The morning sunlight is not so enchanting, and the town has become lifeless. No one questions the gunshots from last night; everyone just lowers their heads and silently quickens their pace as they pass by that house.

There are hardly any people walking on the street. Remembering the bustling crowds from before, the girl feels uncomfortable in her heart. She gazes at the house in front of her for a long time and lets out a sigh.

Continuing towards the school, she cannot see the familiar breakfast stall. Just a week ago, many passersby would stop to gaze at the fragrant food. Now it has become desolate, leaving a void in her heart. Some tables and stools are scattered on the ground, twisted and fallen, indicating that their owner left in a hurry, even forgetting to take their phone and wallet from the stall.

Or perhaps...

The girl does not want to think about those things anymore and silently quickens her pace. Speaking of which, classes at school have been suspended since "that day." But the girl voluntarily goes to school to help, assisting the teachers in dealing with the sudden changes that occurred after "that day."

"That day." She silently repeats in her heart.

It feels like a year has passed, even though it has not been long. Recent events and the sounds she hears seem to stretch time, indistinguishable from a chaotic tape. Every minute feels so heavy. The girl feels that the road to school has become rugged and long, with an eerie silence along the way. There have been no buses these days, and of course, no one would take a bus. Everyone is not in a hurry, or rather, they have lost the urgency to rush to work or school.

Just like every other day walking to school, only fifteen minutes have passed on the clock. At this time every day, the school's big clock would strike on time, producing a heavy and reassuring chime. Recently, however, it seems to have fallen ill, and its sound has become much lower.

"Hearing this chime is rather annoying," the girl mutters to herself.

The school has lost the atmosphere of the usual morning classes. During the autumn school season, teachers would stroll leisurely, couples would hold hands and walk together, and students would rush with breakfast, fearing they would be late. The autumn leaves would fall, accompanied by the morning light, creating a sense of tranquility.

But now, the bare trees show no signs of life. Even though today is a sunny day, it always feels like it might rain. In this season, when it is neither too cold nor too hot, if it were to rain, it would feel more like tears left by the sky.

As she walks into the teaching building, she sees no one. Finally, she spots a few figures near the office. After "that day," these few figures are the only ones bustling in this empty campus.

"Teacher..." the girl slowly speaks. (Here, it should be noted that unless otherwise stated, all dialogues in this article are conducted in the snowfield language, which is an important detail; language issues will cause trouble for the girl later.)

"Ah, you’re here," the young teacher in front of her replies wearily, then turns around and puts down the box in her hands.

"How are you today? Do you need any help?"

The habitual greeting slips from her lips, feeling a bit awkward in this situation. But no one minds this.

"Today, the textbooks from the snowfield have arrived..." the young teacher looks at the box beside her and says, "I’ve seen them many times on the computer, but this is the first time I’ve seen the actual items... I feel a strange sensation in my heart."

"Ah, indeed..." the girl says as she looks at the books.

"In the past, each teacher would privately read these books and then write the texts to send to the students. After all, we are all speaking the snowfield language here... But thinking about it, once that group of people arrives, these things will have to be forcibly distributed to everyone..."

"What about the books in the grassland language?"

"They will probably be burned."

The two look towards the library, where a place that once hung a flag now looks bare, just like the trees outside, appearing lifeless.

"In a few days, the teaching team from the snowfield will also come over. It’s still empty here these days; the students are all at home. But looking at this situation, it seems it will take a while before we can go back to school."

"Hmm..." The girl stares at the empty spot where the national flag used to be, not wanting to say anything.

Today, something is already missing. The school, which originally had few people, now feels even more...

"Perhaps things will get better later," the teacher comforts her.

Today, he also does not want to say much.

The absence of a familiar figure in the already lifeless school seems to have become a scar on the campus. Today is different from the past; it is even less than yesterday, when at least everyone could encourage each other and talk.

Strangely, everyone is trying to avoid discussing a certain topic, even avoiding conversation.

The two then briefly talked about what they would need to do today and what the girl would be busy with—not anything complicated, just handling some student files.

"Today, can I go to the classroom?" the girl asks, holding a stack of documents.

The classroom is on the second floor, where the girl used to attend classes every day. Sitting in the classroom, she might feel a bit more natural.

"That's fine, just don't leave the teaching building."

The girl steps up the stairs and heads towards the classroom.

