Ushakiran Balachandra and Severus uncurled from where they had fallen to the ground, covered their faces with their hands, and prayed for the very best.


The tremors that had run through the ground when the starships had left – they were certain they had left, for the announcement had travelled down the chutes and into Ushakiran’s horrified ears – had cut off the way back to Severus’ shop. Those had panicked them both, but they hadn’t thrown them to the ground – that had come later, as they were running down one tunnel and up another, gripping each other’s hand to not lose each other in the dark, searching for a way out.


Sediment had rained into Ushakiran’s hair, but she was whole, as far as she could tell, and, judging by their flailing limbs and grunted apology when they hit her in the face, so was Severus.


A family of glowworms flickered on the ceiling. Their light confirmed Ushakiran’s worst fears.


Look! their glowing metropolis provided. You’re stuck here forever!


“We’re caved in,” whispered Severus. “Oh gods, this can’t be happening. This has never happened.”


Ushakiran replied dryly, “Hazard a guess it might have something to do with the whole apocalypse thing.”


An exasperated sigh. “The world isn’t ending,” Severus said, “just our corner of it is.”


“Yes, that’s much better.”


“Can we not do this?”


“We’re going to die, Severus.”


“Yes, and I’d like to do that in peace!”


Ushakiran looked away, and they fell silent. With nothing else to look at, she catalogued the way the glowworms steady light played off the walls of their stony grave. It changed, slightly, every few centimetres to the side, as the rock types shifted and combined.


“You know –” she ignored Severus’ annoyed shuffling – “there are uglier places to die.”

There was a long moment before Severus responded.


“It’s better than a hospital room.”


“Hey,” she opposed, voice gentle. What am I even defending?


They sat in silence, after that. A deep, pleasant sort of quiet. At some point, while untangling the threads she had found locked away in her brain, the one’s that she’d stowed away before for future reference, Ushakiran felt herself begin to cry.

She tasted the salt on her lips, heard her heartbeat in her ears and realised that she really didn’t want to go at all.

It’s not up to me, though, is it, came a thought, my path ends here. The next step is taking me right over the cliff.


But that wasn’t right either, was it? The cliff was actively crumbling under them. It was their bad luck that their eyes were fixed forwards on their useless bodies, and that their feet didn’t have a reverse motion feature.


Severus grabbed her hand, snapped Ushakiran out of her head.


“What’s going on?”


“The rock’s getting warmer,” they said.


It was. The ceiling was heating up the fastest, bearing down upon them like the glare of an equatorial midday sun. Something like understanding curled up next to Ushakiran’s palpitating heart.


They squeezed her hand, and she focused on it, closed her eyes.


“Goodnight, Usha,” they whispered. Their voice trembled and, on the last word, broke completely.


She leaned back against the burning stone. “Goodnight, Severus.” The glowworms up above settled into their nests, pulsing like little, frantic hearts. “Goodnight glow –