13

The forest swallowed them again, deeper this time.

Ken could still hear the distant hum of the failsafe alarms—like a scream echoing into the trees—but it was growing faint. Behind them, Room R was likely dust and rubble. Another truth buried.

They ran until the only sounds left were their breathing and the soft crunch of leaves underfoot. The canopy above let in streaks of dying light, enough to see the mud clinging to their boots, the cuts along their arms, the way Misty's hair stuck to her cheeks with sweat.

Eventually, they found an old overpass—abandoned, half-collapsed, and hidden beneath vines. Ken ducked inside first, sweeping the area with his eyes. No signs of drones. No footprints. Just quiet decay.

"This'll have to do," he said.

Misty helped Dawn sit against the wall. He winced as his back hit the concrete.

"Still alive," he muttered, half a smile on his pale lips.

Ken sat beside him. He didn't say anything at first. His thoughts were thick, clouded. Everything he thought he knew about himself, about the world, had shattered in less than 24 hours. And every time he tried to piece it together again, it felt like the parts were changing.

He was a subject.

He was the anchor.

He was the reason they hadn't erased Misty or Dawn.

Why?

What was inside him that made him immune?

And if he'd never consented to any of this... what was left of his real self?

Misty sat across from him, arms wrapped around her knees.

Her voice was soft. "They called me the Ghost."

Ken looked up.

"They said I fake joy. That it's a flaw. But maybe it's the only thing that's kept me alive."

Ken didn't know how to respond. So he didn't.

Instead, he looked to Dawn, who had pulled something from the pocket of his jacket—a photo. It was old, folded down the center, the edges fraying. He handed it to Ken.

Ken unfolded it.

The image was blurry, but he recognized it immediately.

It was them.

On the swing set.

Ken and Dawn, mid-laugh, frozen in time.

Ken's throat tightened. "Where did you get this?"

"I don't know," Dawn said. "I just... had it. I kept it hidden when they tried to reset me."

Misty leaned in to look. "You were happy."

Ken nodded. "I think... maybe I was."

For a moment, silence returned—but this time, it wasn't heavy. It wasn't about fear. It was just quiet. The kind of quiet that felt earned.

But it didn't last.

A twig snapped outside the tunnel.

Ken was on his feet instantly, motioning for the others to stay down.

He peered through the cracks in the ivy-covered entrance.

Nothing.

Then—another sound. Lighter. Quicker.

Footsteps.

But not military.

Not boots.

Sneakers.

And then a voice:

"Ken?"

Ken stepped forward slowly, heart suddenly pounding for a new reason.

The figure emerged from the trees.

Slender. Shaggy brown hair. Freckles. A familiar face from somewhere deep in his memory.

"Luca?" Ken said.

The boy nodded.

Ken hadn't seen him since he was in Class D. He'd been "transferred" after a breakdown. Everyone had assumed he was gone.

"I knew you'd be the one to figure it out," Luca said. "They tried to rewrite me, too. It didn't take."

Ken approached cautiously. "How did you find us?"

"I've been watching the forest. Waiting for someone else to wake up." He looked past Ken to Misty and Dawn. "You brought the Ghost. And the broken prototype."

Ken's eyes narrowed. "Careful."

Luca held up his hands. "Sorry. Bad habit. Being alone makes you cold."

Ken hesitated, then motioned him inside.

They gathered in the tunnel's deeper corner, fireless, lightless.

Luca sat cross-legged, pulling a wrinkled piece of paper from his jacket.

"I found this. In one of the old technician stations near the water tanks," he said. "It's a list."

Ken took it, scanning quickly.

The names were labeled: Subjects marked for disposal.

There were dozens. Some crossed out. Some labeled "missing."

And one name circled in red ink:

KEN VOSS — DEFERRED

Ken's jaw locked.

"They planned to wipe you," Luca said. "But something stopped them. Maybe you had allies on the inside. Maybe someone hesitated."

Ken stared at the list.

Right below his name was Misty's.

And Dawn's.

Deferred. All three of them.

"They need us for something," Ken said. "But they don't know what."

"Or they do," Dawn whispered, "and they're afraid."

Misty stood, brushing dirt from her pants. "Then let's make them afraid for real."

Ken looked up at her.

"For the first time, we know the truth. And we're not alone anymore."

Luca nodded. "There's more of us. Hidden. Watching. Waiting for a spark."

Ken closed his eyes for a second.

Then opened them.

"I'll be the spark."

That night, as the stars slowly returned to the sky, Ken couldn't sleep.

He sat outside the tunnel, staring up into the quiet dark.

Behind him, Misty had fallen asleep beside Dawn. Even Luca had dozed off.

But Ken stayed awake.

Because now that he knew who he was—

He was never going back.

Not to Bright High.

Not to silence.

Not to sleepwalking through a perfect lie.

Tomorrow, the rebellion would begin.

And this time, he wasn't going to hide.