An attack on the city was inevitable.
Granted, it was New York City.
The weird thing was that no one saw it coming. That the end of the world cardboard signs had gone unseen and the scientists and doctors urging the public to strive for change was brushed away. Urgent words labeled as silly propaganda.
It had happened so fast that even now it seemed like a hysteric dream.
Monday morning's 8 am lecture was the worst. Why had you signed up for a morning seminar? Because it was the last, and only, credit you needed to finish your undergrad at NYU. An aspiring author and the only thing standing between you and your degree was a two hour lecture titled, “Apocalypses in the 21st century.”
Fitting that you would experience your own apocalypse before you finished your morning coffee.
Everyone always ran late in NYU, the city even. It was no glorified rush to class with a coming of age soundtrack overlaid, it was catcalls, honking horns and tripping over rodents and hoping you didn’t get a disease.
You had barely even had the time to dress, and in a panic shoved a nerdy Star Wars t-shirt on with a baby yoda pun and yoga pants you had worn to the library for the past week. It wasn’t even noon yet.
The English Department was big, but not many people wanted to take a class about the apocalypse-especially when most young adults faced a new pandemic, death sentence or trauma every other day.
Stumbling into a class of eleven students that reeked of brain rot and overstimulation was embarrassing on many levels. The professor didn’t even hide his distaste at the sight of you. His eyebrows wrenched forward and there was no longer a mask to hide the facial expressions that no one cared to be civil about anymore.
He continued on, blabbering about the diction used in Bird Box and how suspense was used to draw in the readers, blah blah blah.
“Malorie.” You almost missed the way he hissed your name as your fingers dug into your bag, immediately stilling as they grabbed your computer ,“I’m assuming you were late because you were working on your thesis.” You choked on your own spit, your back straightening as sets of eyes looked to you, a freshman looking away in embarrassment at the situation. Oh, don't worry your time will come, your thoughts aimed at the freshman were blown away like leaves in the wind as Professor Kale cleared his throat.
“Yes.”
A moment of silence passed as neither you, or anyone else in the room said more, and he nodded his head to you with his slicked back gray whiskers, urging you to continue.
“Why don’t you share with the class?”
You bit your lip in annoyance. First of all, this man wasn’t even your advisor and yet here he was throwing his assumptions around about you.
Secondly, you hadn’t started your thesis.
Normally any sort of disaster would be a bad thing, and you weren’t always this out of sorts with the world. You came to NYU on almost a full ride and fought to find your place at the school. You worked several jobs for most of your college years and genuinely cared about your academics.
Lately, things have just been off.
Many tried to convince you it was the hovering weight of adulthood, a crane slowly lowering onto your soul before you would be crushed alongside everyone else. And though adulthood was scary, there was more. Something akin to curious fear that taunted the back of your mind like a shadow you could see but never quite touch. No matter how the sun moved or the objects changed there was a shadow that consumed your limbs, and soon your whole body.
“Um” you stuttered, “the issue is-” a scream erupted from down below. Your classmates didn’t immediately flee to the window, your lecture was on the sixth floor of the academic building, and it was New York. Someone was always screaming.
But then the screaming got louder, horns honked and metal crashed and you were a lint forgotten on an old shirt. The professor only had to take one look out the window before he ran for the door, his pants loosening with each wobbly step of his legs. “Everyone get out!” He screeched, yet you still sat frozen around the chaos with your back to the window.
Your classmates ran around you, all of them leaving for the door and some of them even forgetting their bags with their computers and airpods.
You stood up on shaking legs just as a screech filled the air, high pitched and only increasing in volume.
Get out. It seemed to shout but your fight wasn’t working and your flight wasn’t either.
The wall behind you exploded in a parade of dust and concrete, glass shards exploding like sprinkles on a cake.
You were smart enough to cover your neck, shield your eyes, and when the ringing started to fade, you felt no pain. Should you be checking for any punctures, internal bleeding?
You had scattered to the back of the lecture hall, cowering in the corner and all of your pride drained, with only fear in its place.
A screech unlike the ringing from earlier, which strangely reminded you of your failed soundcloud history, burned your ears and the ground shuttered as if it was going to explode.
Grunts and the sound of metal sheathing broke the screech, and unfrozen you tried to crawl to escape, the smoke still heavy in the air.
It parted perfectly as a body emerged and collided into the wall with a clank.
But when it moved it was mechanical, not a body, but metal parts and gears clicking and turning, it’s head, that was in no way human, shifted and turned to you at an angle that would break any person's neck.
