Days blurred into something shapeless.
They fed me—just enough. Water came through a narrow slot. Sometimes late. Sometimes not at all. Hunger became a quiet companion, sitting beside me.
I couldn't bear the pain. They used to inject different types of poison into my body. It felt like my whole body was going to collapse.
The first time I tried to run—really run, toward the seam of the glass where I thought there might be weakness—they let me reach it.
They let me hope.
Then—
The floor gave way beneath my legs.
Pain followed.Sudden. Blinding. Enough to steal the breath from my lungs before a sound could form. I didn't understand what had happened—only that i couldn't stand anymore.
Outside, someone spoke.
"Subject 17B exhibits strong escape instinct. Increase corrective measures."
Such a quiet word for something that shattered bone.
Another day—they brought me something sweet.Candy.Bright. Colorful. A cruel contrast
to the gray world i lived in. I stared at it for a long time before touching it, as if afraid it might disappear. That was the trap.
The moment i took it, the moment a flicker of something soft crossed my face—
They acted.
My hand was taken.All of my ten fingers—small—met force that did not care for their fragility. Pain bloomed again, sharper this time, deliberate.
Lesson two.★Hope is a punishment.★
Time did not pass there the way it should.
Only cycles of light and dark controlled by unseen hands. Sleep came in fragments, broken by sounds, distant echoes of things i could not name.
Sometimes they spoke to her.
"Run. Run again."
"Try."
"Let's see how long this one lasts."
And i did. Again and again.
Ohi's tears fell silently, tiny drops that spattered the marble floor, each a fragile echo of horror.
I managed to survive the first phase, but no one else in my generation survived except me.
Every day was no longer random suffering. It was refined.They studied me.
And then they shaped the pain accordingly.
—
There were days when the air itself turned against me.
Without warning, the temperature would fall—slow at first, then sharply. Cold crept into the glass, into the floor, into my bones. My small fingers stiffened, my breath turning shallow, I would curl into myself, trying to hold warmth that no longer existed.
Outside, they watched."Observe endurance threshold," a voice would murmur.
If I stayed still too long—if i tried to survive by becoming quiet, —the cold deepened faster.
Lesson.Quietness is not safety.
Other days, the opposite came.
Heat.
Not fire, never something so obvious. Just a rising warmth that pressed against my skin, then burned. The glass walls held it in, turning the chamber into something suffocating. Sweat blurred my vision .
Water would be placed just outside reach.
Close enough to see.Never close enough to touch.
I learned to look away.
Because reaching only made it worse.
—
There were sounds.Endless, relentless sounds.
Not loud enough to deafen—but constant enough to erode. A low hum that never stopped. Metallic echoes. Distant cries—real or recorded, I could never tell. They seeped into my mind, stealing sleep.
When I covered my ears, the sound would changed.Sharper.As if it lived inside my head now.
Sometimes, they opened the cell.To change the rules.
The floor would shift, uneven now, forcing me to balance, to move. Small mechanisms hidden beneath would activate if i stood too long in one place—sharp enough to hurt.
"Adaptation rate improving," someone would note.
Food became another lesson.Some days, it came easily.Placed gently inside, harmless.
I would hesitate now.Even hunger learned caution.
Other days, it was delayed—hours stretching until my stomach twisted in on itself. When it finally arrived, it was placed in a way that forced movement .
Eat—and suffer.Don't eat—and weaken.
There was no correct choice.
Farhan turned away, shuddering, unable to witness the unfolding nightmare.
Rahi's voice did not rise—
it fractured.
"I remember that room…" he said, staring at nothing and everything at once.
"The place where they didn't test you… they fixed you."
The hall felt colder.
Rahi swallowed hard, his fingers trembling slightly, as if they still remembered restraints that were no longer there.
"They called it the Correction Room," he continued slowly.
"But there was nothing to correct… only things they wanted to erase."
—
It was darker than the cells.Not completely dark.Merciful enough for that.
"I was already there when they brought her in," Rahi whispered.
I had been restrained—arms held back, wrists bound to cold metal. My breathing uneven, anger still burning in my chest.
I had fought them.Refused to listen.
And that… was enough to earn me a place there.
"They dragged her ."
"She had tried to escape again."
A pause.
"And they hated that about her."
