The Instructor's voice echoed through the vast training hall as she outlined the future that awaited them.
Then — the massive reinforced doors at the far end of the hall slid open with a deep, mechanical groan.
Four figures stepped inside.
They moved with an eerie synchrony, their crisp white lab coats billowing behind them like the wings of carrion birds.
Each one carried a sleek tablet, their faces carved from stone, cold, utterly unreadable.
Their footsteps echoed in perfect unison against the polished floor. The Instructor paused mid-sentence, her amber eyes shifting toward the newcomers.
"Ah. You've arrived."
She turned to face the five subjects, a knowing smile curling at the edges of her lips."These four scientists will be your new instructors.
Each of them specializes in a different discipline, combat, strategy, infiltration and psychological manipulation. They will be responsible for your advanced training."
She gestured toward the scientists, who stepped forward in unison. Their eyes moved across the five children like merchants merchandise.
"Now, I will allow each of them to choose which subject they will train."
Scientist 1 stepped forward first. He was a tall, gaunt man with sharp, angular features and cold, calculating eyes that seemed to pierce through flesh and bone.
His voice was low, rasping, like stones grinding together. "You."
He pointed at Subject 0014, his bony finger extended like a blade.
"Your physical strength is undeniable. Raw . I will shape you into a weapon of pure destruction —a force that cannot be stopped, cannot be defeated."
Subject 0014 grinned, cracking his knuckles with a sound like breaking twigs. "Finally. Someone who understands me."
Scientist 2 moved next.
She was a woman with short, silver hair cropped close to her skull, her face carved from ice. Her eyes were pale, almost colorless.
And they swept across the remaining subjects with surgical precision. Her voice was soft but it carried an edge that could cut glass.
"Subject 0002."
She didn't point. She simply looked at her.
"Your agility and precision are exceptional. You move like smoke—untouchable, unseen. I will teach you to become invisible. To strike without warning. To leave no trace.
You will learn the art of infiltration, assassination, and silent elimination."
Subject 0002's cold smile returned, sharp and predatory. "Good. I was beginning to think no one here had taste."
Scientist 3 stepped forward.
He was a stocky, broad-shouldered man with a thick, graying beard and eyes that missed nothing.
His presence was immovable—like a mountain that had learned to walk. His voice was deep, rumbling, carrying the weight of authority.
"Subject 0004."
He studied him with quiet intensity.
"Your strategic mind is your greatest weapon. You see patterns where others see chaos. You anticipate moves before they are made.
I will teach you to command, to lead armies, to win wars without firing a single shot. You will become a tactician who shapes the fate of nations."
Subject 0004 gave a single, silent nod. His eyes flickered with something that might have been respect.
Scientist 4 approached last.
He was a wiry, sharp-eyed man with thin glasses perched on his nose and a face that seemed to be perpetually studying . His voice was quick,
"Subject 0011."
He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with predatory interest.
"Your mind is sharp—but unfocused. Scattered. You have potential that has never been properly channeled. I will teach you to wield your mind like a blade.
Strategy. Logistics. Psychological warfare. You will learn to haunt the minds of your enemies before they even know you exist."
Subject 0011 swallowed hard, his fingers tightening at his sides."I... I'll do my best."
The four scientists stepped back, each standing beside their chosen subject like shadows that had found their hosts.
That left Maya.
She stood alone at the center of the hall, her posture straight but inside, her mind was racing.
No one had chosen her. The silence stretched, The four scientists had already turned away, their attention fixed on their new pupils.
She was invisible. Unwanted. Discarded.
The Instructor observed the scene with cold amusement. Then—she spoke.
"Well. It seems no one has chosen you, Subject 0017B."
Her voice was calm, almost pleasant but beneath it lay a sharp edge—a blade wrapped in silk.
Maya's expression didn't change. Her voice was steady. "It appears so, Instructor."
The Instructor stepped forward, her heels clicking against the polished floor with slow, deliberate precision.
She stopped directly in front of Maya, close enough that the faint scent of antiseptic clung to her coat.
"Tell me, How does it feel to be unwanted?"
"I'm used to it, Instructor."
"Good. Then you won't mind that I will be your instructor. After all—no one else is willing to."
The words landed like a blow.
