[ III. POWER EXISTS ONLY BY PERMISSION. WITHOUT PERMISSION, YOU POSSESS NONE. ]
"Many believe that power is something you take. They are wrong. Power is something you are given. By the system. By those above you.
By those who decide whether you live or die."
She paused.
"Without permission, you possess nothing. Not your life. Not even your own thoughts. Everything you have—everything you are—is a gift. And gifts can be taken away."
She looked at them. "Remember this. It will keep you alive."
[ IV. EMOTION IS A FLAW. ERADICATE ITS ROOT. ]
"Emotion clouds judgment. It creates hesitation. It creates attachment. It creates suffering.
Love is a weakness, fear is a liability. Grief is a distraction, compassion is a vulnerability."
She paused.
"Every feeling you have—is a chain that binds you. If you wish to be free, you must cut those chains. Eradicate the root of emotion."
The board glowed with the four laws, their letters sharp and unyielding.
"These are the foundations of IRVANA. They are not suggestions. They are the truth upon which everything else is built."
She paused.
"Question them, and you will suffer. Embrace them and you will survive. Your training in Code Blue will teach you to live these laws. "
~~
Mahi's voice, when it finally came, was barely above a whisper:
"Seventeen subjects... out of tens of thousands. My daughter is one of the seventeen. She is one of the rarest survivors in the history of that hell.
And she earned that title by enduring things that would have broken anyone else. She didn't just survive—she became something.
Ghosts of Hell. They gave her that name like it was an honor. Like it was something to be proud of."
She pressed her hand against her chest,
"She doesn't even know she's a victim. She thinks she's just surviving. She thinks that's
all she deserves."
Fahim stood near the console, his fingers trembling as he adjusted his glasses.
"The Nirvana Program is a masterpiece of psychological conditioning.
Every stage is designed to break down the subject's sense of self, to strip away every layer of identity until nothing remains but the survival instinct."
He looked down at his hands.
"From a scientific perspective, she is a miracle. An anomaly that defies every statistical model.
And the worst part? She doesn't even know how broken she is. She thinks this is normal. "
Fahish looked up, his eyes red-rimmed.
"I've seen horror movies that made me look away. But watching my sister stand there, accepting that symbol as her identity...
That was more terrifying than anything I've ever seen."
Farhan was sitting on the floor,
"I keep thinking about the girl behind the wall. Subject 0016 A. The one who told Maya to survive. The one who kept her sane."
~~
The Instructor's voice cut through the sterile air of the classroom like a blade forged in ice.
"Today, you will learn to apply the first rule of IRVANA."
She turned, her white coat billowing behind her like the wings of a carrion bird. Her amber eyes swept across the five of them—
"You have to memorized the laws. You have to recited them but memorization is not understanding. Recitation is not application."
She gestured toward the door. "Come with me."
The five of them rose in unison. They had learned that hesitation was a luxury they could not afford.
Subject 0011's hands were trembling but he followed. Subject 0014's jaw was tight, his broad shoulders tense.
Subject 0002's sharp eyes were narrowed, scanning every corner of the corridor as they walked.
Subject 0004 moved like a shadow, his footsteps silent, his expression unreadable.
And Maya—Maya walked at the front, her dark eyes fixed on the Instructor's back, her mind churning with questions she didn't dare voice.
The corridor stretched endlessly before them. The walls were smooth, polished, their surfaces reflecting the soft ambient light like mirrors.
They passed through several security checkpoints.
Each one required the Instructor's biometric confirmation—a palm print, a retinal scan, a voice command.
Subject 0011's voice was barely a whisper: "Where are we going?"
"To the application chamber," the Instructor replied without turning.
"And what happens there?"
"You will see."
The final door was massive—a slab of reinforced steel that seemed to absorb the light around it. The Instructor pressed her palm against its surface.
A soft hum. A series of clicks. Then—the door slid open with a low mechanical groan [CLICK]
The room beyond was unlike anything they had ever seen.
It was circular, its walls lined with observation windows that looked down into the chamber below.
But it wasn't the architecture that made Maya's blood run cold. It was the people.
Six figures knelt in the center of the chamber. They were bound—their wrists secured behind their backs, their ankles shackled to the floor.
Their heads were bowed, their faces hidden in shadow. They were wearing the uniforms of the lower levels subjects.
Subject 0011's breath caught in his throat. His face went pale, his glasses slipping down his nose.
Subject 0014's jaw tightened so hard that the muscles in his neck stood out.
Subject 0002's sharp eyes narrowed, her hand instinctively moving toward her hip—where her sword would have been if she had been allowed to bring it.
Subject 0004 remained motionless, but his eyes—his cold, unreadable eyes—had fixed on the scene below with an intensity that bordered on predatory.
And Maya— Maya stared at the bound figures, her dark eyes wide, her heart pounding in her chest.
The Instructor descended the stairs that led into the chamber. Her footsteps echoed against the obsidian floor, each one measured, deliberate.
The five of them followed. They had no choice.
The Instructor stopped before the first bound figure.
It was a man— middle-aged, his face lined with exhaustion and fear. His wrists were raw, the skin rubbed red by the restraints.
