It's the apocalypse again

The sound of Echo's voice still lingered in the room, a soft hum beneath her thoughts, when the door burst open.

"Qianqian!" a voice called out, loud and cheerful, shattering the fragile calm she had just begun to build.

Xu Qianqian flinched, her phone nearly slipping from her grasp. She turned sharply, her heart racing as her roommate, Lin Mei, strode into the room with all the energy of someone who hadn't just returned from the dead—or remembered dying.

Lin Mei's short black hair was tousled, and her wide, animated eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. She carried a messy stack of notebooks in one hand, a coffee cup in the other. "Come on, lazybones! Class starts in twenty minutes. You overslept again, didn't you?"

Qianqian blinked, momentarily disoriented. Class? What class? For a split second, she struggled to place herself in this new—old—reality. She had barely started piecing together the enormity of her situation, and now Lin Mei was here, dragging her back into a life that no longer made sense.

"Qianqian?" Lin Mei tilted her head, giving her a curious look. "What's with the blank stare? Are you okay?"

"I—" Qianqian started, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm fine. Just... tired."

Lin Mei squinted, her gaze narrowing. "Tired? That's not like you. Did you stay up late cramming again? Or—wait." She gasped dramatically. "Don't tell me you were watching that zombie movie marathon last night? The one you swore you wouldn't watch because you'd get nightmares?"

The mention of zombies made Qianqian's stomach churn. Her fingers tightened around her phone, her knuckles going white.

"No," she said, her voice sharper than she intended. "It wasn't that."

Lin Mei raised an eyebrow but didn't press. Instead, she gestured to the clock on the wall. "Well, whatever it was, get a move on! Professor Zhang isn't exactly forgiving about latecomers, and today's lecture is—"

"I'm not going," Qianqian interrupted.

The words hung in the air like a bombshell.

Lin Mei froze mid-sentence, her mouth slightly open. "You're... not going?" she repeated, as if the concept was entirely foreign.

Qianqian forced herself to meet her roommate's gaze. "Yeah. I'm skipping today."

Lin Mei's shock was almost comical. She set her coffee cup down on the desk with exaggerated care and crossed her arms. "Okay, who are you, and what have you done with Xu Qianqian? Because the Qianqian I know would rather crawl across broken glass than miss a class."

A weak smile tugged at Qianqian's lips. "I guess I'm not feeling like myself today."

Lin Mei's expression softened, concern replacing her earlier surprise. "Hey, are you sure you're okay? You don't look sick, but if you're feeling off—"

"I'm fine," Qianqian said quickly. Too quickly. She took a deep breath and tried to sound more convincing. "Really, Mei. I just need some time to myself."

Lin Mei hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but after a moment, she relented. "Alright," she said, grabbing her coffee and notebooks. "But if you're still feeling weird later, promise me you'll see the campus nurse or something, okay?"

"Promise," Qianqian lied, forcing another smile.

Lin Mei lingered by the door for a moment, as if debating whether to push further. Finally, she sighed. "Okay, okay. But if I come back and find out you've been binge-watching apocalyptic dramas again, I'm confiscating your laptop."

Qianqian managed a soft laugh, though it felt hollow. "Deal."

With that, Lin Mei waved and disappeared down the hall, leaving Qianqian alone once more.

The room fell silent, save for the faint hum of traffic outside the window. Qianqian exhaled slowly, sinking back onto the edge of her bed. Her hands trembled slightly as she picked up her phone again, staring at the date displayed on the screen.

"Skipping class? That's new," Echo remarked, his voice breaking the stillness.

Qianqian flinched again, though less violently this time. She had almost forgotten about him in the chaos of Lin Mei's visit.

"You heard that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I hear everything you hear. Comes with the territory."

"Great," she muttered, running a hand through her hair. "Now I have a mysterious voice in my head and a year to prepare for the end of the world. Perfect."

"Could be worse." Echo's tone was maddeningly casual, almost amused.

She glared at the air in front of her, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "Worse? How, exactly, could it be worse?"

"You could've come back two months before the apocalypse instead of twelve. Or not at all. Perspective, Qianqian."

She let out a frustrated groan, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes. "This isn't funny, Echo. I don't even know where to start. I've got no plan, no resources, no idea what I'm supposed to do."

"That's why I'm here," he said simply. "To help you figure it out. But first, you need to stop panicking and start thinking."

She lowered her hands, staring at the blank notebook page on her desk. Slowly, she stood and walked over to it, her movements hesitant, as if she were afraid the world might unravel if she moved too quickly.

She picked up a pen and hovered it over the paper, her mind racing. "Okay," she muttered to herself. "First things first. Supplies. I'll need food. Water. Medicine. Weapons..."

"And a place to store them," Echo added. "A safe one."

"Right," she said, jotting the words down. "Shelter. I'll need something better than... this." She glanced around the dorm room, its soft, pastel decor so far removed from the harsh, brutal world she knew was coming.

Her hand stilled as another thought struck her. "I can't tell anyone," she said, her voice barely audible.

"Smart," Echo said. "The less people know, the less they can interfere. Besides, no one would believe you anyway."

She swallowed hard, the weight of her isolation pressing down on her. "That means I have to do this alone," she said softly. "No one else knows what's coming. It's all on me."

"Not entirely alone," Echo reminded her. "I'm here."

She let out a dry laugh. "Oh, sure. A disembodied voice in my head. That's comforting."

"You'll get used to me," he said again, his tone lighter. "Now, keep planning. We've got work to do."

Qianqian nodded, more to herself than to him. Her pen resumed moving across the page, each word a tiny step toward the monumental task ahead. For the first time since she woke up, she felt a spark of control returning.

She would survive this time around. She must.