Maya's hands curled into fists at her sides but her face remained still. She had learned long ago not to show weakness.
Subject 0014 let out a low whistle, his voice carrying across the hall. "Damn, 0017B. Looks like you got the short end of the stick."
Subject 0002 smirked, "Or the sharp end. Depends on how you look at it."
The Instructor's voice cut through the murmurs like a blade. "Enough."
The room fell silent instantly. She turned to face the four scientists, her expression cold and commanding.
"You may take your chosen subjects to begin their training. I will handle Subject 0017B myself."
The scientists nodded, each placing a hand on their subject's shoulder and guiding them toward the exits.
Subject 0011 glanced back at Maya, his eyes filled with concern. His voice was soft, almost lost. "0017B..."
"I'll be fine. Go."
He hesitated—his fingers twitching at his sides, his face pale—then turned and followed his instructor out of the hall.
One by one, they disappeared through the massive doors.
The heavy doors slid shut behind them with a low, final groan. Soon, only Maya and the Instructor remained.
The hall was vast and silent. The holographic displays had dimmed. The hum of machinery was the only sound.
The Instructor turned to face her fully, she began to circle Maya, her heels clicking against the polished floor like a countdown.
"You have been rejected, forgotten, discarded. The others chose their instructors—but no one chose you. Do you know why?"
Maya's jaw tightened. "Because I'm not special."
The Instructor's laugh was soft, almost gentle.
"No, Subject 0017B. You're wrong."
She stopped directly behind Maya, her voice dropping to a whisper."They didn't choose you because they were afraid."
"Afraid?"
The Instructor leaned closer, her lips brushing against Maya's ear.
"Afraid of what you might become. Afraid of the power you carry. Afraid that if they trained you—you would surpass them."
She pulled back, her voice returning to its normal, "You are not unwanted, Subject 0017B."
"I chose you because I am curious. I want to see what happens when someone like you. Someone with your potential—is pushed to the absolute limit."
She spread her arms wide, her voice echoing through the vast hall."So let's begin, Subject 0017B. Let's see what you're truly capable of."
Her voice echoed through the vast, empty training hall.
"Your training will last for Six Months, Subject 0017B. During that time, I will teach you everything. Combat. Strategy. Espionage.
Economics. Politics. Psychology. You will learn to read people, to manipulate situations, to become a ghost that moves through the world unseen."
She paused, her lips curving into a thin, knowing smile. "I will even teach you to dance."
Maya blinked, her brow furrowed slightly. "Dance, Instructor?"
"Grace is a weapon, Subject 0017B. A weapon that can disarm, distract, and destroy. You will learn to move with elegance and precision—whether in a ballroom or a battlefield."
"I understand, Instructor."
The Instructor turned and gestured toward the massive holographic display at the front of the room.
It flickered to life, revealing a detailed schedule—
[TIME ACTIVITY DESCRIPTION]
[ 04:00 - 04:30 ~ Wake-up & Hygiene Cold shower, uniform preparation, physical readiness
04:30 - 06:00 ~ Physical Conditioning Running, strength training, endurance building
06:00 - 06:30 ~ Breakfast Nutritious meal (with poison)
06:30 - 08:30 ~ Combat Training Hand-to-hand combat, weapons training, self-defense
08:30 - 10:30 ~ Strategy & Tactics Military strategy, geopolitics, identifying enemy weaknesses
10:30 - 12:30 ~ Espionage & Infiltration Spycraft, disguise, silent movement, intelligence gathering
12:30 - 13:00 ~ Lunch Nutritious meal (with poison)
13:00 - 15:00 ~ Psychological Manipulation Mind games, reading people, manipulation techniques
15:00 - 17:00 ~ Economics & Politics Global economy, power structures, how to dismantle nations
17:00 - 18:00 ~ Dance & Grace Training Movement, posture, captivating presence —
art as a weapon
18:00 - 19:00 ~ Evening Meal Nutritious meal (with poison)
19:00 - 21:00 ~ Simulation Drills Real-life scenario simulations, decision-making under pressure
21:00 - 22:00 ~ Debrief & Study Review of the day's lessons, reading, analysis ]
"I have already prepared your training routine. You will follow it without exception."
