[ PAST 11:00 PM ]
The fluorescent lights had long since dimmed to their nighttime setting—a soft, pale glow that barely illuminated the corners of the small concrete room.
Maya lay curled on the thin mattress, her body finally surrendering to the exhaustion that had been building for days.
Her breathing was slow, even— the breathing of someone who had been pushed past every limit and had finally allowed herself to rest.
Her small frame was almost invisible beneath the thin blanket, her dark hair spread across the pillow like a shadow.
For the first time in what felt like forever, her face was relaxed.
She was dreaming. Not of the woman with the dolls. Not of the Correction Room. Not of the platform or the churning water.
She was dreaming of something else, something she couldn't quite remember when she was awake. A memory, perhaps. A fragment of a
life she had long since forgotten.
She stirred slightly, a faint smile touching her lips.
Then— [BUZZ]
The collar around her neck vibrated violently against her skin. Maya's eyes flew open.
For a brief, disoriented moment, she didn't know where she was. The dream was still clinging to the edges of her consciousness, the warm light and gentle voice fading like smoke. Then reality crashed back.
[BUZZ]
The vibration came again, sharper this time.
Maya sat up abruptly, her heart pounding. Her hand flew to the collar, her fingers finding the small indentation in the smooth surface. She pressed it.
A faint, translucent holographic display flickered to life in front of her, casting a pale blue glow across her face.
[EMERGENCY NOTIFICATION]
ALL SUBJECTS ARE REQUIRED TO REPORT TO HALL ROOM 1 IMMEDIATELY.
FAILURE TO ARRIVE WITHIN 10 MINUTES WILL RESULT IN SEVERE DISCIPLINARY ACTION.
TIME REMAINING: 9 MINUTES 47 SECONDS
She stared at the display.
Her brow furrowed. Her lips pressed together in a thin line. For a long moment, she sat there, her dark eyes fixed on the glowing words.
Then— she let out a long, exasperated groan.
"Ughhhhhh," she whined, flopping back onto the mattress.
"Are you kidding me? Now? Right now? When I was actually finally sleeping?"
She threw her arm over her eyes, her voice muffled by her sleeve.
"I was having such a good dream... It was peaceful. And you ruined it. You ruined it with your stupid buzzing collar."
She rolled onto her side, pulling the thin blanket over her head like a child trying to hide from the world.
"Maybe if I pretend I didn't see it, they'll go away. Maybe they'll forget I exist. Maybe they'll just... leave me alone."
[BUZZ]
Maya let out a frustrated scream into her pillow—a muffled, childish sound of pure, unfiltered annoyance.
"FINE!" she shouted, throwing the blanket off. "FINE! I'M COMING! STOP BUZZING!"
She sat up, her dark hair sticking out in every direction. Her eyes were still half-lidded with sleep, her face flushed with irritation.
She looked like a small, angry kitten that had just been woken from a nap. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms.
"I've been running all day. I've been fighting all day. I've been surviving all day. And now they want me to what?"
She paused, her hands falling to her lap.
"What more do they want from me? I've given them everything. I've given them my body, my will. And it's still not enough."
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head.
"Those madmens," she muttered, her voice carrying a familiar edge of irritation.
"Can't they even let me sleep? After everything I've been through today—after the training, the drills, the endless exercises— they still want more?"
She gestured vaguely at the empty room, as though addressing an invisible audience.
"Is their appetite never satisfied? Do they wake up in the middle of the night, rub their hands together and think—
'Ah yes, let's see what else we can demand from the children?'"
She paused, tilting her head.
"Probably. They probably do exactly that. They probably sit in their offices, sipping their fancy coffee and think—
'What other pointless task can we create to remind them who's in charge?'"
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her bare feet pressing against the cold concrete floor. The sensation sent a shiver up her spine but she didn't flinch. She had grown used to the cold.
She stood, stretching her arms above her head. Her joints popped, her muscles protesting the sudden movement. She winced slightly but forced herself to keep moving.
"I guess I should be grateful," she muttered, her voice dry as she reached for her uniform.
"At least they gave me ten minutes. They could have given me five. They could have just sent someone to drag me out of bed."
She paused, considering.
"Actually, they probably will send someone if I don't move fast enough. So I'd better get going."
