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Nova tugged the stiff collar of her new shirt and wriggled under the itchy uniform as she mounted the steps of a building, abandoned nearly 30 years ago, for her first school day not in her home-pod. Like clones, 300 children crowded into this unknown territory – literally!

You see, exactly one month ago today - just before her summer 2050 exams – Nova was happily ensconced in her study-pod with her brother, Alok, and their virtual teacher when ‘it’ happened. With a whoosh and a scream, ‘Sir’ was zapped from their view like a comet, then…absolute darkness.

They scuttled through the shadows to their mum’s work-pod next door only to find the same eeriness had descended there too. Like burglars, they crept to their dad’s work-pod, quickly stepping outside into the twilight so at least they could see one another. Nova knew by the look her parents exchanged that this was no ordinary outage. This was catastrophic. Home life as they knew it had just changed, forever.

Over the coming weeks they were hurled into a frenzied world with no wifi. Who knew you could switch on lights, ovens and TVs without your phone? Like deserters, they abandoned their cosy home-pod for ‘offices’ and ‘schools’. Their beautiful town-centre leisure-dome became strewn with pop-up shops, like old Turkish bazaars. Decrepit buses chugged around them, billowing their putrid fumes into the air and Nova was expected to travel in one of these every day to this museum of a school.

So now, Nova hesitates on the steps of her first real school; no virtual teachers or computers but real people, textbooks and blackboards. If you had asked her a month ago what her home-life would be like, Nova couldn’t have imagined this. One small computer virus, one home-life altered, forever.

“Let’s get moving.”

I glanced up from packing to look at him.

“Already?” I asked. He turned to me and nodded. I finished stuffing the bag and stood up. We’d been a group for so long, it felt strange to be reduced to just two of us. I would still check behind me, a habit now, to make sure we were all safe. Now I’m only greeted with harsh, broken landscapes. We had to continue, exhausted and starving.

When it got dark, we stopped to rest. It wasn’t safe here, but it wasn’t safe anywhere. We’d walked so far. I felt we’d already passed the border and were close to the Authoritarian’s Inner Circles, but the neighbourhood we were in felt oddly familiar and comforting.

“Sage, come look.”

I turned to Myrro, who was holding a small piece of concrete. He turned it over and passed it to me. Bright colours were painted over the fragment, and something stirred inside me. I looked around. The fragmented murals were hopeful; they danced around us and the memories of painting them flooded back. After all these years, we’d made it home.

Myrro watched me, and for a moment we relaxed. Here we could be safe. We could-

A patrol found us. I felt myself instinctively grab my knife as I ducked behind one of the last standing walls. As I glanced up, the bright painting of Us caught my eye. A patroller fired. Horror filled me as a beam struck Myrro and he shattered into nothing. I pressed back against the wall and shut my eyes. After feeling lost all this time, I’d only truly felt at home with Myrro. Now he was gone. The patrol closed in. I was home, but it seemed I was to lose this as well.

Sir Jameson sat bragging about being the kingdom’s bravest and most accomplished knight. Toby, the kitchen boy, put a feast of roast beef down in front of the pompous knight. He wished he could have even a small portion of the knight’s wealth.

An old figure called from the corner of the room, “You can’t be the bravest knight if you haven’t killed Margon. Whoever vanquishes the beast gets all the treasure he protects.” Everyone knew the huge dragon that guarded the treasury tower.

“Then I’m off to get my reward.” The knight stood up valiantly. “You. I need a servant. You are to come with me, and you’ll get your reward.” The knight pointed at Toby who almost dropped his tray. Toby nodded eagerly. “Yes sir.” What an opportunity!

Toby rode beside Jameson on a grey dapple called Aster through boggy wood, following a rough road. They found a ferocious dragon scrambling on top of the tower. Shields and swords littered the grass around the tower. The dragon blew a gust of snaking fire down towards them. Jameson’s horse bolted, throwing him to the ground. Toby jumped down from Aster and Jameson sprinted to him. He swung his leg up onto Toby’s horse. “You kill it.” With that, Jameson pulled on Aster’s reins and they galloped away, leaving Toby speechless in the middle of nowhere with an angry dragon.

Toby walked carefully towards the dragon and it growled down at him. Toby suddenly had an idea. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted up at the dragon, “Do you want help getting down?”

The dragon stilled and stared down at the small boy. Then it smiled sadly. “Yes, please. No one ever offers. I want to go home.” Toby grinned and started to think of a plan.