The stacks of medical textbooks taunted him from the moment he opened his eyes in the morning to the moment he closed them to sleep at night. They needed to go, but Luke just couldn't make himself throw them away. That would be the final step, and taking that meant admitting he'd failed. It was obvious to everyone, of course, to him most of all. Even so, he could not do it. Not yet.

  Instead, he rose with a yawn, stretched his arms over his head, and rolled out of bed. Saturday.

  "Honey, you're going to be late for your shift!"

  "Ugh," Luke groaned.

  Saturdays weren't what they used to be. Twenty-six years old, back living at home, and a lunch shift at the Hamburger Barn waiting for him. Not the future he'd envisioned, but Luke got up. Sure, he was somewhat of a massive fuckup, but if he got in late again, he might lose the job, and as much as he hated it, there were still people who depended on him. Luke wouldn't let them down. Not again.

  After just a few minutes of scrolling through Reddit, he pulled on a pair of dark gray chinos and a somewhat non-fragrant white polo shirt, slathered on some deodorant, and ran a hand through his hair. He needed a haircut. A buzzing in his pocket made Luke pull his phone up. It flashed and vibrated again, but the screen was just white. No matter what he did, it wouldn't unlock. Turning it off didn't work either. Great, just great.

  Back in the pocket it went as he moseyed to the door and braced himself. Light assaulted him as soon as he opened it and headed out. Every single light. Always on. All day. Every day. Halfway blinded, he started down the stairs and moved into the kitchen. It was too clean, like always. All white surfaces. The ever-present smell of disinfectant and citrus.

  "Good morning, my Luke. Did you sleep well?"

  Luke scratched at the stubble on his cheek. "I guess. Mom, how long have you been up cleaning?"

  "Oh, not that long," she said, smiling that lopsided smile of hers. "There's coffee in the pot. Why don't you join your father and Milla on the couch?"

  "There's something weird with the TV!" his father barked from the living room sofa, where he'd stay parked throughout the day.

  His mother disappeared into the living room as he grabbed a large mug and filled it with coffee, her heels clacking on the floor, and the smell of her perfume lingering behind her. Flowers and apples. The same scent she'd been wearing for as long as Luke could remember.

  "Luke!" his father yelled.

  "What?" Luke yelled back.

  "I said the TV is doing this weird thing! Can you look at it before you go?"

  "Yeah yeah," he said, grabbing a piece of bread from the pantry before heading into the living room. On the way through the kitchen, he noticed the microwave clock blinking in some random patterns. Power outage during the night, or something, maybe. That could've fried the TV too.

  The living room was a shrine to the television. Sure, there was other furniture, like bookcases and frames with photos on the walls, but the main focal point was the television set. Everything in the room seemed to point toward it, with the couch and chairs all placed in front of it, like twelve people would turn up to watch some movie or show out of nowhere. Now, the TV flickered, showing some black and white boxes drifting all over the place. This was an error Luke hadn't seen before. Strange.

  "How did you break it this time, Dad?" Luke asked, glancing at his sister sitting there in the corner, scrolling on her phone. The transparent tubing running from her nose to the large oxygen tank next to the sofa. Even with it, sitting still, her labored breathing made his face flush. Even when bracing for it, it was just too much. Not fair. It wasn't fair. Luke couldn't even see her without thinking of his promise when he got into med school. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. At this point, he should be making strides toward figuring out what the hell was wrong with her. No other doctors gave a shit. They'd proved that much. So, now she sat there on the couch with their dad, their mom hovering in the vicinity every moment she wasn't cleaning so much her fingers bled.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  She looked up at him, wrinkling her small nose before brushing light brown bangs, which were too long, out of her eyes and spoke before their father could reply. "You need to wash those clothes, little brother."

  Luke lifted his arm and smelled his pit. She was right. "I'm cultivating a musk."

  "Gross," she giggled, before turning serious. "Please fix the TV or Dad is going to whine all day. It's bad enough here without me having to deal with that."

  "Children, be nice," their mother said, standing in the corner of the room. Luke wasn't sure he'd ever seen her sit.

  He sat down between Milla and his dad with a grunt, took a bite out of the somewhat stale bread, and washed it down with a large gulp of black coffee. The right way to start your day.

  "I turned the damn thing off and then back on again, but it's just doing this," his father said, gesturing to the screen.