She pulled on her uniform, her fingers moving with practiced efficiency. The fabric was rough against her skin but she had long since stopped noticing.
"What is it this time?" she muttered, her voice laced with quiet disdain.
"A new punishment? A new trial? A new way to remind us that we don't matter?"
She paused, her hands stilling on her hair.
"No. No, it's probably something more mundane. A meeting. An announcement."
She reached for her hair, her fingers combing through the tangled strands. She pulled it back with a quick, practiced motion—a thick, messy knot that kept the dark strands out of her face.
"There, Now I look presentable. Or at least less like a creature that just crawled out of a cave."
She turned to look at the holographic display one last time.
[TIME REMAINING: 7 MINUTES 23 SECONDS]
She reached up and pressed the panel on her collar. The holographic display flickered once—then faded, disappearing into the dim light of the room.
She muttered under her breath, her voice carrying a hint of childish exasperation:
"Honestly. Some people just have no sense of timing."
She walked toward the door, her bare feet making soft sounds against the concrete.
But even as she walked, she couldn't stop the stream of complaints running through her mind.
"Of all the times to call a meeting," she muttered under her breath.
"In the middle of the night. When I'm tired. When I just want to sleep. When I don't have the energy to deal with whatever nonsense they're about to throw at me."
She pressed her palm against the panel.
[ACCESS GRANTED]
The lock disengaged with a low mechanical hum. The door slid open, revealing the corridor beyond.
Maya stepped through the steel door, her bare feet pressing against the cold polished floor.
And it was already half-full.
Children stood in small clusters, their hair disheveled. Some leaned against the walls,
their heads drooping.
Others sat on the floor, their bodies slumped forward, barely able to keep themselves upright.
Maya's eyes moved across the corridor . She spotted Subject 0011 near the far wall, his thin frame hunched, his eyes half-closed. He looked like he was about to fall asleep standing up.
Subject 0014 was sitting on one of the metal benches, his broad shoulders hunched, his bald head gleaming under the lights. He was blinking slowly as though trying to remember how to stay awake.
Subject 0002 stood near the center of the corridor, her arms crossed, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd with practiced vigilance.
But even she looked tired—her posture was slightly less rigid, her jaw slightly less tight.
Subject 0004 was leaning against the far wall, his face a mask of stone. But his eyes were fixed on the door, watching the children trickle in.
Maya let out a low, quiet breath.
Well, at least I'm not the only one who looks like they've been dragged through a sewer.
She moved further into the corridor, her eyes continued to scan the crowd, taking in the details.
And then— she stopped.
Near the center of the room, a cluster of children had gathered. They were standing in a loose circle, their bodies swaying slightly.
One boy— a thin, gangly child with dark circles under his eyes— had a patch of hair sticking straight up from the top of his head.
It looked like a small, disheveled bird's nest, completely oblivious to the laws of gravity.
Another child— a girl with tangled brown hair had a similar situation. Her hair was sticking out in wild, chaotic tufts as though she had been rolling around in her sleep for hours before being abruptly awakened.
A third child—a boy with a pale, gaunt face—had a single strand of hair standing straight up from his forehead. It looked almost deliberate, as though his hair had decided to protest the midnight summons in its own small way.
Maya stared at them, her lips twitched, she let out a soft, amused huff.
"They look like bird's nests. Honestly, did they even bother to brush their hair before coming here?"
She reached up, touching her own hair. It was still neatly tied back—the messy knot she had made just moments ago. But even she had to admit, it wasn't her best work.
"At least I tried," she murmured. "That counts for something, doesn't it?"
She turned her gaze to the front of the room, where two attendants were standing beside a long metal table.
Their uniforms were crisp, their faces expressionless and in their hands—
they held metal restraints.
Maya's eyes narrowed.
She watched as one of the attendants stepped forward, approaching a small group of children.
He reached out, his fingers closing around a girl's wrist. The girl—a thin, pale child with hollow eyes—did not resist. She simply stood there, her gaze fixed on the floor, as the attendant secured a pair of metal cuffs around her wrists.
She watched as the second attendant moved through the crowd, his movements mechanical, his expression unreadable.
She took a slow, steadying breath.
