The Witness Planning

Lumi had fallen asleep first.

One moment, she was sprawled on Amy's bed, humming something vaguely classical while hugging a decorative pillow — and the next, she was curled up on her side, blanket half-pulled over her, hairpin barely hanging on.

Risa didn't last much longer. She'd claimed the foot of the bed like a smug cat, phone still in hand, thumb frozen mid-scroll. Amy hadn't moved it.

She stood by the doorway now, quiet.

Watching.

Listening.

Her apartment was wrapped in late morning sunlight, filtered pale through the curtains. The faint hum of the fridge and the steady breath of her friends were the only sounds.

This was peace — unfamiliar, soft-edged, and loud in its stillness.

Amy turned away, grabbed her laptop from the desk, and sat cross-legged on the floor, back resting against her bed.

She had work to do.

Three weeks. Twenty-one days.

She opened a blank document and titled it simply:

[Phase One: Survival Planning]

Her fingers hesitated for only a second before she started typing.

Primary Shelter: Grandma's house — outskirts, secure layout, minimal population density. Prep task list:

- Reinforce windows and doors.

- Check solar panels (were installed in late 2048).

- Water filtration system — needs testing.

- Restock pantry (long-life goods).

- Install backup heating source.

Transportation:

- Revisit local garage.

- Fix old electric bike in apartment basement (charge, test range).

- Buy spare battery packs for electronics and bike.

Basic Supplies:

- Medical kit (complete set).

- Non-perishable food & bottled water.

- Clothes fit for long-term outdoor travel (boots, thermal layers).

- Tools: multi tool, duct tape, ropes, knife, flashlight, extra chargers.

- Backup phone with secure contacts.

Digital Prep:

- Download offline maps (regional and metro).

- Save survival guides and crafting PDFs.

- Encrypt sensitive documents — password: pending.

-Write cover story for extended absence from city (school leave).

Social Cover:

- Minimize future entanglements.

- Prepare believable reasons to visit Grandma's house frequently.

- Be vague, but consistent.

She scrolled further down and created a second list under a bold header:

[People to Watch]

- Lumi & Risa – protect.

- Sara – monitor. Unknown future reaction. Avoid emotional missteps.

- Laziel – avoid. Potential manipulator.

- [Redacted] – traitor. If timeline is aligned… will be active post-initiation. Early neutralization?

Her heart twisted slightly at that last one. She erased the name before it even finished appearing.

Not yet.

She leaned her head back against the bed and stared at the screen. The cursor blinked at her like it knew too much.

This would have to do for now. A foundation. A map.

Ametrine Ashryn Elaris didn't get to start fresh… but she did get a second chance.

And this time, she wouldn't wait.

Her gaze shifted toward the window. Midday light was slanting toward early afternoon.

She blinked.

"I've been at it for almost two hours…"

The girls were still asleep, curled like kittens beneath a blanket of quiet.

Amy gently closed the laptop and set it aside.

Her stomach grumbled at the same time as Risa shifted and muttered something about cake in her sleep.

Amy smirked.

Right. Food.

She got to her feet and padded into the kitchen. Her movements were practiced, automatic. She tied her hair up with a band and rolled up her sleeves.

She may have learned to cook as a necessity in the apocalypse, but long before that — before food was survival, before every bite had to be earned — she loved it.

Cooking was comfort. Control. Creation.

Even in high school, Lumi and Risa had joked about staging kitchen raids at Amy's place. Her bento boxes had once made a senior cry. They trusted her cooking more than their own homes'.

She checked the fridge. Ingredients lined the shelves neatly — mostly leftovers from her grandma's weekly habit of overstocking. Eggs. Herbs. Garlic. Leftover sourdough. Cherry tomatoes still fresh in the crisper.

She could work with this.

She smiled to herself, warming a pan with swift familiarity.

The world might end in three weeks.

But today?

She could make creamy rosemary eggs, garlic-butter toast, and baked tomato hash — something bright enough to wake her friends with a smile.