  Luke wanted to scream. To scream at the stifling air in the room and the sadness in his sister's eyes behind the brave front she put up, and the stagnant lives of his parents. He loved them, he did, but living back here again was like having his chest crushed, each breath a little more difficult than the last.

  "My phone just died out of nowhere," Milla said, her brows drawn together in a scowl.

  He stood, glanced down at his dead phone, and walked up toward the TV where it sat mounted on the wall. The screen turned to full black in that instant, followed by white. A man appeared on screen, standing there surrounded by a blank nothingness.

  "Hello there," the man said, and it was like he was making eye contact with Luke as he spoke. "Let’s get started."

  "Is that Mr. Rutgers?" Luke asked. It was. His high school science teacher was on TV for some strange reason.

  "What?" Milla asked.

  Luke turned and gestured to the TV. "It's Mr. Rutgers. You remember him, don't you? You had him too. Right?"

  "That's Miss Jolene," Milla said, a look of utter confusion on her face.

  "We have a lot to get through, so I won’t keep you waiting a moment longer," Mr. Rutgers said, clasping his hands before him where he stood in the black void. He wore that same brown corduroy jacket with the leather pads on the elbows he'd always used back when he taught at Hill High. "To avoid any confusion, this message is going out to everyone on Earth and I'm wearing a different face for each of you, emulating someone you find comfort in. This is protocol when integrating a new system."

  "What the hell is this?" his father asked, reaching for the remote and changing the channel. Mr. Rutgers appeared again, and his father made a displeased sound, turning the TV off. "They must've hacked the Internet."

  "That's not how it works, Dad," Milla said as the TV turned back on.

  Everyone looked at the remote on the table where their father left it.

  "Twenty-four hours ago, your system solved fusion energy. Congratulations! That is one of the specific triggers chosen for your universe. Do not worry, all will be well."

  "What is this, George?" their mother asked.

  Luke's father grabbed the remote again and attempted to turn off the TV. It didn't work.

  "They're hacking us. That must be it. It's the Chinese! Right, Luke?"

  Luke shook his head, not looking away from the screen. "Shush."

  "System Integration will come with many changes to allow you to grow stronger and eventually stand shoulder to shoulder with your brothers and sisters against the void. Some like to coddle the newly Integrated, but I believe that fosters weakness, rather than strength. To that end, I will keep this brief. In the center of all larger metropolitan centers, you will find an orb. Touch this orb to find a new path to strength and greatness beyond your wildest dreams. Society, as you know it, has come to an end. Embrace this path with vigor and be rewarded. Become a mighty warrior, a spell-slinging wizard, a tech-rider blasting monsters with lasers," the man on the screen said, pausing as his gaze intensified, burrowing into Luke, "or a healer wielding the very stuff of the universe! That is all. Go out and grow strong."

  The TV turned off, and they sat in silence for a moment, looking at each other. That one word reverberated through Luke's skull. Healer.

  Luke's phone buzzed again, and he picked it up. It no longer showed that blank screen.

  "Hey, did you see that?!" Ray texted.

  Luke tapped away. "You mean on the TV? Yeah. What do you think?"

  "I'm at work, so I've got to be close to that orb thing, whatever it is," Ray texted back.

  "You believe all that stuff?"

  Ray texted back, "Hell yeah, brother. First contact! Let's go! Take me into the multiverse, alien daddy!”

  Luke grinned. "You are such a weirdo."

  "You'll eat those words once I blast into space!" Ray texted.

  "Luke, dear. I don't want you going near any of this."

  Luke sent a final text to Ray before turning to his mother. "I'd like to see that."

  "Race you to the orb, bitch!" Ray immediately texted back.

  "Tumblr is down," Milla complained.

  "Luke?"

  Luke blinked and looked up. "Sorry, what?"

  "You're going to be late for your shift, dear."

  "Right."

  "You are going to your shift, right?" his father asked. "It's going to be a little while longer before my disability check rolls in."

  "I'm going," Luke said, marveling at his father's inability to grasp what'd just happened. He stood and gulped down the now cold coffee with a shudder. "I’m sure everyone will be queuing up for burgers! I'm taking the car."

  "Little brother?" Milla asked.

  Luke turned. "Yeah?"

  "Going into town is going to be a shit show after that little world-ending message," she said, breaking out into a nervous chuckle, her eyes wild.

  "Shit, you're right," Luke said, heaving a sigh. "I'll have to take the damn bike to the apocalypse."