The dormitory was silent that night, save for the low hum of the ventilation system and the occasional creak of footsteps from patrolling guards.
Luna lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her bruises throbbing from the day's humiliation against Kai. Her muscles screamed for rest, but her mind would not still. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his cold smirk, the instructor's disgust, the shadow of her mother's face whispering—you are not enough.
Sleep never came.
At dawn, the recruits were summoned into the underground chamber known as the Black Room.
It was nothing like the training hall. The walls were padded, the lights dim, and the air smelled faintly of iron and fear. There were no weapons, no mats, no instructors shouting corrections. Only silence—and the unnerving presence of men and women in black coats, their eyes hidden behind tinted lenses.
The recruits lined up, confused, whispering nervously.
A voice crackled over the speakers. Deep, calm, merciless.
"Today, we test your mind."
Luna's heart lurched.
One by one, the recruits were dragged into separate chambers branching off from the Black Room. Screams echoed from behind the doors—some furious, some broken, some begging. Luna clenched her fists, sweat pooling in her palms.
When it was her turn, two guards gripped her arms and shoved her inside a small, windowless cell. The door slammed shut with a metallic thud.
The room was empty, except for a single chair bolted to the ground.
"Sit," the voice commanded.
She obeyed, her throat dry.
The walls lit up with projections. Flickering images flashed before her eyes—her mother's face twisted in disappointment, children laughing at her weakness, the shadow of her attackers from that cursed night. The voices came next: You're worthless. You're weak. You don't belong. You're broken. No one will ever save you.
The voices weren't real. She knew they weren't.
But they felt real.
She tried to cover her ears, but the sound only grew louder, vibrating in her skull. She tried to close her eyes, but the images burned brighter.
Her body trembled. Her breath hitched. A sob tore from her throat before she could stop it.
The voice from the speaker returned. Calm. Mocking. "Tell me, Luna. Do you still want to live?"
She gritted her teeth, tears streaking her face.
"Yes," she whispered.
The room went darker. The voices sharpened, crueler, like knives carving into her. Your mother never wanted you. You were born a mistake. Even your own shadow pities you. You should have died that night.
Her nails dug into her skin until blood surfaced.
"No… no, no, no—" she muttered, rocking in the chair.
"Then prove it," the voice demanded. "Prove you are more than your weakness. Prove you deserve life."
Something inside her snapped.
Her tears dried. Her shaking stopped. She slammed her fists against the arms of the chair, her breath ragged but steady.
"I… am not… broken!" she roared, her voice raw and shaking the silence.
The room went silent. The images vanished.
The door opened, flooding the chamber with white light.
Luna blinked, her body drenched in sweat, her throat burning. She stumbled forward, nearly collapsing. The guards caught her but did not offer comfort.
Back in the Black Room, she joined the others. Some recruits looked hollow, their eyes glassy with defeat. Others trembled, unable to meet anyone's gaze. A few had been dragged out unconscious.
And then there was Kai.
He stood tall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable—but his eyes flicked briefly toward Luna. For the first time, she thought she saw something almost like approval.
The speaker crackled again.
"Only those who survive the mind can master the body. Remember this day, recruits. Pain of the flesh is nothing. Pain of the spirit is everything."
---
That night, when Luna lay in her bed, exhausted, she realized something terrifying—and exhilarating.
The voices hadn't disappeared.
She could still hear them, faint whispers at the edge of her thoughts. But they no longer controlled her. Instead, they fueled her.
For the first time since she left home, she felt a fragile spark of power burning within.
And she swore, silently, that no one—no ghost of her past, no voice of her doubt, no shadow of her pain—would ever take it away again.