Six months ago, the sun's death was announced, shaking the Earth to it's core.

Six months have passed since then.

Six months until the sun dies.

Six more moons to watch before the world ends.

For most people, the apocalypse was a tragedy. For him, it was a dream come true. A night-shift hotel worker who despises the sun and worships the moon, he spends his final days smoking in the quiet hours and watching the world rot from the sidelines.

That is, until he crosses paths with a strange woman carrying a plastic mask, a can of spray paint, and an invitation to something absurd: a cult that celebrates the end.

Now, between cleaning up after guests and counting down the days, he has a choice—keep drifting alone until the bitter end, or let himself get pulled into the chaos.

After all, what does it matter? The sun is going kablooie, anyway.