Beep… Beep… Beep…
The red light pulsed softly at first, faint and harmless. Then it grew brighter—angrier—painting the white classroom in violent flashes of crimson.
My breath hitched.
The teacher didn't move. Neither did the students. They sat frozen as if the blinking light didn't exist, their eyes staring forward, unblinking, hollow.
"Ma'am?" I said cautiously. "What's happening?"
No answer.
The light blinked faster now. Beep… beep… beep-beep-beep!
The hum turned into a screech that clawed at my ears.
I stood up, chair scraping loudly across the floor. "What's going on?! Is this a drill?"
The teacher's head twitched—just a small, unnatural jerk—then she turned toward the class again, smiling faintly.
"Please remain seated."
But her voice sounded… wrong. Like it was playing from a speaker, not coming from her mouth.
The other students turned their heads toward me, all at once, in perfect sync.
My stomach dropped.
"What the hell…" I whispered.
Then the walls split open.
Metal panels slid aside with mechanical precision, revealing dark corridors where there had been none. Alarms screamed now, loud enough to rattle my bones.
The students began to rise from their seats—but their movements were stiff, mechanical, like puppets on invisible strings.
"Sit down!" the teacher said sharply. But her tone wasn't human anymore—it was a command.
The students didn't listen. They just stood there, all of them turning toward me.
That's when I saw it—tiny, blinking symbols at the base of their necks.
Numbers. Serial codes.
Subject 1.
Subject 2.
Subject 3…
And then I saw my own reflection in the window.
The same mark.
Subject 7.
The realization hit like a punch to the chest. My knees went weak. "No… no, this isn't real—"
The teacher's voice cut through the sirens. "Containment breach. All non-essential units—remain still."
Her eyes shifted color—pale blue to deep red.
Then, chaos erupted.
Metal doors slammed open at the back of the room. Men in armored suits poured in, weapons drawn, shouting orders I couldn't understand. Their footsteps thundered against the tiles as they moved to contain the students.
One of the guards grabbed me by the arm. "You—move!"
"Where are you taking me?" I shouted over the alarms.
He didn't answer. Just pulled me toward the hallway.
Then a gunshot rang out.
The guard's helmet shattered. He dropped instantly. Blood splattered across the white floor.
I froze.
Through the smoke and the flashing lights, I saw someone standing in the doorway—one of the students. His uniform torn, eyes glowing faint blue.
Subject 9.
He stepped forward, calm, unbothered by the chaos.
Guards turned their weapons toward him.
"Target identified!" one yelled. "Open fire!"
Gunfire exploded through the room.
But Subject 9 didn't fall. The bullets slowed mid-air, stopping inches from his skin before dropping harmlessly to the ground.
"What the hell…" I breathed.
Then he looked straight at me. Not the guards. Not the teacher.
At me.
"Run," he said.
And then everything exploded.
The wall shattered. Flames and smoke filled the corridor. The alarms turned into one endless scream.
I didn't think—I just ran.
Through the debris. Past the bodies. Past the place that used to be my classroom.
And for the first time since I woke up in this world…
I felt alive.