The Airport

For six days, the international departure lounge of Terminal 3 had been a monument to human desperation. What began as a sudden, blaring EAS alert flashing across every smartphone—a nationwide emergency lockdown order with zero context—had devolved into a suffocating siege.

Cellular towers went dead within three hours. Internet backbones collapsed shortly after. The only digital pulse left was *Mysafehub*, a localized Bluetooth-mesh emergency app. Hundreds of stranded passengers spent the first forty-eight hours tapping out frantic SOS flares into the void, watching their screens display the same hollow status: *Broadcast sent. 0 peers responding.* Now, even those battery bars were dying out, replaced by a quiet, collective dread.