Darin sat on the floor with her back against the wall, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped loosely around them. Not tightly, she didn't have the energy for that anymore. The room was quiet in the way places got when nothing was allowed to happen.
Same bland, lifeless white walls, white ceiling. One recessed light that never dimmed and never brightened. A bed she hadn't slept in properly since she'd arrived. A table bolted to the floor. Cameras she refused to look at.
She whispered without realizing she was doing it.
"…Kangwoo…"
The name left her mouth thin and dry, like it had been scraped on the way out.
She tried again. Softer this time.
"Brother…"
Her thoughts ran in circles she couldn't stop. Memories of Kangwoo surfaced uninvited... Then other memories slid in, ones that didn't quite fit. Names she'd used before. Screens she'd stared at. Friends she'd left behind.
She pressed her forehead lightly against her knees and breathed through it.
The room showed no trace of a previous occupant. She'd catalogued it all already. The screws on the table legs. The seam in the wall panel behind the bed. The faint hum inside the ceiling that never changed pitch.
She knew where the blind spots should have been.
There weren't any.
Sugar had noticed her staring once.
"She looks lifeless," Sugar had said mildly, standing just inside the doorway. Not to Darin, to someone else, just out of view. "That's normal. Dissociation is efficient."
Darin hadn't reacted. She'd learned that reacting would only give them data.
Footsteps came and went. Meals arrived and were removed untouched. Sometimes Sugar talked. Sometimes she didn't. Sometimes she asked questions that weren't questions at all.
Darin didn't make any move.
Eventually, the door opened again.
Sugar entered, tablet tucked under her arm, heels clicking softly against the floor. She glanced at Darin on the ground and paused, considering her like a paused video.
"You've been very quiet today," Sugar said.
Darin stayed put.
Sugar smiled faintly. "Still stuck on him?"
Darin's fingers twitched.
Sugar stepped closer, crouched just enough to look at her face. "That attachment is going to hurt you," she said gently. "But you already know that."
She stood again. "Rest. I'll be back."
The door closed, the lock slid into place.
And the silence returned.
Minutes passed, or hours, even weeks. Darin couldn't tell anymore.
Darin lifted her head–
Sugar's tablet laid on the bed.
Her breath caught.
That wasn't right, Sugar never forgot the tablet. Not even once.
Darin stayed where she was. Her heart began to pound slowly and heavily. This was another test. It had to be. She'd learned that the room itself could lie.
She stood up, and stared at the dark screen.
Seconds passed.
The tablet lit up.
A single word in white, stark and centered.
ZERO
Darin's blood went cold.
Her eyes burned, locked on the screen like she knew what would happen next.
The speakers crackled softly.
Then a voice emerged.
Artificially filtered, distorted just enough to hide everything human underneath.
"Darin."
Her breath broke.
She pressed her palm against her mouth, eyes wide, heart slamming so hard it hurt.
The voice continued, unbothered.
"I know you're being monitored."
Darin tilted her head down slowly, "...Who are you," she said hoarsely. "Are you with them?"
"No, Darin." ZERO said. "No, you brought me with you."
Darin stared at the screen.
She froze in place, as if she'd been caught inside the moment.
"You know they can hear us from the surveillance cameras, right?" she said.
"Seems like you've already mapped the room." ZERO replied. "They always do,"
The screen flickered once.
"As a matter of fact," the voice continued, "they're letting this happen. They're watching the version of you that survives."
Darin squeezed her eyes shut.
She chuckled once, then pressed her forehead against the wall.
"…What do you want?" she asked.
The tablet screen dimmed slightly.
"To see if you're still you," ZERO said.
…
"And to see if you're ready to act."
Darin's eyes snapped open.
Act…
The word settled.
Her hands went still.