Stay calm. Don't react. Don't give them a reason to single you out.
Then—one of them turned toward her.
His eyes fixed on Maya. He stepped forward . He stopped in front of her, his hand reaching out, his fingers closing around her wrist.
The attendant's secured the cuffs with a practiced twist of his wrist, the cold metal pressing against her skin.
Then he stepped back, his eyes already scanning the room for his next target.
Maya looked down at her wrists.She lifted her hands, turning them over, examining the metal bands with a mixture of curiosity and irritation.
"What a hassle," she muttered under her breath. "Honestly. What do they think I'm going to do?"
She gestured vaguely with her bound hands, the cuffs clinking softly.
"Look at me. I'm four years old. I'm barely tall enough to reach the door handle. And they're treating me like I'm some kind of escape artist.
Like I'm going to sprout wings and soar out of here the moment they look away."
She paused, tilting her head.
"I mean, I suppose I could try.
But The audacity. The sheer, unbridled audacity. They put cuffs on me like I'm a threat to national security.
Like I'm going to—what? Pick the lock with my tiny fingers? Overpower the guards with my incredible four-year-old strength?"
She shook her head slowly, her dark hair swaying, "Absolutely ridiculous.
The moment I step out of my room—bam. Cuffs. Like clockwork.
I don't understand why they bother. It's not like I have anywhere to go. Even if I did escape this room, where would I go?"
~~
Mahi let out a sound. A laugh.
It was a soft, surprised sound— the laugh of someone who had been drowning in grief and had suddenly found a small pocket of air.
"Oh my God, Look at her. Just look at her."
She pointed at the projection, her hand shaking slightly.
"She's so annoyed. She's absolutely, completely, utterly annoyed. Look at her face—she's practically radiating irritation.
She's just— she's just so done. She's so done with all of it."
Farhan was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, his face pale. But there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth—a small
smile that he couldn't quite suppress.
"She's not wrong, though, The cuffs are ridiculous. What are they going to do
stop her from flying away?"
He let out a low chuckle.
"Honestly, if someone woke me up in the middle of the night and dragged me to a room full of strangers, I'd be a lot more than just annoyed."
He paused, tilting his head.
"Actually, I'd probably try to punch someone. And then I'd get restrained. And then I'd scream some more. And then I'd probably get thrown into a cell somewhere."
He let out a dry laugh.
"Meanwhile, Maya is just standing there, making sarcastic comments about birds and tigers. She's handling this way better than I would."
Faha was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall,
"Look at her standing there, complaining about the cuffs like it's the most inconvenient thing in the world."
He let out a soft laugh.
"That's my little sister. That's my little sister."
Fahim remained near the console, his eyes fixed on the projection. His expression was carefully controlled, but there was a warmth in his gaze that hadn't been there before.
"She's displaying a normal emotional response.
That's significant. For someone who has been conditioned to suppress her emotionally."
~~
The heavy steel door slid open with a low mechanical groan.
The attendants herded the children into the Hall Room 1.
The children shuffled forward in silence, their bound hands hanging at their sides, their bare feet scraping against the cold polished floor.
Hall Room 1 was vast— larger than the training hall, with high ceilings and walls lined with metal benches.
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting their pale, sterile glow across the room.
Some of the children lowered themselves onto the metal benches.
Others simply collapsed onto the cold concrete floor, their bound hands resting in their laps, their eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Subject 0014 was one of the first to sit. He lowered himself onto the floor, his broad shoulders hunched.
His bound hands rested on his knees, his fingers curled into loose fists. His eyes were half-closed, his breathing slow and steady.
Subject 0011 was a few feet away, his thin frame pressed against the wall. His head was tilted back, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
His bound hands were resting in his lap, his fingers twitching occasionally. He looked exhausted, more exhausted than Maya had
ever seen him.
Subject 0002 had chosen a spot near the center of the room. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back straight, her sharp eyes scanning the room with practiced vigilance.
She looked like she was ready to spring into action at any moment.
Subject 0004 was leaning against the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest or rather, his bound hands resting on his arms.
Maya found a spot near the wall, her back pressed against the cold concrete.
She lowered herself onto the floor, her bound hands resting in her lap. She let out a slow breath.
