The power flickered once that evening. Just a single, sharp heartbeat of darkness that brought the dorm lounge to a dead stop. When the lights hummed back to life, the air felt different, thinner, as if the building itself were holding its breath.

Mira clutched a throw pillow to her chest, her bravado sounding a little more forced than usual. "If the sky opens up again, I'm officially charging rent."

Garrick snorted, though his eyes remained on the window. "To who?"

"The sky, Garrick. Keep up."

Seris let out a long, weary sigh. "You're really not as funny as you think you are, Mira."

"I'm a comedic genius. You're just stressed."

Kaida didn't look up from her phone, her thumb scrolling at a frantic pace. "Social media is in a total spiral. People are posting videos of their electronics melting."

"Of course they are," Orion muttered, staring at his own hands as if expecting them to glow.

Lucien didn't join in. He sat on the edge of the couch, his focus entirely on Nox. It wasn't an open stare, but it wasn't subtle either, it was the look of someone trying to solve a puzzle that didn't want to be solved. Nox felt the weight of it, a prickle at the back of his neck.

He stood up abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor. "I'm going to the roof."

Mira gasped, her hand flying to her heart. "For some dramatic contemplation? Can I come and provide the soundtrack?"

"For air," Nox said shortly.

Lucien was already on his feet. "I'll come with you."

Nox didn't argue. He didn't think he could have stopped him even if he tried.

__

The roof was a different world. The rain had cleared out, leaving the concrete damp and smelling of wet stone and ozone. In the distance, the city lights blinked with a fragile, artificial glow, and the sky looked almost innocent; a deep, silent indigo.

Lucien walked to the railing and leaned his weight against it. "You really think it's coming back, don't you?" It wasn't a question anymore. He'd moved past the need for proof.

Nox stepped up beside him, the cool air hitting his face. "Yes."

"When?"

"Soon. Sooner than anyone is ready for."

Lucien nodded slowly, his gaze drifting over the skyline. "Then we should probably enjoy this while we can."

Nox glanced at him, his brow furrowing. "Enjoy what?"

"This. The boredom. The silence. The parts where we don't have to worry about the sky breaking."

Nox looked out over the campus. He remembered this view from his first life; the way the library tower looked at night, the flicker of the streetlamps. Back then, he hadn't known how quickly it could all be taken away. "I don't want to waste any more time," he said quietly.

Lucien's voice softened, losing its usual edge. "Being here with me isn't wasting time, Nox."

Nox didn't have a reply for that. The sincerity in Lucien's voice was harder to handle than his sarcasm.

Lucien turned slightly, his shoulder brushing against Nox's. "You're not trying to save the world, are you?"

Nox's jaw tightened. "No."

"You're just trying to save us."

The observation hit too close to home. Nox looked at him sharply, expecting to see a joke, but Lucien's expression was dead serious.

"You've been training me like you're preparing me for a war," Lucien continued. "Like you're scared I can't handle whatever is behind that seam."

"I think you carry too much on your own," Nox countered.

Lucien laughed, a soft, dry sound. "That's ironic, coming from you."

They stood shoulder to shoulder, the warmth from Lucien's body bleeding through their jackets. Below them, the city hummed with a life that felt increasingly temporary. Lucien tilted his head, watching the way the wind caught Nox's hair.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You usually do without asking permission first."

"Answer it anyway."

Nox almost smiled. Almost. "Go ahead."

Lucien's voice dropped to a private whisper. "If things go south... and you have to make a choice..."

Nox felt a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the wind. "A choice about what?"

"Between protecting me or protecting everyone else."

The question was a trap, loaded with the weight of a future Lucien couldn't see. Nox didn't hesitate; the answer had been carved into his soul for five years. "You're not separate from everyone else, Lucien."

"That's an escape. Answer the question."

Nox turned to face him fully, his eyes dark with a fierce, desperate certainty. "If I have to choose," he said, his voice low and unwavering, "I won't lose you."

Lucien went very still. The distant noise of the city seemed to pull away, leaving them in a vacuum of silence. "That's not fair," he said softly.

"Why?"

"Because I would choose you, too. And you're going to make that very difficult, aren't you?"

The words settled between them, heavy with a meaning they weren't ready to name. Lucien stepped closer, so close their foreheads almost touched. Nox could smell the faint scent of coffee and rain on him.

"You don't get to be the only one doing the protecting, Nox."

Nox's voice was barely a breath. "And you don't get to die first."

Lucien's breath hitched, a sharp intake of air. "...What?"

Nox felt the blood drain from his face. He'd said too much. He'd let the past bleed into the present. He tried to look away, but Lucien didn't move an inch.

"Die first?" Lucien repeated, his voice hushed. "What the hell does that mean?"

Nox forced his voice to remain steady, though his heart was hammering against his ribs. "I mean—don't be a hero. Don't rush in blindly and leave the rest of us behind."

Lucien searched his face, his eyes narrowed as if he were trying to read the memories hidden behind Nox's pupils. "You talk like you've already seen it happen."

Nox didn't answer. He couldn't.

Lucien's hand lifted instinctively, hovering for a second before resting lightly against Nox's wrist. He didn't grip it; he just touched the skin, a grounding presence in the dark. "You're shaking, Nox."

Nox hadn't even noticed. Lucien's thumb pressed gently against the pulse point on his wrist, steady and warm. "You don't have to be strong all by yourself," Lucien murmured.

The touch felt electric. For a split second, Nox let himself lean into it, just enough to acknowledge the comfort. Lucien's breathing slowed, matching his own.

And then, the sky flickered.

Both of them looked up instantly. It wasn't a seam or a roar of thunder, just a faint, shimmering ripple across the stars, like a stone thrown into a deep, dark pool. It was gone in a heartbeat.

Lucien didn't look away from the horizon. "...It's getting closer."

"Yes."

Lucien exhaled a long, shaky breath. Then, without looking at him, he spoke quietly. "If something changes... if the world actually goes to hell... don't push me away. Promise me."

Nox closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the cool air. "I won't."

This time, it wasn't a lie to keep him safe. It was a promise to fight together.

They stayed there until the temperature dropped, not speaking, just standing close enough to feel the rhythm of each other's heartbeats. For a few minutes, the apocalypse felt like a distant problem. For a few minutes, it felt like they had all the time in the world.