—
The door opened with a heavy sound.And she was thrown inside.Small.Bruised.
Rahi's voice dropped.
"She didn't cry."
This piqued my curiosity about her.
Mahi's hands covered her mouth,whimpering.
I stared at her.Confused.
"How are you standing?" his voice hoarse, breath uneven.
"They just punished you."
She didn't answer at first.She adjusted her balance.
"They always do," she said quietly.
"Are you pretending?"
Maya tilted her head slightly.Almost thoughtful.
"If I shake," she replied, "they watch longer."
Back then, I stared at her like she was something unreal."You're… strange," i muttered.
Silence stretched between them.
Then i spoke again, quieter this time.
"…Does it hurt?"The question slipped out before i could stop it.
She didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"Yes."
"…Then why are you acting like it doesn't?"
"Because pain is not important."
I let out a short, disbelieving breath.
"That's a lie."
Her voice came back, just as quiet.
"No.It doesn't change anything."
Now Maya started talking again,
"…What's your name?" he asked suddenly.
I didn't look at him.faint pause.Then—
"17B."
…I'm 13A," he said quietly.His voice in the present broke apart at the edges.
"She wasn't normal…"
A pause.
"…She was the only one who still believed in escape."
Another pause."And somehow…"
His voice dropped—"She made me believe it too."
" I wanted to live, even for one pain-free moment. I ran barefoot over wires. But they caught me. Injected needles into my back. Told me I'd never run again."
A single tear slid down Rahi's cheek.
But I ran anyway," Maya murmured, voice almost spectral.
"One day, I broke through the chamber. I didn't care if I died. I just wanted to see the sky. To feel freedom. And then… I met him. A boy."
Her voice faltered, touched briefly with fragile warmth.
"His name was Arab. He wasn't one of them. He wasn't a test subject. He was… kind."
"I didn't know what sunlight felt like… before him."
Her eyes were unfocused, seeing something none of them could.
"He didn't speak at first. Just… stood there. Like he wasn't sure if I was real.
A faint pause.
"I thought he would leave. Everyone always left."
But he didn't.
—
"The first thing he did…" her fingers twitched slightly, as if remembering the motion, "he gave me water."
I didn't drink it. Not immediately. I thought… there must be a reason. There's always a reason."
Her lips parted slightly."He just sat there. Didn't force me. Didn't say anything."
A breath."So I drank."
Fahim whispered, reverent, broken: "He saved you…"
"He found me by the riverbank. Never asked about my past, my wounds, my captivity. Not about the number. Not about why I flinched when he moved too fast."
"He just… stayed."
Her voice softened, almost unrecognizable now."He used to bring things… small things. Food he shouldn't have taken. Once…" a faint
passed through her expression, almost something like wonder, "once he brought a piece of fruit."
"I didn't know what it was."
A pause."He laughed."
The room stilled.
Because that word—laughed—did not belong to the girl they knew.
"He said, 'It's not poison.'"
"I still didn't believe him."
A fragile echo of something almost human brushed her voice.
"But I ate it anyway."
Fahad's voice trembled. "Please, Maya, stop talking…"
"Sometimes," she continued, "he would sit near the vent… and tell me things."
Her head tilted just a fraction,
"About the sky. About how it changes color. About how rain sounds on rooftops."
A long pause stretched.
"I thought he was lying."
Her voice dropped even further,"I had never
seen those things."
Sobs broke out across the hall, subtle, collective. Perhaps Nahi's. Perhaps every soul present, forced to bear witness to a child's life ripped apart.
—
"He tried to teach me how to… be normal."
The word felt foreign on her tongue.
"'You don't have to look at everything like it's going to hurt you,' he said."
A breath.
"I didn't understand what that meant."
Her voice thinned.
"He showed me how to walk without… expecting the ground to betray me."
A small pause.
"How to sleep without waking up every time something moved."
There was silence in the hall now. Listening.
—
"One day," she said slowly, "it rained."
We weren't supposed to be outside. But he found a way."
"The sky was… black and white. Loud. The air felt strange."
A breath."I didn't like it.""Water… falling from the sky."
The words came almost like disbelief.
" I thought… it was another test."
Her throat tightened slightly.
"But he…he laughed again."
"He said, 'It's just rain.'""His hands touched my head."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"They were cold."
