It had been raining since morning — one of those merciless city rains that seemed to pour from a cracked sky, sheets of cold silver drowning sound and shape alike. The streets had emptied hours ago, save for the scattered debris and the distant, terrible silences. It was Day One. Nobody knew that yet, of course. They were all still trying to make sense of it.

Eric hadn’t spoken much since he’d fallen in step behind her — two strangers tethered by the instinct to survive. She hadn’t asked him to follow, and he hadn’t asked to be kept. But there was something about her steadiness — the way she moved with purpose through the shattered streets — that anchored him when the rest of the world had split apart.

Now, the storm was breaking properly. Wind knifed through the alleyways, rattling signs and tearing the breath from their lungs. Rain blurred the skyline into smudges of steel and smoke.

“We— we should find somewhere,” Eric whispered, voice near lost to the downpour. His accent — Kentish, quiet, slightly breathless — rounded his words in that soft way English voices did. “If this keeps up, we’ll freeze before anything else gets us.”

She nodded once, eyes scanning the row of darkened buildings until she spotted an old brick apartment block, its windows shattered, the lobby door ajar. She jerked her chin towards it. He followed, head ducked, curls plastered to his forehead.

They waded through the puddled street, shoes squelching. Every movement was deliberate, careful — the way one moves when sound itself could get them killed.

The lobby smelled of damp and dust. Somewhere above, a windowpane rattled. The thunder rolled — distant, then closer. Eric’s eyes tracked the ceiling as though watching for something alive up there.

“There,” he mouthed, pointing to a flat on the first floor. The door was locked. He gripped the handle, testing it, jaw tightening. The rain was pounding outside — the perfect cover. He turned to her, lips barely parting. “Next thunderclap, yeah?”

She nodded. They waited — the seconds stretching. The air hummed with static, anticipation, terror.

Then the thunder came, splitting the sky open.

Eric threw his shoulder into the door. The crash of wood and thunder collided into one sound — swallowed by the storm. They stumbled inside.

For a long moment, they stood in the dark, breathing. The rain drowned out everything but the pounding of their hearts. Eric’s suit jacket clung to his back, soaked through; his hair dripped onto the floor. He pressed a hand against the door, testing its strength, then exhaled — shaky, but relieved.

“Sorry about that,” he whispered finally, voice hoarse. “Didn’t think I’d be breaking and entering today.” A faint, self-conscious smile ghosted across his face, the kind that tried to defuse tension but didn’t quite manage it.

She huffed a quiet laugh — barely a breath. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

They moved further inside, stepping carefully over the remnants of someone’s old life — an overturned chair, a broken mug, a calendar still fixed on March. Eric crouched by the window and peered out through the rain-streaked glass, eyes reflecting the lightning.

“Think they’re gone for now,” he murmured. “Whatever they are.”

She sank down against the wall, pulling her soaked jacket tight around her. “You were a law student, right?”

He glanced at her, startled by the sound of her voice in the half-dark. “How’d you—?”

“You talk like one,” she whispered, lips quirking faintly.

Eric chuckled under his breath, the sound small but warm. “I’ll take that as a compliment. My mum would, anyway.” He rubbed a trembling hand across his forehead, smearing rainwater and grime. “Christ, this doesn’t feel real.”

For a moment, the thunder cracked again, and they both flinched instinctively — two animals braced for the unseen. Then came quiet, broken only by the steady hiss of the storm outside.