Maya's eyes moved across the display. Her gaze traced the lines of text, the blocks of time, the relentless schedule that stretched before her.
[SPECIAL PROVISIONS]
[ Rest: 4 hours of rest every 15 days.
Punishment: Failure in any task — Correction Room (Level 1-3).
Reward: Success — extra food or 2 hours of leisure ]
Her eye twitched.
Eighteen Hours. Eighteen hours of training every single day. No breaks. No rest. No mercy.
Her jaw tightened. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. A flicker of irritation crossed her face—barely visible but unmistakable.
She turned to face the Instructor, her voice flat, laced with sarcasm. "Instructor... are you trying to kill me?"
The Instructor's smile widened. It was a cold, predatory smile—the smile of someone who enjoyed watching others squirm.
"Oh, no. Nothing like that. I simply believe in maximizing potential. And you, Subject 0017B—have a great deal of potential to maximize."
Her voice echoing through the hall. "So today, you will learn how nations are built—and how they can be broken."
She gestured toward the holographic display.
Which shifted to show images of ancient empires, modern governments and global power structures.
"Every nation is built on three pillars: Resources, Population, and Leadership. Control one, and you control the nation. Control all three.
And you control the world."
"Resources, Population, Leadership?"
The Instructor nodded.
"Resources provide the means. Population provides the manpower. Leadership provides the direction.
When all three align, a nation rises—united, powerful, unstoppable. But when one pillar crumbles, the entire structure collapses.
A nation starved of resources becomes desperate.
A nation divided by its population becomes chaotic. A nation without leadership becomes directionless. And a directionless nation is a nation waiting to fall."
She turned to face Maya fully, her voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper.
"You, Subject 0017B, will learn to identify the cracks in those pillars. You will learn to widen them. To exploit them.
To bring a nation to its knees—using nothing but strategy and manipulation."
She gestured toward the holographic display, which shifted again to show a map of the world
—sprawling, complex, interconnected.
"We begin with the fundamentals of geopolitics. You will learn about the world's major powers. Their strengths. Their weaknesses."
Maya's voice was quiet, steady. "And what do you want me to do with that knowledge?"
The Instructor's smile widened—cold, satisfied, triumphant. "You will learn to dismantle them."
[A FEW MOMENTS LATER]
The Instructor had finished explaining the entire structure of Maya's training—every brutal hour, every punishing milestone.
She folded her arms behind her back and looked down at the small girl standing before her. "Do you understand, Subject 0017B?"
Maya nodded once, "Yes, Instructor."
The Instructor's lips curved into a smile. "Good. Then your Dance and Grace Training will start immediately."
Maya blinked. Her face remained still but something flickered in her dark eyes—
A faint, almost imperceptible twitch of irritation. Her voice laced with barely concealed
annoyance.
"Instructor... is this really necessary? I don't think dancing will help me survive."
The Instructor stopped walking. She turned slowly, "Oh? You don't think so?"
Maya stood her ground. " I don't think a waltz is going to save me from a bullet."
"Subject 0017B. If you refuse to take the lesson...you will be punished."
Maya's face remained still, but her mind was racing. She had seen the Correction Room.
She had felt its horrors. She had no intention of returning. Her expression shifted instantly—a wide, cheerful smile spreading across her face like magic.
"Hehe! You know what, Instructor? I was just kidding!"
She clasped her hands together, her voice bright and enthusiastic—almost disturbingly so.
"I absolutely LOVE dancing! I've always dreamed of learning to dance! This is the best day of my life!"
The Instructor raised an eyebrow, a faint flicker of amusement crossed her cold eyes. "Is that so?"
"Oh, absolutely! I've been waiting my whole life for this moment! FIVE years of waiting and finally—FINALLY—I get to learn how to dance!"
She struck a dramatic pose, one hand on her hip, the other raised gracefully in the air. "Teach me, Instructor! Teach me everything you know! I am ready! I am willing! I am—"
She paused, tilting her head. "—completely and utterly sincere!"
~~
Faha (falling off his chair, clutching his chest dramatically):
"WHAT—WHAT JUST HAPPENED?! Did you see that?! Did you ALL see that?!"
He scrambled back onto his seat, pointing wildly at the projection screen.