Her eyes moved across the room, taking in the scene— a thought surfaced in her mind.
Those people. All of them. They're a bunch of homicidal maniacs.
She blinked, surprised by the thought. She had never used those words before, not even in her own mind. But they fit. They fit perfectly.
[Click ]
The heavy steel door slid open with a low mechanical hum.
Dr. Veyron stepped into the room, his white coat immaculate, his silver hair perfectly combed, his pale gray eyes sweeping across the gathered children with quiet satisfaction.
He moved with the unhurried grace of a man who knew he was the most powerful person in the room and wanted everyone else to know it too.
Behind him, two attendants stood at attention, their faces expressionless, their postures rigid. They did not follow him inside.
They simply stood there, waiting for his next command.
The room fell silent.
The children who had been leaning against the walls straightened slightly. Those who had been sitting on the floor shifted, their bodies tensing.
Even the ones who had been half-asleep blinked, their eyes focusing on the figure at the front of the room.
Dr. Veyron walked to the center of the hall, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished concrete.
He stopped, his hands clasping behind his back, his pale gray eyes moving slowly across the room.
His lips curved into a warm smile—the smile of a man who genuinely believed he was about to deliver good news.
"Good evening, children.
I know it's late. And I know that many of you are probably wondering why you've been summoned here at this hour.
I want to assure you— this is not a punishment. This is a gift."
A faint murmur rippled through the room. Children exchanged glances, their eyes narrowing with suspicion.
They had learned, through years of painful experience, that "gifts" in this place were
usually anything but.
"I know that many of you have grown accustomed to the restraints.
The handcuffs have been a constant presence
in your lives— a reminder of your status, your place within this facility.And I want to thank you.
Thank you for your willingness to comply with
the program's requirements, even when those requirements were... difficult."
He paused, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate register.
"I understand how difficult this has been for you and I want you to know that your endurance has not gone unnoticed.
Effective immediately, you will no longer be required to wear handcuffs when you leave
your quarters or the training hall."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Maya blinked, her breath caught in her throat. She stared at Dr. Veyron, her mind racing, trying to process what she had just heard.
No more cuffs?
She looked down at her bound wrists, the cold metal pressing against her skin. She had grown so used to them that she had almost forgotten they were there.
And now— now he was saying they would be taken off?
She forced her expression to remain neutral, her dark eyes fixed on Dr. Veyron's face.
"Starting today, you will be permitted to move freely within the facility. You will be able to walk through the corridors without restraints. You will be able to visit the common areas, the library.
I know that many of you have doubted whether this program is truly worth the sacrifices you have made.
And I want you to know that it is. Every trial, every moment of pain and struggle has been designed with a single purpose in mind:
To Help You Become The Best Version Of Yourselves."
A faint pause.
"However— there are conditions."
Maya's heart sank.
Of course there are conditions. There are always conditions.
Dr. Veyron's smile remained reassuring but his eyes hardened, just slightly.
"You will not be permitted to leave the facility. The exterior doors will remain locked at all times. Any attempt to breach them will result in immediate disciplinary action.
I'm sure you understand why this is necessary. For your own safety, of course. The world outside these walls is not kind to children like you. "
His eyes sweeped across the room.
"You will also not be permitted to enter the Instructor Floor. That area is restricted to authorized personnel only.
Any child found on the Instructor Floor will be subject to disciplinary action.
I'm sure you understand why this is necessary
as well. The Instructor Floor contains sensitive materials—
Materials that are not yet ready for young minds. I trust that you will respect this boundary."
He gestured toward the collar.
"And one more thing. Your collars have been upgraded.
Each of your collars now contains a holographic map of the facility. You will be able to access it at any time by pressing the panel on your collar.
The map will show you the entire building—including all restricted areas.
This will help you navigate the facility more easily. It will also help you avoid any areas that are off-limits. I trust you will use this information wisely."
The silence that followed was heavy. Maya could feel the weight of Dr. Veyron's words pressing down on her.
She looked down at her bound wrists, the cold metal pressing against her skin.
No more restraints. But I'm still trapped. I'm still a prisoner. They've just given me a longer leash.
But a longer leash is still a leash. And a longer leash can still be pulled tight at any moment.