Kairos sat on his damp floor for a long time, the cold seeping through his pants, but he was too numb to care. He cradled his phone like it was the last flicker of hope in a world drowned by leaky pipes, terrible Wi-Fi, and his own spectacularly bad judgment.
Professor Evans's email glared up at him from the screen, a digital harbinger of doom.
He had to tell Ares. He couldn't tell Ares. How do you tell your brilliant, composed, probably-never-lagged-a-day-in-her-life project partner that your entire technological world had crumbled in the span of an hour? That your backup plan was now a fancy paperweight and your gaming ego was in permanent, intensive care?
He opened his messaging app. His thumb hovered over Ares's name. He started typing.
**Kairos:** Hey. So. Funny story.
He deleted it. Too vague. She might think he was about to send a meme.
**Kairos:** The project sounds great! Quick question. Do you, by any chance, own a time machine? Or a spare laptop? Or a miracle?
He deleted it. Too unhinged. He didn't want to get hit with a block.
He took a shaky breath. This was it. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the pathetic truth. *Weaponize the awkwardness,* Robin's voice echoed in his head. He typed fast, before his survival instincts could stop him.
**Kairos:** My room flooded. My spare laptop is now a fish tank. I went 0-12 in CODM and got flamed by my entire team. I think the universe is trying to tell me to drop out and become a hermit. Also, hi.
He hit send. Immediate regret. He threw his phone onto the bed like it had burned him, unable to watch. He buried his face in his hands. She was going to drop him. She was going to politely ask Professor Evans for a reassignment. She was going to—
*Buzz.*
His head shot up. He lunged for the phone.
The three typing dots appeared, vanished, and appeared again. His heart attempted a drum solo against his ribs.
**Ares:** …
**Ares:** Let me get this straight.
**Ares:** You lost a fight with a sink, murdered a laptop, and got utterly annihilated in a mobile game… all before lunch?
Kairos winced. When she put it like that, he sounded like a walking disaster zone. Which, to be fair, he was.
**Kairos:** In my defense, the sink started it. It was a premeditated attack.
The dots appeared again. He braced for the "It's not you, it's your apparent curse" speech.
**Ares:** Okay. First of all, 0-12? That's artistically bad. I'm almost impressed.
A surprised, choked laugh burst out of him. She wasn't running.
**Ares:** Secondly, forget the spare. Your main one is okay, right? The one that actually matters?
**Kairos:** Yeah, it's safe. I put it on the highest ground I could find. I learned that from Obi-Wan.
**Ares:** Good. Then we're fine. The project specs are in the email. We can figure it out. Just… maybe stay away from plumbing and ranked matches for a while. Stick to beginner bots.
Kairos stared at the screen. That was it? No panic? No dismissal? Just… a little teasing and a "we're fine"? A warmth spread through his chest that had nothing to do with the humid, water-logged air in his room. She was still in. He hadn't scared her off.
**Kairos:** You're the best. I owe you my life. And like, a million favors.
**Ares:** You can start by actually reading the project brief. It's… something. Evans wasn't kidding about it being significant. This is Final Boss level.
Kairos finally opened the email from Professor Evans. He'd been too busy having a full-blown existential crisis to actually read it earlier. Now, he wished he hadn't.
**SUBJECT: SEMESTER PROJECT: Initial Research & Proposal.**
**PROJECT TITLE:** Design and Prototype a Campus-Specific Social/Utility Mobile Application.
**OBJECTIVE:** To identify a genuine, unaddressed need within the university community and develop a working prototype for a mobile application that effectively solves it. This is not a theoretical exercise. You must demonstrate feasibility through:
- Comprehensive user research and need-validation.
- Full UI/UX wireframing and design.
- A functional backend framework (e.g., user authentication, data storage).
- A polished front-end prototype (e.g., using React Native, Flutter).
- A detailed proposal outlining development stack, implementation timeline, and potential scalability.
**DELIVERABLES:**
1. **Project Proposal Document (Due in 2 weeks):** Problem statement, target audience, competitive analysis, feature list.
2. **Mid-Term Progress Demo:** Interactive UI prototype and backend architecture review.
3. **Final Submission:** Full source code, deployed prototype (test build), final presentation, and project report.
**PARTNER PAIRING:** Kairos Trevor & Ares Peterson.
Kairos's eyes scanned the text, wider with each line. A full app? From scratch? With user research and a deployed prototype? This wasn't a project; this was a start-up incubator assignment. His panic, which had just receded, came roaring back with reinforcements. This was massive. This was terrifying. This was—
*Buzz.*
Another email notification popped up, this one from the university IT department. A cold dread settled in his stomach. It was never good news.
**SUBJECT: URGENT: Network Maintenance Notification - Hostel Block C**
**MESSAGE:** Dear Student, Please be advised that due to unforeseen critical router failures, emergency maintenance on the internet routers in Hostel Block C will begin **TONIGHT at 9:00 PM** and is estimated to last until 8:00 AM tomorrow. During this time, there will be **NO INTERNET OR LAN CONNECTION.**
Kairos's blood ran cold. No internet. Tonight. Starting in less than an hour. The night he desperately needed to download SDKs, research frameworks, scour the app stores for competitors, maybe even start a preliminary codebase to look semi-competent in front of Ares.
He was about to type another disaster update to Ares, a follow-up to his already pathetic confession, when the Wi-Fi symbol on his phone vanished.
It didn't flicker. It didn't fade. It just disappeared.
A stark, lonely "No Service" message replaced it in the top corner.
He looked at the time. 8:58 PM.
They'd started early.
Kairos let his phone drop into his lap with a soft, final thud. He looked from his main laptop, safe but utterly useless on the desk, to the dead spare laptop on the floor, to the still-dripping sink.
He had the partner. He had the project. He had the will.
But he had no internet, no backup, and apparently, no luck whatsoever.
The universe wasn't just laughing at him anymore. It was actively sitting on his chest, stealing his lunch money, and kicking his shins.
He sighed, a long, deep, suffering sound that came from the very depths of his soul. He looked around his silent, offline, water-damaged room.
"Okay," he muttered to the empty, disconnected air. "What's next? Locusts?"