REN PLUTO
The words hung in the air like smoke.
"Mr. Dasa. Ravi. Your turn."
Ravi didn't move.
He stood there, frozen, his face the color of old paper. His hands hung at his sides, trembling.
Ren stood between Dr. Gray and Maven's bunk. The pry bar was a dead weight in his hand. His shoulder screamed. His head pounded. His paradox—hate and protection—was a live wire in his chest.
But Ravi.
Ravi was the one who'd held them together. The Handler. The one who'd organized the diversion. The one who'd fed Ren when he was shaking. The one who'd told Jules to walk when all Jules wanted to do was curl up and die.
Ravi was the heart of this unit.
And Gray was about to rip it out.
"Ravi." Gray's voice was honey. Warm. Patient. "Don't make me wait. You know how this works."
Ravi's eyes found Ren.
A look passed between them. Not friendship. Not trust. Something rawer.
You failed Jules. Don't fail me.
Ren's jaw tightened. His hand gripped the pry bar so hard the metal bit into his palm.
He took a step forward.
Gray's eyes flicked to him. That warm smile never wavered. But something behind it—something cold and ancient—noticed him.
"Ren." Her voice a gentle scold. "Don't be difficult. You've already had your turn. You were delicious. But you're not ready for seconds. Not yet."
Another step.
The drone in the hallway—Ren hadn't seen it, but he heard it now. A high-pitched whir. Sensors locking on.
One more step and he'd be on the ground. Non-lethal round. Minus fifty points. Erasure.
He stopped.
Ravi's face crumbled.
Not with fear. With understanding.
Ren couldn't save him. No one could save any of them.
This was the trap. This was always the trap.
Ravi straightened his shoulders. The Handler mask slid back into place. He walked toward Gray on legs that barely held him.
"I'll go." His voice cracked. Cleared. Steady now. "I'll go. Just... just don't—"
He looked back at the unit. At Jules's empty shell. At Zelie's terrified face. At Nyx's dead eyes. At Sayer's curled form. At Maven, hidden behind Ren.
"Don't let them fall apart." He whispered.
Then he turned and walked through the door.
Gray put a hand on his shoulder. That same maternal gesture.
"Such a good boy," she murmured.
The door hissed shut.
They were locked in again.
The silence was worse this time.
No shing of Nyx's knife. No sobbing. No pacing.
Just breathing. Seven people breathing. Seven people waiting to die.
Ren stood exactly where he was. In front of Maven's bunk. The pry bar in his hand. Staring at the door.
Counting seconds.
Sixty. One hundred twenty. Three hundred.
Ravi had been gone five minutes.
Then ten.
Then twenty.
Jules hadn't moved. Just sat on his bunk, facing the wall, perfectly still. A statue with a pulse.
Zelie had crawled under her blanket. Just a shape now. Shaking.
Sayer was in her corner. Still as death.
Nyx sat on her bunk, knife in hand, staring at nothing. Her lips moved sometimes. Counting. Praying. Ren didn't ask.
Maven hadn't spoken. She just sat behind Ren, her back against the wall, her knees pulled up. Every few minutes, he heard her whisper something. Sarah's notes. Chemical equations. A mantra.
Thirty minutes.
Forty.
Ren's shoulder was a solid wall of pain. His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat. The staples pulled at his skin.
He didn't sit. Didn't move.
He just watched the door.
And waited.
Fifty-three minutes.
The maglock hissed.
Ren's hand tightened on the pry bar.
The door opened.
Ravi stood there.
He wasn't crying. Wasn't shaking. Wasn't blank like Jules.
He was gray.
His skin had a pallor Ren had never seen on a living person. His eyes—those warm, earnest, Sunny Boy eyes—were hollow. Like someone had scooped out the insides and left the shell.
He walked in. Slow. Measured. Each step deliberate.
He didn't look at anyone.
Walked to his bunk. Sat down. Faced forward.
Silence.
Ravi's lips moved. A whisper. Just one word.
"Mom."
Then nothing.
Ren's blood went cold.
He'd seen Jules's emptiness. That was horrifying.
This was worse.
Ravi wasn't empty. He was full. Full of something that wasn't him anymore. Full of whatever Gray had poured into the spaces she'd carved out.
"Ravi." Ren's voice rough. "Ravi."
No response.
Just those hollow eyes staring at nothing.
Maven moved. Slipped past Ren. Crossed to Ravi's bunk. Knelt in front of him.
"Ravi." Soft. Gentle. "Can you hear me?"
Ravi's eyes slowly focused on her face.
"Maven." His voice was flat. Wrong. "You're next."
Maven flinched. Just a fraction.
But she didn't move. Didn't run.
"I know." She whispered. "I know."
She reached out. Took his hand.
Ravi looked at their joined hands. A flicker of something crossed his face. Confusion. Like he couldn't remember what hands were for.
"I... I tried." He whispered. "I held it. Love and resentment. I held it. But she... she showed me..."
He stopped. Swallowed.
"She showed me that the resentment was stronger. That I didn't really love them. That I just... needed them to need me. That I'm empty. That I've always been empty."
