The scientist's voice echoed through the cold chamber, "Subject 17B. You have reached Level Three : Psychological Breaking."
He stepped toward her, his pale eyes fixed on her trembling form. Her body was covered in bruises, her skin marked with the evidence of Level Two's brutality. She could barely stand.
"You will be moved to the Correction Room. You will remain there for two days. During this time, you will be subjected to systematic stress. "
He paused, his lips curling into a cold smile.
"You will learn that your mind is not your own. That even your thoughts belong to the system."
Maya's voice was barely a whisper, cracked and broken. "Please... please, I'll obey. "
"Actions are what matter. And your actions have demonstrated a dangerous flaw."
The shackles fell away. Maya's arms dropped to her sides. Her legs nearly gave way beneath her.
The scientist's hand shot out, gripping her arm. His fingers dug into her bruised flesh, "Come with me."
He dragged her across the room. Her bare feet scraped against the cold floor, her legs barely able to support her weight. She stumbled after him.
The corridor stretched endlessly before them. Maya's eyes were half-closed, her body moving on autopilot. She couldn't feel her legs anymore.
Couldn't feel anything except the dull, throbbing ache that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her bones.
The scientist stopped before a door— its surface marked with the same symbol she had seen before. The Correction Room.
He pressed his hand against the door's surface. A soft hum. A series of clicks. The door slid open with a low mechanical groan.
Cold air rushed out.The scientist's grip tightened on her arm. He shoved her forward.
Maya stumbled across the threshold. Her legs gave way beneath her and she collapsed onto the cold floor. She barely felt the impact. Her body was beyond feeling.
She heard the scientist's voice from behind her, cold and distant: "Two days. Use them wisely."
The door slid shut behind her. [CLICK]
Maya lay on the cold floor. Her body was broken, her mind was fractured, her will was shattered. She couldn't move. Couldn't think.
Couldn't feel anything except the dull, throbbing ache that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her bones.
She lay there for what felt like hours. Maybe it was minutes.
Her eyes were half-closed, unfocused. The darkness pressed against her from all sides, heavy and suffocating.
She stared at the ceiling. It was cracked. Water stains, maybe. She didn't have the strength to turn her head.
Didn't have the strength to move at all and then—she felt it. A presence. Someone was watching her.
Her heart began to pound, a slow, heavy rhythm that seemed to echo through her entire body. She tried to move, tried to turn her head.
But she was too weak. Her muscles wouldn't respond. She tried to speak, "Who... who's there?"
No answer. But the presence remained. She could feel it, like a weight pressing against her from the shadows.
With agonizing slowness, she forced her head to turn. The movement sent a fresh wave of pain through her body.
A BOY. He was chained to the wall.
His wrists were secured above his head, his ankles shackled to the floor. He was slumped against the cold stone, his body limp, his head hanging low.
Blood. So much blood. It was streaming down his face, dripping from his forehead, pooling beneath him on the cold floor. His hair was matted with it, dark and sticky.
But his eyes—his eyes were open and they were fixed on her, his blood pooling beneath him.
She recognized him. It was the boy. The one she had refused to kill. The one she had spared. The one who was the reason she was here.
He was staring at her, his eyes wide and unblinking.
They were filled with something she couldn't quite name. Guilt? Shame? Pity? All of them.
His lips parted but no sound came out. His throat moved as if trying to speak but the words wouldn't come.
Maya stared back at him. They stayed like that for a long time.
Maya's eyes drifted to the collar around his neck. The digital display embedded along its smooth metallic surface glowed faintly.
[SUBJECT 0013 A]
She stared at the numbers. They blurred in her vision, swimming together. She didn't know why but she whispered his number. "0017 B."
The boy's eyes flickered. His head lifted slightly—a tiny movement, barely perceptible. His lips parted. "0013A."
~~
The moment the number left the boy's lips—0013 A—the entire room went still. Then, slowly, every head turned toward Rahi.
