Pierce sat at his desk with his laptop open, a Zoom lecture murmuring on and on about frameworks and project deadlines. The professor’s voice blended into the low electrical hum of the computer, steady and meaningless. Just outside the camera’s frame, his parents stood watchful and still. His mother adjusted the angle of the screen by a fraction, precise as always. His father observed Pierce’s posture like it was a vital sign.
Pierce tried to keep his breathing even.
The sound of a notification chimed, sharp and sudden, and something inside him fractured.
The room vanished.
Gunfire tore through the air, deafening and close. The smell of smoke and heat pressed into his throat. Someone screamed. He saw Scarlet go down, her body folding in on itself as if the ground had reached up and pul
