Outside, the weather raged.

  The circur fluorest lights on the ceiling flickered every now and theo the storm. The typically calm, sultry evening had suddenly taken on a pletely different character. The rge, wide room felt small pared to the crashing sounds outside. Perhaps this storm was a warning, a signal that the ordinary life everyone knew—ohat followed the same monotonous routine every day—could just as easily ge without warning.

  Morbus shook the thoughts from his head and brought himself back to the present, the rge, stale room where he waited. The ers of the room were filled with tall potted pnts. The benches, once lined up against the wall, had mostly been taken away for materials, though some remained for those who needed a pce to sit during busier times. Morbus smirked.

  Seems like te nights arely a popur time to e for food.

  What used to be the reception of an office building had been verted into one of many supply stations, inteo provide the citizens of Aquinox with food. The president wao ehere was enough for everyone, after all. Every week, ration cards were handed out to the people, serving as a form of currency to exge for boxes of provisions.

  Morbus and his father rarely used up all their cards in a week. That's why Morbus had decided to pick up a few extras this Sunday evening.

  He pressed the small, roual bell on the reception ter again.

  Maybe they didn't hear me the first time.

  Soon, he heard footsteps approag. A young, slim woman with bck hair tucked under a baseball cap walked over.

  "Good evening. How I help you?"

  "Hi, I came to pick up some extra food." He handed her the few cards he had. "This should be enough for a medium box."

  The woman ied the cards and nodded. "Just a moment," she replied.

  She stepped back through the doorway aurned shortly after with a cardboard box, pg it on the reception ter. The Aquinox logo, a gray circle with a red fme in the ter surrounded by blue, wave-like lines, rinted on the front in bold ink. o it was the city's well-known slogan:

  Live protected, live forever.

  "Here you go. Have a nice evening," she said kindly.

  Morbus thanked her, took the box, and headed for the exit. He opehe gss door to the street and stepped into the rainy evening air of Aquinox, making his way home.

  * * *

  Fortunately, Morbus was dressed well enough for the rain.

  The streets were deserted. With the sting, most people stayed inside for safety. Morbus found the risk quite minimal.

  Lightning always strikes the highest point, he remembered from school. As long as I stay between the buildings, nothing will happen to me.

  As raindrops beat down on his raincoat's hood, he crossed the street and turned onto another road. This was one of Aquinox's loreets, bustling with footsteps and chatter every day, yet calm and quiet by night—especially iher like this. Morbus couldn't imagine vehicles polluting the streets back then, people glued to their phones without a thought for the future.

  I 't imagine people were that... mindless.

  But now, life was different.

  Sihe flood, all cars had been banned by the president. He'd reserved all gasoline for emergencies and other purposes, repurposing the cars for materials like pipes, eleics, and modern teology. The only means of transportation were horses, bicycles, the undergrouro, or simply walking.

  Then Morbus remembered something.

  Tomorrow's already July 12th. That means we have history css again.

  He groaned. History wasly his favorite subject. But it was a mandatory lesson oh of every month, a decision the president had made to remind everyone hile society was and how fortuhey were to live in a funing one.

  At least it's just for one day.

  The rest of his studies were a bination of math, chemistry, and physics, subjects he was far more ied in. Then again, there wasn't much choice. Of the four Categories, only two involved sa or Sce. His decision had been easy; w on the Wall or in the fields uhe hot sun wasn't something he could picture himself doing.

  Morbus brushed aside his thoughts ahe heavy rain again on his jacket. Only a little bit further, and he would be home.

  * * *

  He climbed the st few steps and opehe door to their apartment.

  I wonder if Father's still awake.

  He shut the door, set the box uhe coat rack, and hung his raio dry. The hallway seemed to have absorbed some of the bleakness from outside. The old light bulbs overhead seemed dimmer than ever, or maybe it was just the bck carpet swallowing up what little light there was. Two of the three doors at the end of the hall—left and straight ahead—were closed, but the oo the right en, with a light on inside.

  Morbus smelled a strong st of wine.

  Might be best if I don't show my face right now. Not sure if he's in the mood to see me.

  "I'm back," he called toward the open dot the food."

  From the other side, he heard a muffled respohat could pass for an ''okay."

  Morbus opehe food box to see what was inside. Enough for three or four days—plenty of beans, lentils, fruit, and a few reens. There were even some eggs and dairy.

  Better put those in the fridge.

  He picked up the box and opehe door straight ahead, avoiding looking too much at his father's room.

  The living room was small but cozy. On the right was a tiny kit with a door leading to a shower and toilet. On the left, a round table with two chairs, and against the back wall, a very fortable gray seal.

  I'd love to have a cat here. Too bad Father isn't ied.

  He set the box on the ter, opehe almost-empty fridge beh, and stored the eggs and dairy.

  Good thing I went tonight. We didn't have much left.

  Morbus checked the clock. Ten past eleven. Time to get some sleep.

  He left the living room a into the room on the right.

  His room.

  Morbus was gd to have a space of his own. Against the back wall was his bed with pitch bck covers—his favorite color—which were still tangled from st night. To the left was a rge wardrobe with sliding doors, and opposite the door, a desk with drawers underh for schoolbooks and personal items.

  I'm exhausted.

  He took off his clothes and crawled into bed without pajamas. He grabbed his memorybook from under his pillow and ope on today's page.

  Brought food, nothing special, he wrote down with the pen attached to the notebook.

  He put the memorybook bad let his head fall on the pillow. He set an arm on his phone for the m. Half-past eight.

  That gives me a good nine hours of sleep.

  Unlike most students, Morbus could never get enough sleep. He'd love nothing more than to stay in bed for fifteen hours, but that was a luxury reserved only for the weekends. The other days were just schooldays.

  Did kids back then think about life the same way? he wondered. Or did the flood take everything from them? Could there even be anythi of the world beyond the Walls of Aquinox?

  He found these kinds of questions fasating, mostly because the president and the other leaders never seemed ied in answering them. They were too busy keeping Aquinox running.

  A dull, dull life that will never ge.

  With that thought, he drifted off to sleep.

  Little did he know, that dull life would ge pletely in just three days.