A loud beep startled the new arrivals awake. The sound was sharp and persistent, enough to make anyone abandon the thought of going back to sleep. Lily groggily sat up. The tablet beside her bed beeped again, its screen lighting up. She reached for it and found a schedule display ,activities arranged in various time intervals, with a small box beside each one. Presumably, that was where the completed tasks would be marked.
She swiped up and down, then tried leaving the interface to check other applications, but the screen stayed locked on the task page. Seriously? They had to make a whole tablet just an organizer. She snorted and dropped it back on the bed.
Yawning, she stretched and glanced through the glass panel. Others were already awake too, each staring at their own electric organizer. Lily looked toward Zach's quarantine chamber to see what he was doing. Amused, she watched him still lying on his bed, as if he hadn't heard the loud beep earlier.
The sudden clang of the metal door made everyone freeze. The lady in the lab coat, the same one who had welcomed them on arrival, stepped inside with two guards behind her. These guards wore different uniforms from the ones yesterday, but their faces were still hidden behind the same dark visors.
The woman adjusted the microphone and earpiece attached to her head before speaking.
"I'm Dr. Emma Larson, but you can call me Dr. Larson," she said briskly, not waiting for a reply. "All new arrivals should stand in front of the glass panel in their quarantine cell."
Lily moved slowly to the glass panel, just like the others. By now, Zach had woken. He stood up and dragged himself toward the glass with a sluggish pace.
"I assume you all checked your organizers," Emma continued after a short pause. "As you may have seen, today you will undergo a series of biological tests. But before that, you are expected to take a shower and change into the clothes that will be slipped through the opening in your doors. After that, your food will be sent in. You will be escorted, one after the other, for the tests. Please ensure that after removing your clothes, they are disposed of in the trash."
Her eyes swept across the faces behind the glass, lingering just slightly on Lily before she turned and walked out. That subtle pause didn't escape Zach. He watched Emma's retreating figure thoughtfully before flopping back onto the soft mattress. Things weren't as simple as they seemed, he thought.
As promised, clothes and breakfast were delivered soon after, and the new arrivals were given one hour before the tests began.
Classified Wing, Observation Deck.
The room was quiet, except for the soft hum of machines and the occasional click of a pen against metal. The only light came from a wall of monitors, casting a pale blue reflection across the metal desk.
A man sat alone, his features barely distinguishable in the dim light. His ID badge lay face down on the desk, the name didn't matter. A steaming mug sat untouched beside him, long gone cold.
Six screens flickered before him, each showing different subjects. Three girls, three boys fresh from the Hope Sector, all confined. But his attention wasn't on the others. Only cell number 5 held his interest.
The girl lay on her stomach across the bed, knees bent slightly, feet kicking lazily in the air. A pencil moved in her hand as she drew.
"Zoom in," he murmured.
The screen adjusted. The camera focused on her face , her delicate brow tilted forward, eyes locked on the sketch, lips moving faintly as if talking to herself. No audio. That was intentional. Subjects revealed more when they thought they couldn't be heard.
On the page, a face was forming. His fingers twitched. The sketch was nearly complete :a boy's face, older than hers, tired eyes, familiar lines.
Alexander MacLean.
The same one flagged for increased internal stress reading, and limited outside communication less than three days ago. The same one who had filed a request to be notified of any Hope Sector arrivals — a request that had been denied.
He tapped his tablet. Her intake file appeared:
Subject: Lily MacLean
Age: 15
Medical clearance: Pending
Symptoms: Pending
Requested items: Pencil, paper — approved
Current activity: Rest
Family match: Alexander MacLean, Virology Department, Subject A48
He looked back at the monitor. The girl now lay curled on her side. Sheets of paper peeked from under her pillow, he assumed she had finished drawing.
Adjusting the camera angle, he zoomed in slightly. She was younger than most, just fifteen according to her file. But something in her eyes didn't match the number.
She had a small face, soft with youth, but already sharpened around the eyes, as if the world had tried to harden her too early and hadn't quite succeeded. Her dark lashes rested still against her pale cheek. Strands of black hair slipped over her brow — loose, slightly messy from lying down.
Her features were delicate, the kind that would normally vanish into a crowd, yet something about her refused to disappear. There was a strange alertness in the way she moved — not restless, not nervous, just aware. She had noticed the camera. She hadn't stared, smiled, or waved like the others did. She had only looked up, holding the gaze for a long, still moment, as if she knew someone was watching.
He turned back to his tablet. Another tab, another window.
Subject A48.
Alexander McLean
Virology Division
Class B, Clearance
Special Assignments: Containment
Research
Recent performance notes: Above-average compliance.
Requests Denied: Communication to family
Emotional variance Detected after request denial.
He narrowed his eyes. Interesting timing.
A soft tone rang from the tablet. A message slid across the screen:
Incoming directive: Watch list sync. Cross-reference required for a new arrival. Connected to Subject A48.
He tapped open the command. A field appeared beside Lily's name. His finger hovered over the flag icon. She hadn't done anything yet.
He tapped.
Flagged.
Observation only. Notify if deviation occurs.
The icon blinked yellow. Not red. Not yet.