The Instructor looked down at him,
"This subject has committed a violation of the first rule of Nirvana. He trusted someone. A fellow subject.
He believed that together, they could escape. That they could find a way out of this place."
She shook her head slowly.
"He was wrong. His companion betrayed him. Reported him and now...he must face the consequence."
The man's eyes widened. His lips parted, a desperate plea forming on his tongue but the Instructor didn't give him time to speak.
She moved.
Her hand shot forward, her fingers closing around the man's throat. She lifted him—effortlessly as if he weighed nothing and slammed him against the wall.
A sickening crack echoed through the chamber.
The man's body went limp. His eyes— still open, still fixed on the Instructor's face— slowly lost their focus.
The Instructor held him there for a moment longer. Then she released him. His body crumpled to the floor like a broken doll.
Silence descended upon the chamber.
Maya's world narrowed to a single point.
The man's body lying motionless on the obsidian floor. His eyes— still open, still staring at nothing. The dark pool of blood spreading beneath his head.
She stumbled backward. Her foot caught on the edge of a step and she nearly fell. She caught herself at the last moment, her hand pressing against the cold wall.
Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. Her heart was pounding so loudly she could barely hear anything else.
Subject 0011's voice was a distant echo: "0017 B—"
But she couldn't respond. She couldn't move. She couldn't look away from the body on the floor.
The Instructor turned to face them.
Her expression was calm, almost pleasant, as if she had just completed a routine task.
"The first rule of IRVANA is simple, This subject trusted. He believed that he could escape.
He was wrong. Trust is a vulnerability. It creates expectations. It creates disappointment. It creates betrayal."
She walked toward them, her footsteps echoing against the obsidian floor.
"In NIRVANA, there is no trust. There is only obedience. Obedience to the system. Obedience to those above you. Obedience to the laws that keep you alive."
She stopped before Maya.
"Do you understand, Subject 17 B?"
Maya's throat was dry. Her voice, when she finally found it, was barely a whisper: "...Yes, Instructor."
The Instructor studied her for a long moment. Then she smiled—a satisfied smile. "Good.
I am giving you a command."
She gestured toward the five remaining bound figures, the ones who had not yet been silenced.
Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with the kind of terror that comes when hope has already been extinguished.
Their bodies trembled, their wrists raw from the restraints that had been cutting into their flesh for hours.
"Each of you will kill one of the traitors. Obey. Without hesitation. Without emotion."
Maya's blood turned to ice.
The words hit her like a physical blow. Her heart stopped. Her lungs forgot how to breathe. She couldn't be serious, she couldn't be.
But the Instructor's expression remained unchanged. She was deadly serious.
Maya's eyes darted toward the others—
Searching for any sign of resistance, any flicker of rebellion, any indication that they felt the same horror that was consuming her from the inside.
But what she saw made her stomach drop into an abyss of cold, suffocating dread.
Subject 0014's face was split into a eager grin. His broad shoulders were squared, his chest puffed out like a soldier receiving a medal of honor.
His eyes gleamed with something that looked almost like hunger. His hands were already gripping his battle axe, his knuckles white with anticipation.
His muscles were coiled, ready to spring into action at the first command. He looked like a
he was enjoying it.
Subject 0002's sharp eyes were gleaming with cold anticipation. Her lips were curved into a smile, not warm but hungry.
The smile of someone who had been waiting for this moment for a very long time.Her hand was already resting on the hilt of her samurai sword.
Subject 0004's expression remained unreadable. His face was a mask of stone, betraying nothing. But his hand had already moved toward the weapon at his hip.
Subject 0011's hands were trembling. His chest was rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths.
But it wasn't fear that was making him shake.
It was excitement.
His eyes were wide, his pupils dilated. His lips were parted, a eager smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
His bow was already in his hands, an arrow nocked and ready.
He looked like a child on birthday morning, unwrapping a gift he had been waiting for his entire life.
Maya looked at Subject 0011—the boy who had once told her he was afraid of everything. The boy who had confessed that he prayed for a quick death.
He was smiling.
She looked at Subject 0002—the girl who had spent years surviving alone. The girl who had warned her that trust would get her killed.
Her smile was cold, hungry.
Maya's mind reeled.
What is wrong with them? Why are they smiling?
Don't they understand what they're about to do?
They're going to kill people, real people. People who are begging for their lives.
People who are crying. People who are just like them.
Why are they happy ... Why are they excited?
Why do they look like they've been given a gift?
Subject 0014 stepped forward, his battle axe gleaming in the dim light of the chamber.
"Finally, I've been waiting for this. I've been waiting for a chance to prove myself. To show them what I can do."
His grin widened, revealing teeth that looked almost animalistic in the harsh light.
"This is what I was made for. This is what I am."
Subject 0002 followed, her samurai sword already drawn. The blade caught the light, gleaming with a cold, deadly radiance.
"This is what we were made for, A weapons and weapons do not hesitate."
Subject 0011's voice was trembling—but it wasn't fear. It was anticipation, his muscles coiling with barely contained energy.
Maya looked at Subject 0011—the boy who had once told her he wanted to die.His face was alive with something she had never seen before.
