My head felt heavy.
Like something was pressing down on it.
The air smelt stale—thick and dry. Dust scratched my throat as it filled my lungs.
I swallowed.
It was painful—my mouth was drier than a bone.
Then I opened my eyes slowly.
Vision faded in.
Blurred shapes.
Muted colours.
Moulding into focus.
The room was a clean white. The ceiling that I stared up at was cracked. Panels dangled on cables; some were snapped. Bright lights flickered.
I rose, placing one palm on the black carpet. My arm trembled.
Desks lined up in rows with black plastic seats. Some were placed against the door.
"A barricade—?" I whispered.
A groan interrupted me from behind. It was soft—a gentle, tired sound.
I turned my head.
Krista.
Sitting up against the wall, head drooping.
Fast asleep.
She looked peaceful—beautiful.
My shoulders loosened.
She raised her head up—leaned against the wall. It tilted to the side. Hair flowed over her face. She was dusted in a layer of soot, as though she'd just come from a building site.
My brow lowered.
Krista stirred suddenly.
Brows furrowed.
Her eyes cracked open—
then widened.
"George?"
"Morning, sleepy—"
She lunged forward and wrapped her arms around me.
"You're alive," she squeezed tighter. "Oh my god—you're alive"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said, "what's wrong—what happened?"
She moved back—looked me deep in the eyes.
Snorted.
But then her face began to tense slightly.
My brows lowered.
I looked around at the classroom once more.
I began to notice that there were more people in the room, each lining the walls.
Groups of two.
Three.
One.
Some were whispering.
Some silent.
Some were not moving at all—heads buried in their knees.
It was wrong.
It was too quiet.
"Krista…?" I paused.
"What happened?"
She hesitated.
She tried to look anywhere but my eyes.
"They… came back."
My breath caught.
"It's everywhere—it's not like before, it's—"
THUD!
The ground shook violently.
Dust fell.
Someone screamed.
"We're gonna die… We're gonna die… We're—"
A woman in the corner mumbled.
Over.
And over.
And over again.
I didn't answer.
I didn't move.
Just listened.
"George?"
Krista's voice felt muted—distant.
Everything felt so far away.
Are you there…
God?
Nothing.
Is this part of the trial?
Silence.
"George?" Krista asked again, "You okay—?"
"I need to go… to the bathroom."
She blinked.
"What?"
"I'll be back in a minute."
I stood up.
Walked past them—
people crying.
I dragged the table barricading the door.
I felt a hand grip my wrist tightly.
"What are you doing?!"
I looked at them.
A young woman—a student.
Eyes glossy—face red and puffy.
I didn't respond.
I carried on dragging the table.
"No," she mumbled shakily, "they'll kill us."
I swallowed before crouching down in front of her.
I grabbed her shoulders.
"It's okay," I said softly, "you know that purple entity?"
She nodded.
"He'll save us. Just like before."
She was silent.
But I felt her shoulders loosen.
I let go.
Dragged the table.
Left the room.
The corridor was no different.
The piping in the ceiling was exposed—a design choice—split open. Water trickled down, patting against the ground.
My shoes crunched on broken glass littering the vinyl floors.
Broken doors.
Smashed windows.
Walls caved in.
The corridors I'd walked through countless times—once normal—now looked aged, like a building that had been long abandoned.
Murmurs, whispers and cries reverberated off the walls.
People lined the walls.
Crying.
Praying.
Bleeding.
I walked past them.
Like they weren't there.
My heart felt hollow—like a stake was being driven through it.
I clenched my jaw.
The toilets were at the end of the corridor.
There were four of them. The doors barely hung onto their hinges.
I picked the most stable-looking one and pushed it open.
It creaked.
I closed it behind me.
Click—locked.
It was a small space.
White walls—cracked—and grey vinyl floors surrounded me. The bottom half of the wall was tiled in dark blue.
A toilet sat at the end—still clean. On the wall to my left, there was a sink below a mirror, a soap dispenser and a hand dryer beside it.
I braced my hands on the sink basin, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
I felt a sense of deja vu.
Why's it always a bathroom?
I looked at my reflection. There was some soot on my face—small patches of grey and brown over a layer of dust. I dropped my head into the sink and splashed water on my face.
I cleared my throat.
"Where are you?" I whispered.
No response.
The room was dead silent.
I clenched my fist.
"DAMMIT!" I slammed my fist on the basin.
The hand dryer blew—a loud hum filled the room.
The yell reverberated for a second.
Then everything faded back to painful silence.
"What's going on?" My voice turned shallow.
"This isn't what I wanted…"
"I just… wanted to stop being an arsehole—stop…"
"wasting my life away."
"But this…"
"It's…"
"Too much"
THUD!
The room shook—dust showered down.
I clenched my jaw.
Closed my eyes.
I took a deep breath—slow.
Exhaled—slow.
I tried to reach that feeling—that fire.
The power.
The thing that could end all of this.
But nothing happened.
"What's going on?" I whispered.
My head dropped, eyes shut. I felt a sudden tickle along my hand.
I frowned—looked down.
Something crawled along my hand.
Metallic.
Four legs tickling my skin as it walked.
It looked like a chrome ball on legs—the size of a coin.
I froze.
"…what the—"
It moved quickly—but deliberately. Like it knew I was watching, it crawled around my hand—up my arm.
I jolted—smacked it off my arm out of pure instinct.
It felt… wrong.
It hit the vinyl floor—a quiet tap as it bounced up, onto its legs, before scurrying behind the toilet.
"There's something very fucking wrong with that thing—"
As if on cue—
I heard scraping.
From inside the walls—behind them.
Then another.
And another.
Everywhere.
I stepped back—my eyes darted everywhere.
Tiny legs slipped through cracks. They scraped along the walls, dozens of them.
They didn't rush.
They moved deliberately—
in perfect synchronicity.
I was frozen solid.
The rhythm of the crawling plunged my brain into overdrive.
I felt a tickle slowly progress up my arm—another spider.
I threw it off.
Then I felt it on my legs.
Multiple.
Crawling.
I shuddered.
I spun, barged the door open—kicking the spiders off as I ran.
As soon as I opened the door, it was chaos.
They were in the corridors, scurrying along the walls. The halls were filled with screams of terror and the tapping of numerous small legs.
I ran back to the classroom.
What if they hurt Krista?
My feet slammed against the floor, crunching on the metal spiders.
The scratching grew louder.
One of them climbed the wall.
Paused.
Then jumped—
CRUNCH.
A tyre rolled over it as it zoomed down the empty streets.
Kaoru slammed his foot down.
The van surged forward—leaping over a roundabout.
They closed in on the University campus on the right.
A large courtyard stretched out before the main building. The fountain in the centre was left in ruins.
Gunfire was exchanged between MEI agents and aliens on either side of the courtyard. The aliens had fortified the perimeter of the campus—thick metal barricades lined up in rows.
Miko peeked through the window up front.
"Why are they fortifying in the University?"
Aiko squeezed in next to her.
"Maybe we're winning… they're on the defensive"
"There's probably still students trapped inside," Kaoru said.
Himiko placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Then we go get them."