The light shines through the cracked dome roof like an ethereal goddess, dancing with the specks of dust that rose from the books I pull from the shelves. In the golden light, I can make my way through the three stories of the library, despite the lack of energy powering the building.

I look up through the crack in the roof, where the sun bares down, unwavering, in its relentless onslaught of heat. I breathe in the dry air, the scent of old, dry paper filling my nostrils. I absentmindedly run my hand along the spines of the remaining inventory. They’re rough, berated by the sand that had drifted in through the broken windows over the past few years. It’s worse on the lower levels, where more rocks and heavy objects have broken in.

I used to come here, not infrequently, before everything started falling apart. I was sweet on a girl here once, back when I was half my age. It was a university library, so we were here researching sources for some literary assignment. I already had everything I needed, so she just dragged me along the aisles to help her find the specific book she desired. The passion with which she grabbed my hand and pulled me along always impressed me.

It was only a few years later that I started studying at the same university. It was a research university, with a decently well-known medical school. I was interested in becoming a doctor—but not of the medical variety. No, I was studying astrophysics. I eventually earned a doctorate… not that it matters anymore. My thesis was actually one of the first ones that suggested the global shift towards higher temperatures wasn’t being caused by human intervention, but from increased temperatures coming from the sun itself.

Ironically, it was when my research started proving true that everything fell apart. We had waited too long to see the signs; to start trying to escape our own galaxy or find shelter beyond out blue ball. The droughts were more intense, leaving us with less food, less water, and more fighting for control.

I can’t help but feel I could have stopped this. I could have done more to make the public realize the potential oncoming danger of my findings. There could have been less panic. There could have been an organized attempt to fix this instead of destroying our own organization. But, now, I’m just a former professor stuck on a drying rock in space.

The wind howls through the broken windows around me, stirring up sand and bringing more into the building. A storm is coming. I pull my goggles off of my forehead and snap them in place over my eyes. I still have to get find a specific book before I leave. It’s the school’s copy of The Theoretical Mechanics of Light in Propulsion, by Dr. Veras Stihne.

I take the stairs back down to the second floor. My bodyguard, Oberon, is calling out for me to return. I think to reply, but decide against it. He will wait for me. I run to the back corner of the library where I felt the book was and started checking the aisles. The markings labelling Library of Congress system had long since worn away, and I was forced to maneuver my way through the books by checking each shelf.

Still, I’ve always been quick within these hallowed walls. It only took me two and a half more beckons from Oberon to find the book and stash it in my pack. From here, I ran to the stairs and out to meet him.

Oberon is a tall man, standing out from the tan environment around us in his white “suit of armor.” He’s fashioned protective plates of polyethylene over Kevlar, to make himself out as some sort of white knight in this broken world. He even has a sword and shield to match his outfit. He’s donned his helmet and stands beside our van.

“There you are, Professor! I was starting to debate letting you spend the night here,” he taunts.

I wave my hand in reply, stepping around him to open the driver’s side door. I sling the bag onto the floor between the front seats and hop in as Oberon moves around to the passenger side. He slides into the seat, though not without struggling to make his sword cooperate. I crank the engine.

“To be honest with you, Oberon,” I replied, shifting gears and pulling away from the library, “I was starting to debate staying.”