EXCITEMENT.
Oh no, she thought, her mind reeling. Oh no, no, no.This place has turned them into something else. Into monsters.
Subject 0014 reached the first bound figure—a young woman, her face streaked with tears, her body trembling with terror.
"Please—" she begged, her voice cracking. "Please, I have a family—I have children—I have—"
Subject 0014 didn't hesitate. There was no flicker of doubt in his eyes. No glimmer of mercy.
He swung his axe.The blade arced through the air, gleaming in the dim light. The woman's plea was cut short. Her body crumpled to the floor.
Silence descended upon the chamber.
Subject 0002 reached the second figure—a man, his eyes wide with the kind of terror that comes when hope has already been extinguished.
"I'll do anything— Anything, I'll obey—I'll do whatever you say—just please—"
Subject 0002's smile widened. It was a cold, predatory smile— "Too late."
Her sword flashed.The man's body crumpled to the floor.
Subject 0011 reached the third figure—a young boy, no older than twelve, his body shaking with sobs.
"Please, I don't want to die. I'm just a kid—I'm just like you—"
Subject 0011's hands were trembling.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I don't want to—but I have to—"
His fingers tightened on the bowstring. "I have to obey."
He released the arrow.
Subject 0004 reached the fourth figure—a woman, her eyes closed, her lips moving in a silent prayer.
Subject 0004's expression remained unreadable.
He raised his weapon and pulled the trigger.
The Instructor's voice cut through the silence:
"Subject 17B. Your turn."
Maya's heart stopped.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her entire body went rigid. The world around her seemed to narrow to a single point—
At the final bound figure. A young boy—no older than fourteen . His face was pale, his wrists were raw, the skin rubbed red by the restraints that had been cutting into his flesh for hours.
His small body was trembling so violently that his chains rattled against the obsidian floor.
"Please don't hurt me. I'll be good. I'll be so good. Just please don't—"
His voice broke into sobs.
Maya's hand tightened around her blade. The cold metal pressed against her palm, sharp and unforgiving.
She looked at the Instructor. The Instructor was watching her.
Maya looked at the boy. He was so young. So small. She moved and reached the boy. He looked up at her, his eyes wide with terror.
Her blade flashed in the dim light, arcing through the air like a silver tear. It descended—
The boy's eyes were squeezed shut. His lips parted. A sound escaped his throat—a sound that was half-sob, half-scream.
He was waiting for the end. Waiting for the blade to fall. He had accepted it.
But The blade didn't cut. The boy's eyes flew open. He stared at the blade—so close, so deadly, so impossibly still.
Then his gaze traveled upward, following the length of the weapon to the hand that held it.
To the face of the girl who was supposed to end his life. Maya's hand was frozen in midair.
Her blade was raised high above her head, its edge gleaming in the cold, clinical light of the chamber.
It hovered over his exposed throat, so close that he could feel its sharp edge brushing against his skin.
Maya's hand trembled harder.
The boy's eyes were fixed on her. His lips were moving—forming words she couldn't hear.
I can't do this. I can't kill a child. I can't become like them. I can't—
Her fingers were frozen around the hilt. Her muscles were locked, refusing to complete the motion.
Move. Move! Just move! Do it! Obey!
But her body wouldn't listen.
The Instructor's voice cut through the silence,
"Subject 17B. I gave you a command."
"I... I can't do this." Maya's arm dropped to her side. The blade clattered against the obsidian floor. She took a step back. Then another.
The silence that followed was absolute.
The Instructor walked toward Maya, her footsteps, each step echoed against the obsidian floor like a drumbeat of doom.
"Subject 17B, do you understand what you have just done?"
Maya couldn't meet her gaze. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, "I... I tried—"
"You tried? Obedience is not about trying. Obedience is about doing.
You have failed to obey the first rule of Nirvana. You are not worthy of survival."
The words hit Maya like a physical blow. Her legs gave way beneath her. She sank to her knees,
"Please, I'll do better—I promise—"
"Promises are meaningless. Subject 17B will be sent to the Correction Room : Level Three punishment."
Subject 0014's face had gone pale. His earlier grin had vanished, replaced by something that looked almost like fear.
Subject 0002's sharp eyes widened just slightly—a rare crack in her usual composure.
Even Subject 0004's expression shifted, just a fraction.
Maya didn't understand. She had been punished before. She had endured pain before.
But the looks on their faces —the fear, the horror—made her blood run cold.
The Instructor's voice continued:
"The Correction Room will serve as a reminder of the price of disobedience. You will remain there until you have learned the first rule of Nirvana."
She paused.
"Until you are ready to obey without hesitation. without emotion or until you die."
Two attendants stepped forward.
Their faces were expressionless, they reached down, their hands closing around Maya's arms, lifting her to her feet.
She didn't resist. The attendants began to drag her toward the door.
Subject 0011's voice was barely a whisper: "0017B—"
She looked back. His face was pale, his eyes wide with fear.
The door slid open. The attendants dragged her through the threshold.
The Instructor's voice echoed from behind her:
"When you return, you will obey without hesitation. "
[CLICK ] The door slid shut.