Maven's grip tightened. "That's not true."
"It is." Ravi's voice flat. "She proved it. The Chair doesn't lie. It just... shows you what's really there."
He pulled his hand away. Turned back to the wall.
Maven stayed there for a long moment. Then stood. Walked back to her bunk.
Sat down.
Looked at Ren.
"It's working." She whispered. "The paradox. It works. Ravi held it. That's why he's not a husk like Jules. But she... she found a way around it. She didn't break the paradox. She just... fed him a bigger truth. A stronger signal."
Ren's jaw tightened. "What truth?"
Maven's eyes were wet. "That sometimes the thing you think is love... is just need wearing a mask."
The room absorbed this. No one spoke.
Ren looked at his unit.
Jules: empty shell.
Ravi: hollowed-out ghost.
Zelie: hiding under blankets.
Sayer: catatonic.
Nyx: somewhere far away, sharpening a knife that would never be sharp enough.
And Maven. The mouse. The alchemist. The one Sarah's journal said not to trust.
She was the only one still fighting.
The door hissed again.
Gray stood there. That warm smile. That rested, fed look.
"Ms. Kim." She beckoned. "Time."
Maven stood.
Ren moved. Blocked her.
"Ren." Maven's voice quiet. "Don't."
"She'll do to you what she did to them."
"Probably." Maven stepped around him. "But if I don't go, she'll take you next. And you're the only one who can use the paradox. You're the only one with enough rage to trigger it."
She looked at him. Those huge dark eyes. Not scared now. Resolute.
"Sarah's notes. The locket. The reader. It's all on you now. Don't let them take it."
She walked to the door.
Gray's smile widened. "So brave. So fragile. This will be lovely."
Maven paused at the threshold. Looked back at Ren.
"The glue," she whispered. Just for him. "The nail polish trick. You remember?"
Ren frowned. "What?"
Maven's eyes held his. A message.
Make your own paradox. Use what you have.
Then she was gone.
The door hissed shut.
Ren stood there. Staring at the metal.
The glue. The nail polish.
She wasn't talking about carpentry.
She was talking about chemistry. About combining things that shouldn't go together. About making something new from mismatched parts.
His paradox: hate and protection.
But protection wasn't love. It was just... need. Responsibility. A chain around his neck.
Gray would see that. She'd feed it to him. She'd prove that what he called protection was just another form of control. Another mask for rage.
And then she'd hollow him out like the others.
Unless...
Unless he found something else. Something stronger. Something that wasn't just need dressed up as care.
He thought about Maven. The mouse. The girl he wasn't supposed to trust.
She'd saved his shoulder. Saved the door. Saved the paradox. Saved all of them, over and over.
He didn't love her. Didn't even like her most of the time.
But he needed her. Not the way Ravi needed to be needed. Something cleaner. Something like...
Respect.
She was the only one in this room who could keep up. The only one whose brain worked as fast as his fists. The only one who looked at the chaos and saw a system.
Was that love? No.
Was it enough?
The door opened.
Ren's heart stopped.
Maven stood there.
Not gray. Not hollow. Not empty.
Alive.
Shaking. Pale. But alive.
She walked in on legs that barely held her. Past Gray's satisfied smile. Past the others. Straight to Ren.
Stopped in front of him.
Looked up.
"I held it." Whispered. "Fear and curiosity. Terror and wonder. She showed me the Coudhayes—the whole molecular structure—and I was so afraid... but I also wanted to know. Both at once. The Chair couldn't process it."
She grabbed his arm. Tight.
"I saw it, Ren. Sarah's notes are real. The network is real. Sub Level Twelve is real. And there's a way in. A maintenance shaft. Behind the incinerator. Tomorrow night. We have to go tomorrow night."
Gray's voice from the doorway. "Ms. Kim. You're not done."
Maven flinched. Turned.
Gray was watching them. That warm smile. Those dead eyes.
"One more session, I think. Tomorrow. To consolidate the gains." She looked at Ren. "And then you, Mr. Pluto. The main course. Ready at last."
She glided away.
The door hissed shut.
Maven slumped against Ren. He caught her—good arm, bad shoulder screaming—and held her up.
"Tomorrow night." She breathed. "We have to go. All of us. Before she takes you."
Ren looked at his unit.
Jules: empty.
Ravi: hollow.
Zelie: broken.
Sayer: gone.
Nyx: barely holding.
And Maven. The only one still fighting.
"Get some sleep." His voice rough. "All of you. We move tomorrow."
He helped Maven to her bunk. She collapsed onto it. Eyes closing before she hit the mattress.
Ren stood in the center of the room.
Looked at the door.
Dr. Gray had just told him he was the main course.
She didn't know he'd already found the recipe.
Hate and protection.
Terror and wonder.
Curiosity and fear.
The paradox wasn't one thing. It was whatever they needed it to be.
Tomorrow night, they'd find Sub Level Twelve.
Tomorrow night, they'd find Sarah's ghost.
And then they'd show Dr. Gray what a paradox could really do.