For a breathless moment, everything was silent. Then, from the hallway, a muffled voice shouted, “Maya? What’s happening?”
When Maya’s phone buzzed at 3:07 a.m., she thought it was a glitch. The notification read simply:
They stared at each other, the weight of the moment settling like dust. Outside, the night sky glowed with an eerie green aurora, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
The seconds stretched. The countdown hit zero. The projector sputtered, the screen went black, and the room was filled with a low, resonant hum. Maya’s phone vibrated violently, the screen flashing red: