~~
The projection flickered. A hum filled the room as the screen shifted, a single line of text appeared:
[MEMORY COMPLETE. LOADING NEXT MEMORY: 1 YEAR, 8 MONTHS LATER]
Mahi's hand flew to her mouth. "One year and eight months.....She was only four years old in the last memory.
Somehow, that number felt impossible.That means she's..."
"Almost six," Fahim finished quietly. His voice was hollow.
Farhan let out a slow, shaky breath. "A year and eight months. That's... that's a long time. A lot can happen."
~~
[Click] The door slid open with a low mechanical hum.
Maya stepped inside. One year and eight months had passed.It felt like a lifetime. It felt like no time at all.
She had changed. Not just on the outside—though that was noticeable enough.
Her body had grown slightly, her cheeks had filled in a little. She was still small, still the smallest of the group.
But her eyes had changed most of all.
They no longer held that darting gaze— the look of a child who was constantly bracing for the next blow. Instead, there was a cold stillness in them. A quiet, patient watchfulness.
She moved to the center of the room and stopped. Her hands clasped behind her back. Her posture straight.
Behind her— Subject 0002 A.
She moved like a shadow, her posture coiled with restrained power. Her cropped black hair was the same, her sharp, calculating eyes the same.
But there was something different about her now—a quiet intensity that hadn't been there before.
Behind her—Subject 0004 A.
The scar across his face had faded slightly, but it was still visible—a pale line that cut through his eyebrow and disappeared into his hairline. His jaw was tighter now, his shoulders broader.
His eyes were still cold, still unreadable.
But there was something beneath the surface now. A flicker of something that might have been respect or perhaps it was simply the recognition.
He had watched Maya rise. He had watched her fall, watched her get back up, watched her keep fighting when everyone else would have broken. And somewhere along the way, he had stopped seeing her as a liability.
Behind him—Subject 0011 A.
He was still thin, but there was a new steadiness in his posture. His glasses were new—the frames thicker, the lenses clearer. He no longer looked like he was about to shatter at any moment.
His hands no longer trembled. His shoulders no longer hunched. He walked with his head slightly raised, his eyes fixed forward.
He had found something inside himself during those months—something that had been buried deep beneath layers of fear and self-doubt.
And finally—Subject 0014 A.
The tall boy who had once mocked Maya. The one who had called her "too small," who had laughed at her during her first trial.
He walked at the back of the group, his broad shoulders tense, his jaw tight. His bald head gleamed under the fluorescent lights.
He had stopped mocking Maya after the third month. He had stopped mocking anyone after the fourth.
He had learned, through painful experience that arrogance was a luxury he could not afford.
The training hall stretched before them, vast and silent.
The Instructor stood at the front of the room, her hands clasped behind her back, her amber eyes moving across the five figures before her.
Her posture was relaxed, too relaxed as though she was enjoying a pleasant afternoon stroll. A faint smile touched her lips. It was the smile of someone who genuinely enjoyed her work.
"Ah, Here we are. The final trial of Code Red."
She took a slow step forward, her heels clicking against the polished concrete. Tap..Tap..Tap.
"Subject 0014. Subject 0002. Subject 0004. Subject 0011. You have all been here before, haven't you?
Standing in this very spot. Feeling this very weight pressing down on your shoulders."
She let out a soft, amused hum.
"And yet— here you are again like faithful little dogs returning to their master's feet. Look at yourselves. Five pathetic little creatures. Too stubborn to die."
Subject 0002's eye twitched. Her hands curled into fists. Subject 0004's face remained a mask of stone but his knuckles had gone white.
The Instructor's eyes glowed with cruel satisfaction.
"But I must admit, I am somewhat impressed. You have returned to this stage faster than I anticipated. Faster than I expected. "
For a long moment, she simply looked at Maya. Her eyes moved across Maya's face, studying her with an intensity that bordered on fascination.
"Subject 17 A ... You are the one who truly fascinates me. The youngest subject in this facility. The smallest. The most fragile in appearance.
In all my years of teaching .... I have never seen a subject advance through the codes as quickly as you have."
Maya met her gaze. Her expression remained neutral, her dark eyes unreadable. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"Do you understand what that makes you?
Anomaly. A beautiful, fascinating anomaly.
I cannot wait to watch you break—or rise. Either way, it will be beautiful."
Maya's eyes remained fixed on the Instructor.
She didn't need to rise, she didn't need to prove anything, she simply needed to remain herself.
And somehow, in this place that had become the most difficult form of rebellion.
The Code instructor turned, her white coat billowing behind her as she walked toward the center of the room.
Maya watched her. She had been watching her for five months now. Observing And she had come to a quiet, unsettling conclusion:
This woman is not normal.
At first, she had assumed the Code Instructor was simply strict. Harsh.
The kind of person who believed that discipline and pain were the only ways to shape a child.... into something useful.
She had thought, She's just doing her job. She's just following orders. She's just... like the others.
But she had been wrong.
Over the months, Maya had seen the cracks in the Instructor's mask. The way her eyes lit up when a child fell. The way her voice softened when she spoke of pain.
The way she lingered over injuries, studying them with the quiet fascination of a collector admiring a rare artifact.
She loved the way they broke—and the way some of them, against all odds, refused to.
Maya's stomach tightened.
She's worse than the woman with the dolls.
The woman with the dolls had been possessive. Obsessive. She had wanted to own Maya, to mold her into a perfect plaything.
She had wanted to possess her completely—body, mind and soul but the Instructor was different.
She didn't want to possess Maya. She wanted to watch her. To take her apart piece by piece and see what made her tick.
The Instructor's smile widened, just slightly as though she could sense Maya's thoughts.
Subject 0014 stood at the back of the group , his bald head gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
He watched Maya and for the first time in months he admit,
"Look at her. Just look at her. Standing there like she's made of iron."
He remembered the first time he had seen her. A tiny, trembling thing, barely tall enough to reach his waist. He had laughed at her. Mocked her. Called her "too small" and "a waste of space."
"I thought she wouldn't last a week. I thought she'd be dragged out of here like so many other.
I've been to Code Red four times. And this little one this tiny little one—is already ahead of me on her very first attempt."
His lips curved into a bitter, self-deprecating smile.
Subject 0011 stood a few feet away, his thin frame barely visible beneath the loose fabric
of his uniform.
"I had given up. I had stopped trying. I had accepted that I would never leave this place
that I would die here, forgotten and alone.
And then she sat beside me. She didn't try to fix me. She just... sat there. Like she understood. "
A smile touched his lips. He looked at Maya now, standing tall in the face of the Instructor's twisted admiration.
"That little one's got guts. Real guts. I've been here fifteen years and I've never seen anything like her."
The Instructor gestured toward the massive digital board behind her.
It flickered to life, casting a pale blue glow across the training hall. Glowing words materialized on its surface, each one sharp and unyielding:
[TEST — CODE RED, STAGE ECLIPSAR ]
The digital board flickered. A second interface appeared beneath the primary assessment parameters.
[ NIRVANA PROTOCOL — REVISION 7.4 ]
PRIMARY VARIABLES :
Physiological Endurance
Cognitive Stability
Recovery Capacity
FUNCTIONAL THRESHOLDS :
Cognitive Response ≥ Minimum
Motor Control ≥ Minimum
Compliance ≥ Required
Survival Status = Active
The Instructor's voice was smooth ... as though she was describing a pleasant afternoon activity rather than a trial that would determine life or death.
"A subject will be considered functional only while all critical parameters remain within acceptable limits.Temporary deterioration is permissible. Persistent deterioration is not."
She walked slowly along the front of the room, her heels clicking against the polished concrete.
"You will be placed in a simulated environment.
Previous iterations of Code Red operated under a different protocol.
Subjects who failed to meet the required performance threshold were returned to Code Orange for reassessment and corrective conditioning."
She tilted her head slightly.
"That methodology produced inconsistent results.
Repeated exposure allowed subjects to adapt to the expectation of failure. Once failure became predictable, its psychological value diminished."
She turned toward the digital board.
"Therefore, the protocol has been revised. Stage Eclipsar will operate under a terminal-failure model.
If a subject fails to satisfy the predetermined survival, endurance or compliance criteria, the trial will be classified as unsuccessful.
[ FAILURE STATE: EXECUTION
REASSESSMENT: PROHIBITED
SUBJECT STATUS: TERMINATED ]
The words landed like a blade.
Subject 0014's breath caught. His fists tightened at his sides.Subject 0002's sharp eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.
Subject 0004's face remained a mask of stone, but his hands, resting at his sides, curled into fists.
Subject 0011's trembling intensified. His face went pale, his eyes widening with barely concealed terror.
Then the instructor smiled faintly.
"Consider it an improvement in experimental efficiency."
Her amber eyes swept across the five subjects.
"After all, there is very little predictive value in repeatedly testing a subject who has already demonstrated a persistent failure to meet the required parameters."
She reached out, her fingers brushing against his chin, tilting his face up to meet her gaze.
"Don't you agree, Subject 0011?"
Subject 0011's breath came in shallow gasps.His face pale, his entire body trembling like a leaf in a storm.
"I... I..."
The Instructor's smile sharpened. "Cat got your tongue?"
"So...sorry instructor. "
She released his chin and turned away, her heels clicking against the floor, her lips curled into a smirk.
"One more thing, Don't let the word 'simulation' fool you. The pain you experience inside—the wounds, the fractures, the bleeding—will be reflected on your physical bodies."
Her amber eyes swept across the five children, lingering on each face with cold satisfaction.
Then—[CHIME]
The lights above them changed...The familiar fluorescent white disappeared, replaced by a dim amber glow.
The massive doors at the far end of the training hall locked simultaneously [CLUNK]
"Stage Eclipsar will begin in sixty seconds."
A countdown appeared on the digital board.
[01:00]
Subject 0014 stared at the numbers, "Sixty seconds?"
The Instructor smiled, "Preparation time."
A second display appeared.
[ENVIRONMENTAL CONDITIONS: CLASSIFIED]
[OBJECTIVE: ADAPT]
[SECONDARY OBJECTIVE: MAINTAIN FUNCTIONAL STATUS]
[FAILURE CONDITION: SYSTEM DETERMINED]
Subject 0004's gaze moved across the board.
"No information about the environment?"
"Correct."
"Duration?"
"Undisclosed."
His jaw tightened, "Exit conditions?"
The Instructor's smile returned, "You'll know."
Subject 0014 gave a humorless laugh, "So basically, you aren't telling us anything. Instructor."
"That is precisely the point."
She turned toward him."Information creates expectation. Expectation creates strategy. Strategy creates predictability."
Maya said nothing, she was staring at the board.
Not at the countdown, at the wording.
SYSTEM DETERMINED.
That phrase bothered her.
The countdown continued.[00:14]
Subject 0011 swallowed hard, His hands had begun trembling again.
The digital board changed.
[STAGE ECLIPSAR. INITIALIZATION]
[00:03]
Subject 0011 took one steadying breath.
[00:02]
Subject 0002 lowered her center of gravity.
[00:01]
[00:00. STAGE ECLIPSAR — ACTIVE]
The moment the countdown reached 00, a loud noise rang out. [BOOOOOOM]
The sound seemed to come from everywhere at once.The five subjects instinctively flinched.
Maya's vision blurred.
For a second, the walls appeared to tilt beneath her. She reached out, trying to steady herself but the floor seemed to move beneath her feet.
Subject 0011 stumbled."Wh—what...?"
His voice sounded distant, almost swallowed by the ringing in his ears.
Subject 0014 pressed a hand against the side of his head, his expression tightening,"Something's wrong..."
Subject 0002 tried to straighten herself.
She couldn't, the room kept turning.
Her eyes narrowed as she fought to focus on the Instructor standing at the center of the hall.Even the Instructor's figure seemed to split into several blurred silhouettes.
She forced herself to look toward the digital board. The letters swam before her eyes.
[STAGE ECLIPSAR — PHASE ONE INITIATED]
She saw Subject 0011 sway beside her, his face pale, his eyes rolling back. Subject 0014's broad frame staggered, his hand reaching out to brace himself against nothing.
Subject 0002's sharp eyes flickered, her body going rigid before collapsing like a marionette with its strings cut.
Subject 0004 fell, Just the heavy thud of his body hitting the concrete and then her world tilted.
The ceiling spun. She felt her body hit the floor, the cold concrete pressing against her cheek. The hum grew louder until it swallowed everything.
DARKNESS.
~~
Fahan leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with something that looked almost like admiration.
"Huh. Huh. You know what? I have to admit—" He gestured toward the projection.
"I've never seen anything like this. A simulation that actually manifests physical wounds on the body? That's... that's next-level technology. I mean, the engineering behind it alone—"
Fahis's head snapped toward him. His eyes were wide, his voice sharp with disbelief.
"Brother." He held up his hand, palm out.
"Did you just—Did you seriously just compliment the technology?"
Fahan blinked. "I mean... technically, it's impressive—"
"Impressive?!" Fahis's voice cracked.
"Our five-year-old sister just got knocked unconscious and thrown into some kind of nightmare simulation where she could die.
And you're sitting here talking about the 'engineering'?!"
"I'm just saying—"
"There is no 'just saying'!" Fahis threw his hands in the air. "This is not a tech demo! This is not some kind of exhibit! This is Maya's life!"
Nahi let out a long, weary sigh. She waved her hand dismissively, not even looking at Fahan.