Naya was the first to speak, her voice trembling with dawning horror.
"This... this is the name she always uses for you. Whenever she talks with you ... whenever she says '13A'... that's you. You're the one.... "
Her words trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
Rahi let out a hollow, crooked smile. It was bitter, self-deprecating,
"Yeah... that unlucky bastard was me. I was the one chained to that wall. Covered in my own blood, barely able to hold my head up—
While a five-year-old girl lay broken on the floor beside me.
I tried to escape once. Stupid move. Thought I was smarter than the system. Thought I could outrun them."
He shook his head slowly.
"Look where that got me. Chained up like an animal, waiting to die."
Mahi's eyes glistened with fresh tears.
"You... you were that boy? The one Maya refused to kill? The one who was beaten and chained because of her mercy?"
Farhan rubbed his face with both hands—
"So when Maya called you 13A in the ballroom... when she looked at you like she'd seen a ghost... The one she thought was dead."
Nahi leaned forward, his voice unusually serious
"That's why you warned us. That's why you told us not to push her. Because you knew. You knew exactly what we were about to unearth."
Rahi looked at them,"Took you long enough to figure it out."
~~
Maya swallowed, "Why... why are you here?"
"Because I tried to escape."
"Escape?"
"I thought I could run but there's nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. They always find you."
He paused.
"And when they find you— they make sure you never try again. They dragged me here. They told me I would be used as an example. To teach the others what happens when you disobey."
He looked at Maya.
"And then they brought you here. They said you were the one who refused to kill me. They said you were being punished for your weakness."
A tear slipped down his cheek.
"This is my fault. Because of me, you're here. Because of me, you're suffering."
Maya shook her head weakly. "No. No, it's not your fault."
"It is." His voice cracked. "You were going to survive. You were going to get out of here and then I ruined it.
Because I was too weak to save myself. Because I made you hesitate."
Maya wanted to argue, wanted to tell him that he was wrong but she didn't have the strength.
"0017 B... are you still there?"
She forced her eyes open. "I'm here."
"I wanted to thank you."
"Thank me?"
"For trying to save me. Even though it didn't work—even though it cost you everything—you tried. No one has ever tried to save me before."
The words hung in the air of the Correction Room. Then, silence.
He stopped talking. His head drooped forward, his chin dropping toward his chest. The chains rattled faintly as his weight shifted and he went still.
Maya's heart lurched. She tried to move. Her body screamed in protest but she forced herself to turn her head. "...0013 A?"
No response.
Her heart began to pound. "0013 A... are you still there?"
Silence.
"Please... please answer me..."
A low groan. The boy's head lifted slightly—
A tiny movement, barely perceptible. His eyes fluttered open,"...0017 B?"
Maya let out a shaky breath.
Relief flooded through her, so intense that it brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them away, refusing to let them fall."You're alive. "
A weak, broken laugh escaped his lips.
"Barely but yes. I'm still here."
Maya tried to push herself up. "I thought you were dead."
"I thought I was dead too," he admitted. "I could feel myself slipping away, darkness was calling me."
"Subject 0013 A... I don't understand something."
"What?"
"The Instructor, she's so strict. She doesn't let anyone survive disobedience. She executes subjects who fail.
She makes examples of them.So how are you still alive? Why did she let you survive? Why didn't she just kill you and be done with it?"
The boy's eyes drifted to the ceiling, unfocused, lost in memories he had spent years trying to bury,
"Because they recruited me as a subject for a Special Experiment."
"Special Experiment?"
"The Holo of Fair doesn't just run the regular program. They have...other projects. Secret projects.
Experiments that go beyond the normal trials , beyond everything the regular subjects endure."
He paused, "I was supposed to be part of one of those projects. They said I had potential. That I was going to be part of something that would change everything."
"Potential for what?"
