Armageddon arrived on a Tuesday, as if the universe itself adhered to a grim schedule. An asteroid the size of a city struck Earth with unrelenting fury, shattering continents and unleashing a shockwave that raced ahead of the firestorms. By noon, the sky was a cauldron of ash and flame. By dusk, the world had surrendered to chaos.

In a small suburban house on Ashworth Lane, the Glomb family made their decision. While neighbors screamed and scattered, clutching at frantic escape plans, the Glombs stayed. They barricaded themselves in their living room, a fortress of ordinary comforts in a world turned unrecognizable.

It was Gigi’s idea to watch a movie. At eleven years old, she had spent half her life curled up on this couch, staring at this screen, spinning dreams from flickering images. Tonight, she wanted one last dream.

“Pick something happy,” her father murmured, his voice shaking just enough to betray him. He fiddled with the remote, hands clumsy with adrenaline.

Gigi’s small fingers brushed his. “This one,” she said, holding up the Blu-ray case. The edges were frayed from love, the cover smeared with fingerprints. Her favorite.

Her mother glanced at it, lips pressing into a thin line, then nodded. “Perfect choice, sweetheart.”

Outside, the dying sun burned crimson through the curtains, bathing the room in an otherworldly glow. The air smelled faintly of smoke, though the flames hadn’t reached their street yet. The distant thunder of collapsing buildings was a steady drumbeat, a reminder that time was running out.

The movie began, its cheerful theme song cutting through the heavy silence. Gigi curled between her parents, her head resting against her mother’s shoulder, her legs draped over her father’s lap. She giggled at the opening scene—a goofy character tripping over his own feet. Her laughter was bright, incongruous, and achingly precious.

Her father glanced down at her, his jaw tightening. “She doesn’t understand, does she?”

“She understands enough,” her mother whispered, stroking Gigi’s hair. “But she still believes in happy endings.”

He nodded, his throat working as he swallowed hard. The movie’s colorful animation reflected in his glasses, a stark contrast to the destruction creeping ever closer. He wanted to believe in happy endings too, for her sake.

An explosion rocked the street. The windows trembled, and the family froze. Gigi’s fingers tightened on her mother’s arm, but she didn’t cry out. Her parents exchanged a glance—fear darting between them like an electric current—but neither moved.

“It’s okay, Gigi,” her mother said softly. “We’re safe here.”

The lie hung in the air, fragile but necessary. Gigi settled back against her, trusting, her gaze fixed on the screen.

Her father ran a hand over his face, then leaned toward his wife. “Maybe we should’ve—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her voice firm. “We made the right choice. Together.”

He hesitated, then nodded. His hand found hers, their fingers intertwining. They sat in silence, watching their daughter laugh again as the movie’s hero triumphed over absurd odds.

As the film neared its climax, the heat became oppressive. Sweat beaded on their foreheads. The faint scent of smoke had grown acrid. The red glow outside the windows pulsed like a heartbeat, steady and inescapable.

“Mom?” Gigi asked, her voice soft. “Do you think... we’ll see Grandma and Grandpa? You know... after?”

Her mother’s throat constricted, but she forced a smile. “I think so, sweetheart.”

“Good.” Gigi smiled back, her face serene, her innocence unshaken. “I miss them.”

Her father leaned down, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “They’ll be so happy to see you.”

The final scene of the movie played out, a burst of music and color that seemed to defy the destruction outside. Gigi clapped her hands, her eyes shining with joy. “That’s my favorite part,” she whispered.

The power flickered. The TV screen dimmed and sputtered, then went black. The room plunged into silence, save for the distant roar of flames.

Gigi frowned. “Did the power go out?”

Her mother pulled her closer, burying her face in Gigi’s hair. “It’s okay, baby. Just close your eyes.”

Her father wrapped his arms around them both, his voice cracking as he murmured, “We’re right here, Gigi. We’ll always be right here.”

The flames reached the house, their heat searing, their roar deafening. But inside the cocoon of their embrace, the Glomb family clung to each other. Together, they faced the end, wrapped in love and the memory of a movie that made them forget, for a little while, that the world was dying.

As the fire consumed them, their silhouettes lingered in the flames, a fleeting echo of humanity’s light against the void.