It was recess.
The sun pressed softly through the overcast sky as a few Class 12 students leaned against the railing near the side exit of the school building, half in the shade, half in the quiet warmth of a rare peaceful afternoon. This wasn't just any school—it was a residential boarding school, one of the few types still operational under government approval. Day schools weren't allowed anymore. It simply wasn't safe.
Some of the girls had chosen to stay inside the classroom during break. Wandering the corridors or standing by the gates never appealed to them. They chatted in hushed tones, gossiping or just sharing thoughts—the way normal students would, back when things were normal.
At the stairwell, we were doing something similar—if slightly more existential.
"What do you think… about the disease?" Gaurav asked, his eyes staring out at the cracked pavement below. "Are we going to spend the rest of our lives like this?"
Aditya, standing next to him with arms folded, replied without looking up. "Scientists are working on a cure. There's still a chance."
Amrit, perched on the edge of the railing, nodded toward the main building. "Looks like all the junior batches are heading to the auditorium. Secretary Sir's speech, maybe? Though… we weren't invited."
"Not surprising," Jay chimed in, pushing his glasses up. "We're practically out of here anyway. Our focus now should be on sharpening our skills—whatever paths we've chosen."
That might sound optimistic—like we had a world of careers to choose from. But the truth was far more limited.
In a post-apocalyptic world, "career options" were dictated by necessity. Survival came first. Purpose came second.
Most of us were on paths that led straight into military service. It was the default and the demand. Some specialized in field operations like the Expedition Teams, others leaned into combat and joined the Response Force. The more analytical ones, like Jay, could enter Military Intelligence or Reconnaissance.
Those rare students with scientific aptitude—like Purnima—were often recruited to assist researchers trying to develop a cure or study the virus itself. Anyone who failed to demonstrate strong ability during training was sent to do manual labor—farms, mines, or factories. The unlucky or unfit ones? They became standard civilians, placed in Level 3 safe zones and left to live under whatever scraps of stability they could find.
Fortunately—or maybe unfortunately, depending on how you see it—our Class 12 batch was considered elite. Each of us had been scouted or recognized by the local authorities. Our futures, even in the apocalypse, were more or less secured.
Aditya had set his sights on joining the Response Force. Jay was going into Intelligence. Amrit had trained relentlessly to join the Expedition Team. Gaurav was solid enough to qualify for standard frontline service. Purnima, the top of her class in chemistry and medicine, had already been promised a place at a government-run cure research lab.
And me?
I'm Samarth. And I'm the one they made their leader.
You might ask how that works—if we're all headed to different divisions, what does it mean to lead them?
Well, six months ago, during our military internship, we were grouped together by chance for a mock Dead Zone simulation. Our coordination, our instincts, our synergy—it clicked. The commanding officer took one look at the results and said, "This is a squad."
That's how we became the prototype team for a new surveillance unit designed to operate inside Dead Zones—one of the most dangerous roles imaginable. And I was appointed the squad leader.
Why me?
There's a ranking system in place—based on physical performance, combat skill, field awareness. I ranked first. Aditya came second. But don't mistake that for me being far superior. He's probably just as skilled as I am, especially in close combat. The only reason I beat him in the final evaluation was because all ten of my shots hit the target dead-on. One of his missed by a few centimeters.
Still, I'd say I edge him out. I've got emotions. He's a little… cold.
Amrit ranked third. He's the fastest among us, with reflexes that probably match trained soldiers. Jay came in fourth, with Gaurav not far behind at fifth. Purnima, despite her academic focus, is no slouch. She ranked first among the girls and sixth overall—completing basic military training with impressive consistency.
There are others in our class too—some who'll join the story when their time comes. But for now, this was our core group.
We didn't know it at the time, but that quiet moment on the stairs? That was the last breath of normal we'd have for a long while.
Because the storm was already walking toward us.