Another breath."But not painful."
"He said… 'See? Not everything hurts.'"
The words hung in the air.
—
"And I believed him.Sometimes I would wake up… and he would still be there."
Her breathing slowed.
"I didn't understand why.He stayed…"
"…until they took him away."
Mahi was the first to break.
Her fingers trembled against the edge of the table, nails pressing into polished wood as if she needed something solid to keep from falling apart.
"They… took him?" her voice came out uneven, barely holding shape. "Took him where? Why would they—what would they do that to him?"
Her eyes searched the room, desperate for an answer no one could give.
—
Fahad exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face.
"That's not the point, Ma," he muttered, but even his voice lacked its usual control. "The point is… they let her have something—someone—and then they ripped it away."
His jaw tightened.
"On purpose."
Fahan let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh—dry, hollow.
"So it wasn't just survival training," he said, "It was conditioning. They were teaching her what attachment costs."
He stopped, looking toward the space where Maya stood.
"They didn't just break her body… they rewired her mind."
Fahim adjusted his glasses, but his hands were not steady.
"That kind of pattern…" he spoke slowly, "it's deliberate psychological dismantling. You give stability, then remove it violently. "
A pause.
"The brain learns faster that way."
His voice dropped.
"It learns not to trust… anything."
Farhan, who had been silent until now, spoke without looking up.
"That's why she said she doesn't deserve love.".
Mahim shook her head again,
"No," he whispered. "No, A child shouldn't have to learn something like that."
Mahi's voice rose, breaking under its own weight.
"She shouldn't have to believe that love disappears!"
—
As the serum's effect waned, her voice sharpened : "This house… it is just another lab. And you…" Her gaze swept the hall, freezing every soul.
"You are no different from them. Just you all don't wear doctor's coat."
She staggered to her feet, each word a shard of ice through the assembled,
"You wanted the story. Now carry it. Never regret what you all doing. "
She stood without any emotion but everyone is.... shattring into sobs.
Her words were quiet.But each one struck like iron.
"They made me bleed until I forgot what my body was."
"They made me scream until I couldn't hear my own voice."
A pause.
"They made me disappear."
No one interrupted.
She lifted her eyes.Something deeper moved there now ,
"Do you know what it means,to wake up every day… and feel nothing but pain?"
"To stitch your own skin… because no one else will?"
Silence.
Then —
She tilted her head, and for a moment the air seemed to thin around her . Then, with a single motion, she reached for the edge of her blouse.
Her fingers trembled only slightly, The fabric shifted, baring a small part of her throat.
And there — against the pale skin of her neck — were scars.
Jagged. Darkened. Faded with time. Some thin and sharp like blades that had kissed too deep. Others thicker, twisted, like burns or bindings that had eaten into her flesh.
The room gasped.
Mahi's knees buckled and she collapsed into the nearest chair, sobbing into her hands.
Fahad stumbled back a step, his eyes wide, his fists shaking as though he could not decide whether to break or to fall apart.
Mahim, who had spoken with doubt moments ago, staggered under the weight of what he saw.
Ohi's mouth fell open, his words dying in his throat. Anik's face drained of color melting into horror.
The scars spoke.They spoke of nights without mercy. They spoke of silence endured, commands defied .
Maya's voice cut through the silence,
"You ask for proof. You ask for truth. Here it is."
Her hand lingered at her collar, pressing the fabric aside for another moment, forcing them to look. To see.
Her hand released the fabric. Slowly, she covered her throat again. The silence that followed was unbearable, pressing into the chest of everyone present until they could not breathe.
Mahi sobbed , shaking as though the sight alone had broken her heart.
Fahad turned away, slamming his fist against the wall, his teeth gritted to hold back his own cries. Shame burning into his features as he lowered his head, unable to meet her eyes.
Maya turned her gaze on him —
"You didn't want to know. Doubt is easier than truth.
You wanted to believe, I was lying because then you would not have to carry the weight of what you have forced me to live again."
Her words were not shouted. They did not need to be. Each syllable struck like thunder rolling through the bones of the hall.
Ohi whispered, almost to himself, "God forgive us…"
Anik took a step back, his arrogance shattered, his voice hollow. "We… we didn't know…"
Mahi stepped forward, trembling, tears streaming. "Maya, please forgive us —"