he gave me a mock nod, "—nice burn. Unexpectedly cruel for you."
"Desperate times," I replied. "Besides, on what basis are we assuming the creature coming out of that shadow is a giant? Smaller things can be just as dangerous. Sometimes worse."
"Judge them by the size," Tavira declared, strangely proud of herself.
Before any of us could respond, someone nearby hollered — panic cutting clean through the rooftop murmur.
"Oh my—look! Everyone, look!"
We all turned. Two glowing orbs — one pure white, the other pitch black — were circling each other in tight loops over the center of the open ground. A series of steps — smooth, symmetrical, and unnervingly perfect — spiraled outward from the center, bridging the orbit to the land across the dark abyss. A misty barrier is formed around the orbit like a cocoon. Below all of this, a dark, perfectly circular abyss had formed — a black void etched into the earth, silent and absolute.
Then it got worse. Seven blinding cracks split open the sky — sharp, jagged like lightning, but suspended and glowing unnaturally. From each of them, five or six figures dropped, not falling, but descending. No one spoke now.
Even Tavira was silent — at least for now.
Few moments later,
"Do you think those guys would let us finish any last bucket list wishes?" she whispered beside me. I wanted to roll my eyes. Really, I did. But I was also afraid to blink — afraid to miss even a second of this. I mean, why look away now? It's not every day you get front-row seats to the end of the world. Five-star theatre. No refunds, no interval. And though it's a little late for introductions, I suppose you've got the gist of me by now:
Just your average college student. Introverted, comes with a standard four-member family pack, and a not-so-standard tendency for dark humor. Not the best time to break the fourth wall, I know, but hey — better now than never.
The figures descended and took their positions, forming a wide ring around the black abyss. One from each group stepped forward, ascending the spiral staircase that hovered above the void, each footstep eerily soundless. As they reached the orbit, one of them raised a hand, his presence sharper, heavier than the others. Let's call him One, for now. With a subtle motion, he cast something, not a gesture, not quite a word, and instantly, the two orbs halted mid-spin, frozen in perfect symmetry. At the same moment, the verses, the ones that had been riding the air for hours fell silent. Then One began to rise, slowly lifting above the rest. Tiny specks of glowing light flickered into existence around him, like fireflies caught in orbit.
And then he spoke. His voice echoed through the air.
"Hello, everyone or more precisely... Earthlings."