"Forget about that crazy person. "
Fahan sputtered. "I'm not— I'm not crazy—"
Faha leaned forward,
"Alright, let me ask you something. What else is left? What else could they possibly do to her?"
He gestured toward the screen, his hand trembling slightly.
"Look at her. She's been starved. Beaten. Locked in cages. Thrown into arenas with dogs. What else is there?
What's next—are they going to set her on fire? Drown her? Tear her apart piece by piece?"
His voice cracked slightly.
"Because at this point, I wouldn't be surprised. Nothing surprises me anymore. Nothing."
"One year and eight months. "
Farhan pressed his hand against his forehead, his voice cracking.
"How many times did they beat her? How many times did they starve her?
How many times did they throw her into some arena or some simulation and watch her fight
for her life?"
Fahad's voice cut through the silence, carrying the weight of guilt that had been pressing on him since the first memory began.
"I don't want to watch this anymore. I really... I really don't."
He pressed his palms against his eyes, his shoulders trembling.
"But what choice do we have?
We forced her into this. We pushed and pushed and pushed until she had no choice but to relive every single moment of her nightmare.
All because we couldn't stand not knowing. All because we wanted answers. All because we thought we deserved to understand."
He let out a bitter, broken laugh. "Look at us now. Look at what we've done. "
Farhan lowered his head. "We didn't know. We couldn't have known—"
"That doesn't matter!" Mahim's voice rose sharply.
"It doesn't matter that we didn't know! We still forced her! We still took away whatever peace she had managed to find!"
Rahi's voice cut through the heavy, guilt-laden silence like a blade—dripping with sarcasm.
"Wow. Wow, wow, wow. Look at all of you. So much guilt. So much 'Oh, we shouldn't have done this, we're terrible people.'"
He tilted his head, his lips curling into a bitter smirk.
"Regret already? That was really fast. I mean, you've barely scratched the surface and you're already falling apart."
~~
Maya's eyes fluttered open. The world swam into focus slowly—blurred shapes, muted colors, the distant sound of wind rustling through leaves.
She blinked and blinked again.
Then she sat up abruptly, her heart pounding.
Her eyes widened, adjusting to the sight before her. The world around her was vast—so vast it seemed to swallow the sky itself.
Towering trees stretched toward the heavens, their branches interlaced like fingers forming a green canopy that filtered sunlight into golden streams.
"Whoa..." The word escaped her lips before she could stop it—soft, awestruck, utterly childlike.
She slowly got to her feet, her bare toes curling into the soft earth beneath her. It was damp and cool, covered in a layer of fallen leaves that crunched softly as she shifted her weight.
She turned in a slow circle, her dark eyes wide as she took in the towering trees.
She remembered the Instructor's words, spoken in that cold, clinical voice during one of the earlier training sessions:
"Many trees together form a forest. The scientific term is 'Dense Woodland Formation'."
Maya let out a soft, amused huff.
"Dense Woodland Formation. I've read about it. I've studied maps and diagrams. But this.....This is different."
A flicker of movement caught her eye.
Something small, delicate, and impossibly colorful fluttered past her face. A butterfly.
"It's so beautiful..."
The butterfly landed on a nearby leaf, its wings opening and closing slowly, as if inviting her to come closer.
Maya took a hesitant step forward. Then another.
She crouched down, bringing her face closer to the delicate creature. Her voice was barely a whisper, soft and reverent—a child's wonder breaking through years of conditioning.
"Hello, Nymphalidae. You're so... you're so pretty."
The butterfly's wings fluttered gently as if acknowledging her.
She watched it for another long moment, her dark eyes glowing with little warmth.
"The woman with the dolls never let me out. She kept me locked away. And the facility... Don't even get me started on the facility. Grey walls. Grey floors. Grey everything."
Maya watched it go, her heart lighter than it had been in years.
~~
Mahi's eyes glistened with tears as she watched her daughter, her traumatized daughter—stand in awe of something as simple as a butterfly.
"Look at her. She's so curious."
Fahad shook his head slowly, his voice thick with emotion. "She's five years old and she's never seen a forest before.
She's never seen a butterfly in the wild. She's been locked in cages and rooms and grey corridors her entire life.
And now she's standing in the middle of a forest like it's the most magical thing she's ever seen."
Naya wiped her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Because it is. To her, it is. She's been deprived of everything—every simple, beautiful thing that children take for granted. And now she's finally getting a glimpse of it."
Mahim spoke slowly, his voice heavy with emotion. His eyes never left the projection,
fixed on Maya's small figure.
"I don't know... I don't know how many years it's been since I last saw wonder. Since I last saw her look at something and not brace herself for pain."
~~