"I don't know. They just said I was different. That my brain worked differently from the others. "
He let out a hollow laugh. "I didn't want to be special. I just wanted to survive. "
Maya stared at him, "The Special Experiments, they don't just let anyone participate, do they?"
"No. They're selective. They only choose subjects who show... certain traits. Subjects who can survive things that would kill anyone else."
He paused, his eyes meeting hers.
"Like you, 0017 B. You're one of them too. I could tell the moment I saw you."
Maya stared at the boy, "What do you mean? How could you tell?"
But inside, her mind was racing. Her thoughts churned like a storm,
He knows. He knows something. But how? How could he possibly know?
The question echoed through her skull, bouncing off the walls of her fractured consciousness.
Dr. Veyron's experiments—they're secret. Only a handful of scientists know about them. So how—how does this boy know anything about them?
She forced her trembling body to still. She kept her face neutral, A perfect mask of confusion.
Is he guessing? Is he bluffing? Trying to see if I'll react or does he actually know? Did someone tell him? Did he see something he wasn't supposed to see?
"Because you're still alive. Because you looked at me,a complete stranger and you couldn't bring yourself to kill me.
Normal subjects don't do that. Normal subjects obey, they don't hesitate but you did. Because you're different. You can feel.
Because you feel things more deeply than the others, you still have something they lost."
Maya's hands were trembling. "I... I don't understand. What are you saying?"
She kept her face neutral.
I have to pretend. I have to act like I don't know what he's talking about. Like I'm just an ordinary subject. Like I'm nothing special.
But the boy's eyes—those dark, knowing eyes—didn't waver. He
"You know exactly what I'm saying, 0017 B. You're one of the Special Experiments. I'm saying that you're valuable just like me.
That's why they sent you here instead of executing you. That's why they're trying to
break you instead of just killing you."
His eyes met hers and she could see the weight of years of suffering in them.
"They're afraid of you. Afraid of what you might become if they don't control you. That's why they're doing this.
That's why they're trying to destroy every part of you that makes you who you are."
Maya turned her head slowly, her eyes finding 0013's face in the dim light.
"0013 A , If I'm so valuable, if they have Special Experiments planned for me.... then why am I here?
In the regular program with the regular subjects?
Why didn't they send me to Level Seven?"
Her heart pounded but she forced her expression to remain neutral—curious just a regular subject questioning a wild theory.
If I can make him doubt himself... if I can make him feel foolish for jumping to conclusions... he'll back down.
She watched him carefully, waiting for him to falter. Waiting for him to realize he was wrong.
But 0013 A didn't falter. He was silent for a moment. A harsh cough escaped his lips.
"Because... because they're not just doing one experiment on you, 0017 B ."
Maya's eyes widened. A genuine flicker of alarm shot through her, "What do you mean?"
"They're doing a double experiment.
They placed you in the general population on purpose. They want to see how your abilities develop naturally—under stress, in real-world conditions.
But while you're here, they're also running their deeper tests in secret. Extracting data from Level Seven. Analyzing your biology in real-time."
Maya's voice rose — desperate, cracking at the edges, "What else do you know?"
0013 A flinched. His chains rattled as he shifted back, startled by the sudden ferocity in her voice.
"The...regular program—Nirvana—it's not the main program. It's just the surface. A mask. A cover."
"I don't understand. What are you talking about?"
"Think about the laws of Nirvana. The four rules. The ones the Instructor drilled into your head."
"What about them?"
"Why are they called the Laws Of Irvana?"
Maya opened her mouth to answer and then stopped. The words died in her throat. She had never thought about it.
She had never questioned it. "I... I don't know. "
"That's the point. They don't want you to think about it.Because Nirvana isn't the main program. It's a shell. A cover for the real program."
"What's the real program?"
0013's voice dropped to barely a whisper.
"IRVANA."
"IRVANA?" she repeated, the word tasting strange on her tongue. "What's IRVANA?"
"The facility isn't just running one program. It's running two. The surface program Nirvana—is designed to produce regular subjects.
