Nox woke to the sound of laughter.

It wasn't the screaming he’d grown used to, nor the rhythmic, desperate chanting of prayer. It was just... laughing. For a long moment, he kept his eyes squeezed shut. In his first life, mornings didn't sound like this; they sounded like the shrill bite of an alarm or the heavy, suffocating weight of total silence.

When he finally opened them, he didn't see a sky choked with ashes. He saw a white ceiling. A dorm room. Sunlight was bleeding through thin, cheap curtains, casting a warm glow over a space that shouldn't exist anymore. No smoke. No distant sirens.

He sat up slowly, his body feeling profoundly wrong. It was too light, too whole. When he swung his legs off the bed, he nearly hit the floor, his balance betrayed by a lack of familiar aches.

"...What?"

He stumbled toward the mirror. The face staring back was younger, the edges softened by sleep rather than carved by five years of looking over his shoulder. The faint scar at his collarbone was gone. He reached up, calloused fingers—no, soft fingers—tracing a jawline that hadn't yet learned to stay set in a permanent scowl.

Twenty-one. His stomach dropped.

He lunged for his phone. The screen flickered to life: February 15. He stared at the date until the numbers blurred, then checked the year. His throat tightened, a physical knot forming as the reality hit him.

March 18. 11:43 a.m. He’d never forget that minute. It was the moment the sky froze, the Voice spoke, and the world broke.

He lowered the phone. Thirty-one days until the Awakening. Five years until the end of everything.

The device buzzed in his hand, making him flinch violently. A notification banner slid down.

     Aurora (7)

He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the glass before he tapped it open.

     Mira: WHO ATE MY NOODLES?!
     Garrick: Check your fridge.
     Mira: I DID!!!
     Seris: Did you check the part where you left them out overnight?
     Mira: I am being attacked.
     Kaida: Food is temporary. Existence is fleeting.
     Lucien: Breakfast downstairs in 5.

Nox stared at Lucien’s name until the screen timed out. Another buzz. A private message this time.

     Lucien: You dead?

Nox almost laughed. It was a jagged, hysterical sound that died in his throat. Before he could find the words to respond, three steady taps sounded at his door.

“Nox.”

His chest constricted. That voice—it was warm, steady, and completely unbroken.

“You’re gonna oversleep again, man.”

Nox forced his legs to move, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He wrenched the door open. Lucien was standing there in a half-zipped hoodie, his hair a mess, looking exactly like a guy who’d just rolled out of bed.

“You look like a ghost,” Lucien said, his brow furrowing instantly. “Did you pull an all-nighter?”

Nox just stared. He remembered blood on those hands. He remembered the exact moment the light in those eyes had gone dim.

“Okay... that’s a long stare,” Lucien muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

“You’re loud,” Nox whispered.

Lucien blinked. “That’s not an answer.”

“You’re just... loud,” Nox repeated, his voice stronger now.

Lucien leaned in, dropping his voice with genuine concern. “Are you actually sick?”

Nox brushed past him into the hallway, needing the movement to keep from crumbling. “I’m fine.”

“You’re never 'fine' when you say it like that.”

__

Further down the corridor, Mira exploded out of her room brandishing an empty plastic container. “WHO COMMITTED THIS CRIME?”

Garrick was just coming up the stairs with grocery bags. “You did.”

“I am a victim of theft!”

“You’re the perpetrator of your own misfortune,” Seris added, walking out behind her.

Kaida leaned against the wall, eyes half-closed. “Morally ambiguous, at best.”

Orion stood at the railing, watching the chaos like a bored documentarian. He glanced at Nox, then paused. “You look different.”

“See?” Lucien pointed a finger at Nox. “I told you.”

“You did not,” Nox countered.

“I was getting there.”

Mira squinted at Nox dramatically. “Why are you looking at us like that? Did you join a cult overnight?”

“Not yet,” Kaida deadpanned.

Nox took a slow, shuddering breath. They were so vibrant, so blissfully unaware, that it physically hurt to look at them.

“Breakfast,” Garrick announced, lifting the groceries. “Before Mira declares war on the floor.”

“Too late. War is declared,” she huffed.

As they headed for the stairs, Lucien fell into step beside Nox. “You’re really okay?” he asked, his voice dropping so the others wouldn't hear.

Nox didn't look at him. March 18 was screaming in the back of his mind. He could tell them. He could warn them all right now. But he didn't.

“Yes,” he said.

Lucien’s shoulder brushed his; a casual, accidental contact that felt like an electric shock to Nox’s system.

“Don’t disappear on me,” Lucien said suddenly.

Nox’s step faltered. “What?”

“You’ve got that look,” Lucien said, looking ahead. “Like you’re already somewhere else.”

Nox swallowed hard. “I’m here.”

Lucien searched his face for a beat longer than usual, then nodded. “...Good.”

__

Outside, the campus was a cacophony of normalcy. Students were rushing to midterms, someone was arguing about a grade on a cell phone, and music drifted from an open window. The sky was a painfully sharp blue.

Nox stopped for a second, squinting up. The light felt too thin, like a sheet of glass under too much pressure.

“Hey.” Lucien nudged him. “Stop zoning out.”

“Do you ever feel...” Nox started, then cut himself off.

“Feel what?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Never mind.”

Mira ran ahead toward the café doors. “If I don’t get caffeine in the next five minutes, I’m becoming a villain.”

“The transformation is already complete,” Seris called out.

Nox looked at the sky one last time. It didn’t flicker—not yet. But the clock was ticking. Thirty-one days.

He followed them inside. This time, he wouldn't let the fire take them.