From March 21st, Friday, to March 23rd, Sunday

March 21st, Friday.

Iris and her parents were at the dinner table. She sat silently while her parents discussed the news. They no longer seemed like the people they were before all this started. No one had really touched the food on their plates.

"This is a miracle," said Iris’s mother, hands clasped in prayer. "The Lord sent us a message through His Holiness. We have time to prepare."

Iris’s father nodded.

"We’ve been devout all our lives. We should be grateful that He gave us a year to seek redemption," said the mustached man, turning to look at his daughter. "And you, Iris, you need to take this seriously. We should start praying together every day, and you mustn’t let doubt into your heart."

But doubt was all Iris had in her mind and in her eyes. She forced herself to eat, just to get through the moment faster. After hesitating for a few seconds, she mustered the courage to voice her thoughts.

"But... what if they find a way to stop the meteor? The scientists might —"

Before she could finish, her mother interrupted, her eyes filled with fear but her voice unwavering.

"No scientist can stop God’s will. There’s nothing to fear, my dear. If we remain devout, we’ll be among the chosen."

Iris didn’t reply. She stared at her plate, appetite gone, wondering how her parents had reached their conclusion so quickly. Without meaning to, she knocked over her glass and hurried to the kitchen to grab a cloth to clean it up.

March 22nd, Saturday.

It was a sunny Saturday morning. Jonas’s grandmother, a thin woman with glasses and white hair neatly tied in a bun, had been sitting on the couch reading the Bible since dawn.

"Jonas, we need to start getting ready. We don’t have much time," she said while reading the holy book.

But Jonas, sitting on the couch in front of her, wasn’t paying attention. He was once again on his phone with headphones in, browsing the social network Squawk, whose logo was the silhouette of a green bird.

He was watching news and people’s reactions to the announcement. The entire world was in a frenzy. Apocalypse memes flooded the internet alongside near-animalistic arguments. Occasionally, a smile appeared on his face from a meme, but his expression quickly darkened when he saw more serious posts.

As he scrolled, Jonas saw people sharing posts about obscure religious leaders claiming the world would end soon. Then, a familiar face popped up.

“ZEK PROPHÈTE WAS RIGHT, AHAHAHAHA!” read a post featuring a short compilation of his doomsday videos, already at 500,000 views on the parrot-themed platform.

Jonas was too engrossed in his phone to notice his grandmother had gotten up and was now behind him. He jumped when she tapped his shoulder.

"Watching that lunatic’s nonsense again?" she scolded.

"Jeez! Don’t scare me like that!" Jonas exclaimed, quickly regaining his composure. "Ahem... it’s just funny how people are taking this guy seriously now. He’s been posting for years saying the world was gonna end, but now they’re acting like Zek Prophète is an actual prophet."

And sure enough, the comments were full of people genuinely calling Zek a prophet—many of whom had never even seen a video of his before and didn’t know he’d been gone for years.

Before his grandmother could respond, a sleepy girl with curly black hair, about eleven years old, walked into the room in blue pajamas. She was Jonas’s sister.

"Grandma, is it true the world is going to end?" the girl asked.

The grandmother knelt down, caressed her hair, and smiled.

"Thérése, my dear, there’s no need to be afraid. We’re blessed to know the truth before it happens. The Lord will take care of us."

Jonas stayed silent, continuing to scroll, watching the madness people were sharing.

Saturday Night.

Renata was once again locked in her dark room, browsing her computer. But the thin walls made it easy to hear her mother and stepfather — the third since her parents’ divorce —arguing.
"It’s true, Marcel! The Pope had the vision! The scientists confirmed it too! We have to —"

Before Renata’s mother could finish, the sound of a slap echoed.

"Shut up, you bitch! You’re crazy like everyone else who believes that crap! The world’s not ending!" the stepfather shouted.

Renata just took a deep breath and continued surfing the web.

"Stupid woman. The guy screams at her, hits her, and she still stays with him... If the world’s ending, then let it end already, damn it," Renata thought, nearly punching her desk in anger.

March 23rd, Sunday

Social media had already made it clear the world was descending into chaos, but Iris decided to leave the house to see for herself. Despite being a small town, the plaza was packed. She had never seen so many people gathered there before.

On one side, groups held signs, Bibles, and loudspeakers, yelling about repentance and salvation. Another group preached about government conspiracies. A man stood on a box shouting about the end times, while a woman handed out pamphlets urging people to abandon technology and return to nature. Some prayed in corners, others argued loudly.

Familiar faces filled the crowd—classmates or just acquaintances. And among them sat Jonas on a bench, once again glued to his phone.

"Seriously? In the middle of all this madness you’re still on your phone?" said Iris disapprovingly.

"Squawk’s been hilarious the last few days. Full of doomsday hashtags and stuff. People are filming their parents’ reactions and uploading them to PikPok."

"These social networks are garbage. They're just full of trash."

Jonas opened WeTube, and then his eyes widened. Zek Prophète was posting again. The thumbnail showed him wide-eyed and grinning in his dimly lit shack. The title read: “I’m back guys told you so!!!” and it already had over 100,000 views.

"ZEK’S BACK! LET’S WATCH IT, IRIS!" Jonas shouted, jumping up from the bench.

"I’m not watching that lunatic..."

Jonas went home alone, and as soon as he sat on the couch, he clicked on Zek Prophète’s video.

The video showed the man’s poorly lit room. He didn’t seem to have aged much in his years away from posting. Zek began laughing, and after about forty seconds of maniacal laughter, he started to speak.

"Hey... you guys... you used to say I... I was crazy, making stuff up, right... hey..."

He pointed a finger upward, looked up, and waved at the ceiling with a grin—something he used to do in his older videos. Then he slammed both hands on the table and continued.

"There you go, the world’s ending, just like I said... the government, man... they hide stuff from us..." Zek said, eyes wide. "I knew it, man... they already knew, the Pope already knew, and only now they’re telling us... because they’re all gonna leave... they’ll find a way to save themselves, see..."

To Jonas, something felt off. Zek Prophète didn’t seem like the same person. For the first time, he didn’t seem like he was joking. The rest of the video wasn’t much different from the beginning. The comment section was a war zone. Some agreed, others laughed, and his subscriber count kept rising. What used to be ten thousand had become fifty thousand overnight.

363 days left.