But beneath that hidden beneath layers of secrecy and lies is another program. Irvana.
The Irvana Program is designed to produce something else....More than human."
"More than human," she repeated.
"It means Subjects who can do things that normal people can't. Subjects who can see things that normal people can't.
Subjects who can survive things that would kill anyone else."
"Wait, wait If IRVANA is the real program... then what is Nirvana? What's the point of it?"
"Nirvana is the filter. The testing ground. The crucible that separates the ordinary from the extraordinary.
Most subjects never make it past Code Red. They die. They're discarded. They become statistics.
But the ones who survive—the ones who reach Code Blue, they're different. They're special. "
"And the Special Experiments? The ones you talked about?"
"The Special Experiments are the final stage of the Irvana Program. Once a subject has proven themselves in Nirvana—
Once they've demonstrated that they have what it takes—they're selected for the next phase."
"PHASE?"
"The Irvana Phase. The one that's hidden beneath layers of secrecy and lies.
That's why the laws are called the laws of Irvana. Because Nirvana is a lie. A beautiful, carefully constructed lie designed to hide the truth."
Maya's mind was spinning. She thought about the Instructor's words. The four laws that had been drilled into her head.
She had believed them.
She had let them become part of her and all along, they had been a lie. "IRVANA, What's the difference?"
"The difference is in the Code. In Nirvana, there are four codes. Each one represents a stage of the program."
Maya nodded slowly. "I know. I've lived them."
"But in IRVANA, there's a Fifth Code. A code that's only given to the subjects who are selected for the Special Experiments.
VIOLET."
"Violet, I've never seen a violet collar."
"Because they're rare. Extremely rare. Only a handful of subjects in the entire history of the facility have ever been given a violet collar."
Maya's mind fractured—
She was back in that endless corridor. The fluorescent lights humming overhead. The polished floor cold beneath her bare feet.
The two women in gray uniforms flanking her like silent wardens. Rows upon rows of identical steel doors, each one bearing a small circular indicator glowing with color.
She remembered looking up at door 0017 for the first time. A almost imperceptible glow that had caught her eye. A tiny circle of light, pulsing softly above the number.
VIOLET.
She had blinked, and it was gone. She had convinced herself it was a trick of the light. A hallucination born of fear and exhaustion.
"I remember, The first day I arrived. I was assigned to Room Seventeen and I saw... I saw a violet light. Just for a moment. I thought I imagined it."
Her hands, still pressed against the cold floor, began to shake.
"But it was real. It was always real. That light... it was marking me. Tagging me from the very first moment I stepped into this place."
"That's why they gave you that room, 0017 B."
They knew you had potential. "
"But ... why not just take me directly? Why put me through the Nirvana Program if they already knew?"
"Because they need to test you. They need to see if you can survive. They need to see if you can endure."
Silence. Maya let the breath out slowly, watching it mist in the cold air of the Correction Room.
"All this time...All this time, I thought I was just surviving. Just trying to make it through one more day. One more beating."
She let out a broken, bitter laugh.
"But I was never surviving. I was performing. I was a specimen under a microscope."
She slowly lifted her hands. They trembled violently — she stared at her hands.
There was no skin left untouched. No patch of flesh that had escaped the brutality of this place.
The knuckles were raw, bleeding, the skin peeled back to reveal the pink, tender tissue beneath.
Some of the wounds were fresh, still seeping thin trails of blood that traced down her wrists and dripped onto the cold floor below.
Others were older, scabbed over, the dark crusts cracking with every tiny movement. Her nails were broken, red beds that throbbed with every heartbeat.
"0013 A, what happens in the IRVANA Program? What do they do to the subjects who are selected?"
"I don't know exactly. No one knows. The Irvana Program is the most secret part of the facility.
Even the scientists don't know everything about it but I know one thing. I know that the subjects who enter the Irvana Program don't come back the same."
"Something more than human?"
"Yes. Something more than human."