Numbers and Shadows

Chapter 8: Numbers and Shadows

Since the day I returned, the air in the common area had thickened with tension. Eyes followed me wherever I went. It wasn't obvious—just quick glances, nervous shifts, and whispers that barely reached my ears. But I felt it all the same. They were watching me, more carefully than before.

The children weren't just curious. They were waiting. Waiting to see if I would fall apart after what the staff had done. If I would break under the pressure that had settled over me since crossing the line and reaching for the fragments.

But I hadn't broken. I was still here.

I kept my distance from them, sitting in my usual corner. It was the perfect place to observe without drawing too much attention. The whispers continued, the conversations that slipped past like shadows, never meant for me to hear.

But as I sat there, a new realization had begun to form in my mind—something I had overlooked before: the numbers.

I was #0732. I had always known that. The staff used our numbers like labels, ways to track us, to categorize us like we were inventory. When I was younger, it hadn't meant much. But now, after everything I had seen and experienced, I understood that the numbers weren't random.

There was a pattern.

The boy I had been watching—the one with the glowing hands—was #0529. His number was lower than mine, and that mattered. The lower the number, the more attention the staff gave. The lower numbers received the first nods, the harder tests. And it wasn't just the attention. The children with the lower numbers had something else, something more tangible: power.

The older they were, the more developed their abilities.

And me? I was near the bottom. #0732. My number spoke of failure, of weakness. The staff had known from the beginning what I would become—or more precisely, what I wouldn't become. And they had marked me accordingly.

But I wasn't going to accept that.

My number didn't define me. It couldn't.

The fragments were still out there. I had seen them—felt their pull. They were more than just objects locked away in glass cases. They held the key to everything I didn't yet understand, and I wasn't going to let my number stand in the way of reaching them.

The other children moved in their circles, whispering, practicing their abilities in secret, all under the constant watch of the staff. But there were moments—small, fleeting cracks in their control—when the staff wasn't paying attention.

I waited for one of those moments. And when it came, I moved.

#0529 was sitting alone, his hands glowing faintly as he played with the energy between his fingers. He didn't seem surprised when I approached him, though he didn't look up right away. His attention remained on the light in his palm.

"You're curious," he said, after a long pause. His voice was calm, almost indifferent.

I sat down near him, keeping a careful distance so as not to draw attention. The others hadn't noticed us yet, but I couldn't be sure how long that would last.

"I need to know about the fragments," I said, keeping my voice low. "They're the key, aren't they?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he let the light in his hand dim, the room growing slightly darker. His silence stretched long enough that I wondered if I had made a mistake in approaching him. But then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

"The fragments are for those who earn them," he said, his tone quiet but firm. "Only those who show potential. You… haven't shown it yet."

Frustration flared inside me, but I bit it back, my fists tightening in my lap. "That's because they won't let me near them."

He finally turned to face me, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "It's not about what they let you do. It's about what you take."

His words struck me like a slap. I had been waiting—waiting for permission, for the staff to allow me access to the fragments. But that wasn't how it worked. The fragments weren't handed out. They were claimed by those who were strong enough to take them.

"And you think I can't?" I asked, my voice harder than I intended.

He shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "That's up to you, #0732. If you want to move beyond your number, you'll have to show them something they can't ignore."

His words echoed in my mind, the weight of them settling deep in my chest. The staff wasn't going to hand me the fragments. They weren't going to guide me to them. If I wanted to access their power, I had to take it for myself.

I stood up, my thoughts racing with new possibilities. #0529 watched me as I walked away, but he didn't say anything more. He didn't need to. The message was clear.

I had been waiting for them to unlock my power, waiting for the staff to show me the way. But that wasn't how it worked. The power had always been mine to claim. I just hadn't known how to reach it yet.

My number—#0732—wasn't going to be my limit. It couldn't be. If I could break free from the expectations they had placed on me, if I could claim the fragments for myself, then none of this would matter.

The fragments were still out there, waiting.

And this time, I wouldn't wait for permission.