"One second she's like—" (he imitates Maya's deadpan voice) "'I don't want to dance, this is stupid.'"
He snapped his fingers.
"And the NEXT second she's like—" (he switches to a high-pitched, disturbingly cheerful voice)
"'HEHE! I LOVE DANCING! THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!'"
He clutched his head,
"I THINK I JUST WITNESSED A PERSONALITY GLITCH! She switched like a LIGHTBULB! Like she pressed a button in her brain!"
Fahan (slowly turning to face the others, his voice barely above a whisper):
"Did she just... did she just do a complete 180? That's not normal. That's not normal behavior. That's—that's—
That's SCARY! That's the kind of thing you see in horror movies right before the character does something UNSPEAKABLE!"
Fahim (adjusting his glasses, his face caught somewhere between horror and reluctant amusement):
"From a psychological standpoint... this is actually deeply concerning."
He paused, watching Maya strike another dramatic pose on the screen.
"She's clearly exhibiting signs of extreme emotional suppression. Her brain has learned to switch between survival modes instantly—
—and she's also surprisingly good at acting."
Rahi (leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed, a crooked, dangerous smile spreading across his face):
"SEE? That's exactly why I'm going to kill her slowly."
The room went dead silent. Every head turned to stare at him.
"What? I'm just being honest. She's too entertaining to let die quickly. I need to savor it."
He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming.
"She's a masterpiece. And masterpieces deserve to be appreciated."
Faha (whispering to Fahim, his voice barely audible): "Brother... I'm starting to understand why she wanted to kill him first."
~~
The Instructor studied her for a moment. "Very well, Subject 0017B. Let's begin."
She extended her hand toward Maya. Her pale fingers hovered in the air, waiting.
Maya stared at the hand. Her mind raced.
Oh no. Oh no, no, no. She wants me to hold her hand. This crazy woman wants me to hold her hand.
What if she twists my arm? What if she flips me over and throws me across the room?
Her eye twitched.
I've seen her break people. I've seen her smile while she did it. And now she wants me to hold her hand like we're friends?
She swallowed hard.
This is worse than the Correction Room.
The Instructor's voice cut through her thoughts, sharp and impatient. "Subject 0017B. I don't have all day."
Maya's face remained perfectly neutral. But inside, she was screaming.
Okay. Okay. Just hold her hand. Don't make it weird. Don't flinch. Don't run away.
Slowly, hesitantly as if approaching a venomous snake—she reached out. Her trembling fingers hovered over the Instructor's palm for just a fraction of a second.
Then she placed her hand in the Instructor's.
It was cold. Maya's heart pounded.
Please don't twist my arm. Please don't use this as an excuse to throw me across the room.
The Instructor's grip tightened—not painfully, but possessively. Like she was claiming something.
"Good, now follow my lead."
[A FEW MOMENTS LATER]
Maya sat on the cold tile floor of the training hall's bathroom, She was breathing heavily. Her face was pale. Her hands were trembling.
The dance lesson had lasted only a few minutes. But to Maya, it had felt like an eternity.
The Instructor stood over her, arms folded, her amber eyes gleaming with cold amusement.
"Subject 0017B. Have I tired you out already?"
Maya's eye twitched. She forced a smile—bright, cheerful, utterly fake.
"No, Instructor! Not at all! I just—I just needed a quick break! To catch my breath! And—and think about how much I'm LOVING this lesson!"
The Instructor raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Maya nodded vigorously — a little too vigorously.
"Oh, absolutely! This is the most fun I've ever had! I've never felt more alive! I'm just—I'm just overwhelmed with JOY!"
Inside, her mind was a storm of panic.
This is it. This is how I die. Not by monster. Not by the Correction Room. By DANCING.
She pressed her trembling hands against her knees, trying to steady them.
I'd rather fight another Chimera.
She glanced up at the Instructor, who was still watching her with that cold, knowing smile.
This woman is worse than any monster. Monsters just kill you.
Her stomach churned. But She makes you suffer FIRST. She makes you pretend to enjoy it.
The Instructor's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. "Are you ready to continue, Subject 0017B?"
Maya forced herself to her feet. Her legs were shaking. "Ready, Instructor! Lead the way!"