From April 14th, Monday, to April 16th, Wednesday

April 14th, Monday.

Nearly a month had passed since the Pope’s revelation. Days had flown by for most people. And the hot topic was still whether or not the world was truly going to end.

The old gossip about trivial things like the weather, local politics, sports, or celebrity nonsense had been replaced with talk of salvation or survival. Stores began to close, some permanently, others under the pretext of “spiritual preparation.” Religious flyers and graffiti were spread across cities, and churches were always full, with masses happening at any time of day.

Schools were still open, but fewer and fewer students were attending. The more religious students brought their Bibles, while others experienced wild mood swings due to everything that was happening.

At the local high school, the teaching staff was shrinking. Many teachers had quit, abandoning their posts for religious devotion, personal indulgence, or simply because they saw no reason to continue teaching and wanted to enjoy what little time they had left. Students gossiped that one math teacher had locked himself inside his house, refusing to come out no matter what, and that another had left town in the dead of night, taking her entire family to who-knows-where. Resignation letters were flooding in—not just in schools, but everywhere.

And in the midst of this chaos, he appeared.

The man sitting in the principal’s office chair couldn’t have been younger than twenty-five. Tall, thin, dark-skinned, wearing glasses, with a close-cropped haircut, almost bald. There was a calm look on his face, a buttoned-up blue shirt, and around his neck, a chain with a small cross.

In front of the man sat a woman at least twice his age. She had fair skin and clearly weighed more than what was healthy for her height. Her brown hair was tied in a bun, she wore thick round glasses, had a large nose, bright red lipstick and nail polish, and a long black floral dress.

"So... your name is Gabriel, isn’t it?" asked the woman, looking at his résumé.

"Yes, ma’am," replied the young man.

"You can call me Ms. Lucie like everyone else does here. Look, I’ve been in education for over thirty years, but honestly, I’ve never dealt with a situation like this. You... do know what you’re getting into, right? A good portion of the teachers is already gone. The students are... distracted, to say the least. Many don’t even see a point in learning anymore."

Gabriel just nodded, letting Ms. Lucie continue.

"Only twenty years old, barely older than the students. And still in college, from what I see here. It must take about half an hour by car from your town, right?"

"I don’t come by car, ma’am. I take the bus."

"But by bus that must take almost an hour!"

"Ma’am, I need the money to pay for college and experience for my résumé, and I just saw an opportunity... I want to be here."

Ms. Lucie just sighed, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

"You know, I’ve seen panic before. When the year 2000 was coming. I saw people burying food in their yards. But this now is different. So tell me, Gabriel... do you really believe the world’s going to end in a year?"

Gabriel hesitated for a moment. He knew the weight of that question. It had been asked countless times in the past few weeks, and the answer always mattered. Whether in casual conversations, job interviews, or any other context, professional or mundane. It seemed like the only question that mattered now—the one that determined where you stood in this new world.

"Yes... I believe. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up," said Gabriel, holding his cross.

"And you still want to teach?"

"Yes, ma’am," Gabriel answered firmly. "I know time is short. But I don’t think that means we should stop living. In fact, I think we should make the most of the time we have. And these kids—they need something. Some kind of stability. Some kind of hope."

Lucie stayed silent for a few seconds, then sighed. Almost no one wanted to be a teacher anymore, and she, as an educator, couldn’t afford to pass up the opportunity.

"Alright. You start tomorrow."

April 15th, Tuesday.

The classroom was noisy when Gabriel walked in. At first, the students barely noticed him, continuing to talk loudly. He felt a bit nervous, but he had prepared. This would be his first class—his first day standing in front rather than sitting in the back. He placed his backpack on the teacher’s desk and cleared his throat.

"Good morning, class," Gabriel said.

Some students turned to look at him. Others kept gossiping. In the middle row, Jonas nudged Iris and whispered something. Renata was seated in the back, eyes down, uninterested, staring at her notebook.

"I’m Teacher Gabriel. I’ll be teaching languages, literature, and whatever else I’m needed for," he tried again.

"Why?" asked Bernard, a redheaded boy with a pompadour—one of the loudest in the room. "What’s the point?"

Some students agreed. Others tried to stifle their laughter at the classmate’s boldness. Still others simply looked at Gabriel, waiting to see how he’d respond.

Gabriel had prepared for this. He knew something like this would happen. But now that he was here, standing in front of them, the weight of the question hit harder than he expected. He took a deep breath.

"Because we’re still here," he replied. "Because literature is about people. About emotions. And if this really is the end of the world... Don’t we want to understand it? Don’t we want to understand ourselves?"

The class fell silent until another voice broke through.

"Sounds like nonsense, sir," said a sleepy voice. It was Nathan, a boy with messy brown hair, who, while not noisy, often caused mischief.

"Well, maybe it is nonsense," Gabriel admitted. "Maybe all this end-of-the-world stuff is. But I’d like to believe that all of this matters. That even in our last year, we can still grow. We can still think. We can still feel. Let’s get started. Open your books to page 43."

The room resumed its whispering. Iris watched Gabriel with curiosity. It was clear he was different from the other teachers. But she still wasn’t sure if what he said was genuine. If he believed the end was coming, why did he still care?

Renata didn’t lift her head. She had no interest in what the new teacher had to say and just kept doodling in her notebook. Jonas, meanwhile, leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. He wasn’t sure Gabriel would last. He wasn’t sure anything would last with the world the way it was.

April 16th, Wednesday.

After his second day as a teacher, Gabriel returned home exhausted from college. His yard was littered with flyers. To make things worse, a hedonistic neighbor was blasting loud some irritating music. Gabriel microwaved his dinner and turned on the TV. The news once again showed that society was slowly transforming.

Supermarket shelves were thinning—not due to supply issues, but because people had stopped buying non-essential goods. What was the point of long-term planning? Bank accounts were being drained. Weddings were happening at an accelerated pace. People were doing whatever they could to tie up loose ends or fulfill some last wishes to make their final year count.

The internet had labeled believers as “apocalyptics” and skeptics as “non-apocalyptics.” Protests had begun in larger cities—some demanding government action, others calling for repentance and declaring the end was near.

Scrolling through his Squawk feed, Gabriel saw Zek Prophète again. He’d never watched one of the man’s videos, but it was clear Zek was gaining fame. His utterly insane videos were becoming memes for most, but for a few equally unhinged people, they were becoming sacred scriptures.

But the only thing that mattered to the young teacher was trying to give lessons—trying to give his students a ray of joy in a moment when the world seemed to be going just as mad as the videos of the man who called himself a prophet.

339 days left.