As if it couldn’t get any worse, when you looked down to its chest, a pink brain stared at you with one of its three eyes, glowing purple before its mouth parted and fangs appeared.
It sucked in a breath as if preparing to scream.
But then, a sword of glinting metal jabbed into its chest at full force, the pink brain sagged and the robot powered down with a similar sound of the old PC you owned as a kid.
You glanced up, wincing and afraid of what you’d find.
They looked human, their shoulder length hair pulled back in a bun and their bright green eyes tracing over you, as if analyzing a threat. When they pulled out the weapon, a purple ooze squirted out of the brain like an episode of Dr. Pimple Popper. “Careful, it's acidic.” Indeed the ooze started to melt through the floor after they spoke. Their voice was pitched low as if they were trying to sound tougher, trying to hide their own voice.
Robots, aliens, and…
Another robot-like creature of dull metal with a pink brain in its chest emerged, but it barely had time to come closer, for the stranger threw a knife that hit the robot square in the chest. Not a knife, but a sharp star, a throwing star.
Your breathing became erratic so much so that you lost your center, lost your vision to the fear coursing in your veins.
A robot grabbed you by the arm and spoke in weird, strange ticks, “specimen…” it clinked, “one known as human-”
Their hands-robotic arm-on you had finally stirred you back to life. You kicked harshly at its legs and your body shook with the force and your leg immediately retracted in pain, they were built like granite.
When getting your arm loose you scrambled back and picked up a stray piece of concrete from the floor, snapping it into the robot's head when it dared get closer.
It erupted in sparks and loose wiring and when you turned you found the stranger in a similar situation. Three robots were on them-okay, maybe the situation was not similar.
A robot raised a bladed arm to slash their back but you acted quickly, “Watch out!” You threw the rubble closest to you, barely the size of your hand, at the robot. It plopped off its head like a bug on a giant, tilting its head from the stranger to you and its eyes glowing purple, as if its objective had changed. “Specimen,” it creaked but then a sword cut the robot horizontally in half.
The building rumbled again and you stumbled forward before falling onto your knees,
“We need to go.” The stranger ushered, reaching a hand out to you as you felt the building tilt and the axis change.
You took the stranger's hand without question and they rushed towards the broken wall. The city below broke into chaos and was getting incredibly closer. You felt the jolt in your stomach but the stranger grabbed a grappling hook from their belt, “hold on.” The two of you flew through the city below as the building creaked and squeaked.
You wanted to scream, but you could only gasp before your mouth refused to make any other sound. The hook tilted and you lost your grip on the stranger, this time screaming as your body launched to a rooftop, a building barely five stories.
You rolled to the roof with a groan, gravity taking its toll on you as your shoulder collided into the heavy material. Your body felt like it was on fire.
“Sorry about that.” The stranger lost the tilt to his voice, it was youthful, playful despite the matureness in their face.
Or at least you hoped this was true, getting saved by a pre-teen might actually make you want to die.
“Are you used to fighting robot aliens?” Your voice came out calm despite the panic rising in your chest.
Their eyebrows rose and they knelt down to your crouched position, poking your cheek before you swatted their hand away.
“Interesting.” They muttered, “You shouldn’t remember any of this.” You glared at them, “I shouldn’t remember how we just escaped from a collapsing building with robotic droids and brain things in their chest?!” You pointed at them accusingly, “You literally sliced robots in half like some samurai in a video game!”
They shrugged at your hysterics,
“A, ‘you're welcome,’ would be nice.” They mused before snapping their fingers, the snap sounded as if it was a metal gong expanding through the air and echoing through your ears. The world blurred fast, like you had just been kicked in the head hard enough to knock your eyeballs out of their sockets. The screaming and sirens of your surroundings merged into a soft mumble, your limbs trembling from the buzzing-
Then it all stopped.
“Well, we don’t have all day.”
Your blood pressure rocketed, and was it just you or was it hot in here? Here.
Here being the same class, in the same building you had just escaped from before it collapsed. The professor is still sitting at the front of the room and your classmates are all in their seats, watching you, no running or screaming. You immediately stand and the legs of your chair squeak, as they slide against the floor. You walk to the windows, looking down on the city to find it completely normal.
Has someone given you acid?
Laced your water bottle with a hallucinogenic?
Your body twitched as you shifted your weight, and you assessed the heaviness of your limbs.
The shadow now had a form and a face.
“Yeah, I have a concept.” Your eyes skid across the outside world, and you swore that from the streets below someone was watching you.
A stranger staring into your soul with bright green eyes.