The world outside his basement apartment had gone quiet. Not the peaceful quiet of morning, but the hollow quiet of a power grid that had finally given up. The emergency broadcasts had stopped three days ago. The hum of the city was gone.

Waiting for the next person.

He paused, his thumb hovering over the tiny keyboard. Pixel whined softly from the foot of the mattress.

But for one perfect second before the darkness swallowed it, the cursor kept blinking.

He hit . The battery icon flashed red, then vanished. The screen went black.

Elias opened the app. The note count was 11. One for each day since the event.