The door is locked, and dust has settled on the doorknob, indicating it hasn't been opened for a while. She skillfully finds the key that has never changed its position on the door, wipes the dust off the doorknob, and unlocks the door.

The classroom still looks the same.

The girl resets the key and closes the door, sitting down in her spot to start processing the students' file information.

The sunlight streaming through the glass is not warm, but it is enough to make the girl feel a bit better. The sunlight seen from this angle feels just as comfortable as it did in the past.

Perhaps in search of that "feeling," she tries to relax in this eerily quiet morning. She does her best to recall the scenes from her daily classes. Even the pen she uses is the same one she has always used. She perks up her ears, trying to listen to the rustling sound of the wind moving the branches outside. Even though this sound is so small and annoying during exams, now, the girl enjoys this sound.

It seems she has grasped that lost feeling a bit.

She remembers the days when everyone had physical education class and occasionally had to rest in the classroom due to poor health. The classroom looks just like this. It is very quiet in the classroom, and occasionally she can hear the cheers from the playground or the sounds of lessons from other classrooms. At that time, the girl looked at the empty classroom, with pens, books, and exercise books scattered across different desks. The blackboard was half-erased, and she thought to herself that it would be nice if everyone came back a little later. She hoped that the noisy boys wouldn’t disturb her precious quiet time to take a short nap or listen to songs in the afternoon.

But now, she hopes everyone can come back, return to their previous lives. Everyone is busy with their campus lives, and the atmosphere of vitality and knowledge spreads through the corridors and classrooms. That scene, which clearly hasn’t been long ago, now seems to be gone forever.

Unknowingly, she has processed many files and wants to go out for a walk. After locking the door behind her, the girl heads to the rooftop.

2

The girl can clearly hear a new set of footsteps coming from the corridor. They do not belong to the few teachers or staff working here, but rather the footsteps that shock the girl a bit.

"Who could that be?"

The girl, who had just come down from the third floor, paused and did not chase after them directly. She slowed her pace and approached the closed classroom, reaching for the key on the door, only to find that the key, which had always been in that spot, was missing.

The classroom door was not locked, so she slowly opened it to look inside, but there was no one there, which felt quite strange.

The girl stepped back from the classroom and looked outside the door. Coincidentally, she noticed that the door of another classroom had suddenly opened. A child in a school uniform, looking about 8 or 9 years old, came out holding two keys.

The two locked eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

The girl vaguely recognizes that this is a lower-grade student, but suddenly feels it is very strange. In such a scene, why would a seemingly lost student come to this place?

"Senior sister," the boy looks at the girl with clear eyes, "Why is everyone gone? Why haven’t we had school for the past two weeks? Where did everyone in the school go, and what about the science teacher? I heard he has been at school these days..."

The girl is momentarily stunned by such questions. Especially when she hears the words "science teacher," a fresh, unhealed scar is directly uncovered by this little boy who does not yet understand the situation.

"I heard that the snowfield people are coming. Is that true? We haven’t dared to go out these days..." The little boy says a bit incoherently. Indeed, this child, who is not yet ten years old, has not seen peers for a while.

He seems unable to comprehend the series of events that have occurred recently: why school suddenly stopped, why pedestrians on the street have disappeared, and the matter of the snowfield people, etc. All of these are mixed together, impacting his newly established worldview.

"Let’s not talk about that for now. How did you get out? Is there no one at home?" The girl looks at the little boy with a questioning gaze.

"Last night, my parents told me to go out for a while, and they haven’t come back by morning. I thought I’d come out to take a look..."

"Is there no one else at home?" The girl asks him in surprise.

"There’s also grandma. She doesn’t know I came out; I sneaked out."

The girl pats her chest and breathes a sigh of relief. She thinks about how terrifying it would be if this child were left alone at home like that. The girl says nothing, just walks over and gently pats his head.

"What about the science teacher? Why are so many people talking about this in the group this morning?"

The girl’s heart trembles as she takes out her phone to check the school group chat. The local signal still works; it connects to the network that was installed by the snowfield people a few days ago, which no longer communicates with the main area of the grassland.

Many people are discussing the gunshots from last night, and they probably all know that the kind teacher was killed. The girl recalls the gunshots and car sounds that came from the neighboring house after the officer left last night, and her body suddenly stiffens. For a moment, it feels as if her soul has left her body, leaving her standing there in a daze.

"Senior sister, are you okay?"

(Fragment 2 unfinished)