Mr penis

CHAPTER FIVE — NIGHT ZERO

The basement felt colder as the hours crawled by.

Not the natural cold of concrete, but a deeper kind—like the air was thinning, like the world outside was draining warmth from everything beneath it. The fallout storm still hissed against the roof, a soft, endless static.

Mewo checked her phone for the tenth time. No signal. No emergency alerts. No messages.
Just NO SERVICE blinking like a cruel joke.

“This sucks,” she muttered. “I didn’t even get to complain about bad TikTok trends properly today.”

Cornball snorted. “You’re complaining now. Pretty sure that counts.”

She opened her mouth to retort but stopped when she saw Untitledgoober trembling beside a stack of boxes, clutching their backpack like a life vest.

“Hey,” Mewo said, kneeling beside them. “You holding up?”

Goober didn’t look up. “I hate loud noises. And bright flashes. And chaos. And… and this is everything at once.”

Cornball walked over and sat on Goober’s other side. “We got you. Okay? Nobody’s passing out or panicking alone. That’s the rule.”

Goober nodded weakly and leaned against Cornball’s shoulder.

Across the room, Shira and Corpse.Bride sorted the water bottles into neat rows, their hands shaking every so often.

Corpse.Bride forced a smile.
“At least I wasn’t wearing my good jacket. Fallout chic is not my aesthetic.”

Shira chuckled softly. “You’re doing better than I thought.”

Corpse.Bride shrugged. “I scream at horror movies but handle real crises weirdly well.”

Norther, meanwhile, was pacing—measuring the basement’s dimensions, counting potential cracks in the foundation, analyzing anything he could.

Nobleranger watched him for a minute. Then finally asked, “You good?”

“No,” Norther said bluntly. “But if I stop moving, I’ll start thinking.”

“About what?” Nobleranger asked gently.

Norther didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

Family. Friends. A city disappearing in an instant.

Toady moved quietly between groups, checking on everyone without making a fuss. They adjusted the duct tape around the vents, checked the hinges on the basement door, nudged boxes into sturdier barricades.

Finally, Curator approached them.

“You’re… really good at this,” Curator said softly.

“At what?”

“At not freaking out.”

Toady paused, looking down at their dust-covered hands.
“I’m freaking out,” they said simply. “I just don’t have time to show it.”

Curator didn’t push further. They just nodded and went back to helping Shira and Corpse.Bride organize the makeshift supplies.

SETTLING IN

As night deepened—though none of them could see the sky—they arranged a sleeping area using old tarps, coats, and some folded banners from previous events.

Mewo curled up on one end, headphones around her neck though there was nothing to listen to. Randomiser lay beside a stack of dusty costume boxes from some long-forgotten school play.

Cornball helped Goober settle into the softest part of the makeshift bedding.
“Try to rest,” he whispered.
“I’m… trying,” Goober murmured, eyes half-lidded.

Near the center of the room, Norther sat cross-legged with a notebook he found in an archive box. He was writing—furiously.

“What’s that?” Nobleranger asked.

“A record,” Norther said without looking up. “If we don’t make it… someone should know what happened.”

Nobleranger placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’re making it.”

Norther’s voice shook just slightly.
“I hope so.”

DARKNESS

The hanging lightbulb flickered again.

Everyone tensed.

“Please,” Corpse.Bride whispered to the ceiling, “do not go out.”

But the flicker grew worse—stuttering like a dying heartbeat.

Then—

POP.

The bulb went black.

For a split second, the silence was total.

Then Goober whimpered. Someone else gasped. Randomiser let out a strangled “NOPE—NOPE—NOPE—”

Cornball fumbled for his phone flashlight, but the beam was weak and narrow.

“Stay calm,” Toady ordered, voice cutting through the dark with rare authority.

One by one, everyone turned on their phone lights. Thirteen small cones of illumination flickered across the basement, casting long shadows against the walls.

It wasn’t bright.

It wasn’t comforting.

But it was something.

Norther spoke quietly.
“Phones won’t last long. We need to conserve battery.”

“So we’re sleeping in the dark?” Randomiser asked.

“Yes,” Norther said.

Randomiser let out a half-hysterical laugh. “Great. Amazing. Just what I needed. Nuclear fallout AND the world’s worst sleepover.”

Goober clung harder to their backpack. “It’s so… quiet.”

Shira shuddered. “It’s never this quiet. Not even during storms.”

Toady glanced up toward the ceiling.
“It’s not quiet,” they said.
“Listen.”

Everyone went still.

At first, they heard only their own breathing.

Then—softly—the faintest scraping sound.

Like something shifting above them.

Something moving through the ash.

Corpse.Bride hugged her knees. “Tell me that’s just deb

Corpse.Bride hugged her knees. “Tell me that’s just debris.”

Nobleranger whispered, “Yeah. Has to be.”

But no one sounded convinced.

Mewo swallowed hard. “So… night zero officially sucks.”

Toady sat down on an overturned crate, resting their head against the cold wall.

“This is only the beginning.”

Outside, the fallout storm raged on.

Inside, thirteen teenagers waited in the dark—together, trapped, afraid.

And somewhere above, something made the ceiling dust shiver.

"tell me just debirs" BROSKI IMA FIGHT THE F**KIGN AIR