"Are you okay?" 101505A asked, tying her blond hair up with a ribbon as usual. Her blue eyes scanned over her roommate, who's hands shook as she struggled to tie her own hair up. Her chest heaved as if she was having trouble breathing, and she looked on the verge of fainting. "You seem even more on edge than usual. I mean, if that's even possible."

She nodded slowly. "I'm okay. I've just been thinking."

"Oh, that's never good. About what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I just feel like I'm being watched very closely. Even more so than before."

"You better make sure you behave today then. Who knows what else is will happen to you?"

12505A's lips curved into a frown. "I'll try."

"You've been trying for too long. Why don't you actually behave for once?"

She bit her lip. "I don't know how to. I'm honestly trying my hardest, but I just crack under the pressure. I don't know how to handle all the expectations. It's amazing how you can do it so effortlessly."

101505A shrugged. "It just comes naturally for me. Perhaps the educators at the Home were defective. Either that, or you yourself are defective. Did anyone from the Home head to this specific facility with you?"

She nodded. "Yes, a boy, but I didn't know him that well."

101505A hummed in reply. She glanced over at the clock and unlocked the door. 12505A followed her quietly, and the two of them proceeded to their classroom. Once there, she sat down unsteadily and waited for the Warden to come around for his daily check.

The day proceeded on as usual, with nothing out of place or even slightly unusual. And so did the next. And the next. And the next. On and on the days went by with nothing changing and everything staying the same, as it should be. She behaved, did her best, and complied with every order she was given. Her old injuries were healing, but still left scars behind as life's cruel reminder of what she had done. She couldn't help but cringe in disgust whenever she saw the ugly whip marks crisscrossing her back or the dark burn scars on her abdomen. At least the uniform concealed all the marks. It would have been so much worse if it was on display for everyone to see. But that, she figured, was just another cruel part of their system. Those figures of authority could hurt and abuse them however they pleased, and then force them cover it up to maintain the facade of their perfect society. But she shook her head. Those thoughts were dangerous. Even considering that could lead to much worse things.

She shut off all the lights of her dormitory, and curled up on her bed. For once, she wasn't feeling scared or distraught or in pain. She just felt completely numb. Nothing could hurt her. Nothing could could make her cry. Nothing could make her laugh. Nothing could made her scream. And nothing could ever make her happy.

***

"...and they took many prisoners and killed many more," the Pedagogue described. "They tortured and mutilated those hostages they took in a brutal attempt to pry any sort of information out of our good citizens. And they have the audacity to call us barbarians?" he paused, setting down his textbook and looking around the room. "On the night of the sixth day of the eighth month, the body of citizen 111684D was found in a back alleyway near Frost Way. His corpse was missing his left ear, his right arm, and his left foot. And what about the entire house of 052972F? He, his wife, and his two children all vanished sometime between the twenty-first of the the second month and the twenty-second. There has been no trace of them since then, and they are likely all dead by now, knowing what the Insurgents do."

He paused for a moment, as if he needed to take time to calm himself down. "Is this justice? All they do is lie and pretend that they're fighting for a noble cause, but no cause could possibly noble if it includes acts like that. Even if their end goal was somehow good, the end does not justify the means."

12505A felt her skin crawl as she imagined what the Pedagogue was describing. From the corner of her eye, she could tell that her classmates were visibly unsettled by the descriptions as well. However, the Pedagogue either didn't notice or didn't care that his students were upset by the lesson, because he continued on, describing in grisly detail the many atrocities of the Insurgents and forcing them to take notes on it. 12505A's hand shook as she wrote, and her blood ran cold when the Pedagogue called her out.

"12505A, is there a problem?"

"No, sir."

"Do not lie to me unless you want to be punished again, 12505A."

Her hands balled up into fists and her nails dug into her skin. "The stories about the Insurgents make me uncomfortable, sir."

"And why did you lie?" he asked, his voice harsh.

She took a deep breath to steady her voice. "I didn't want to anger you. I know this is important material to cover, but I'm just weak and I can't handle it. I sincerely apologize for being a disruption in your class."

The Pedagogue was silent for a moment, and the whole class seemed to hold its breath. "Why couldn't you handle it?" he finally asked, his voice calmer than before.

The whole class seemed shocked, and it took her a moment to recollect her thoughts. "I was quite appalled by what the Insurgents did and how they could even declare that they are doing the right thing. I can't even comprehend the horrors you have been describing, and I feel sick when I even think about it."

The Pedagogue was silent again, and the silence was eating her up alive. Again, after a heart stopping pause, he spoke again, his voice oddly calm and collected. "That reaction is only normal. I know exposing you young folk to the horrors of the outside can result in some discomfort, but it must be taught so that you can truly understand. We are in a war, and wars aren't pretty. Most of you, at some point in your future, will have to deal with the Insurgents in some way. Some of you young men will grow and become Sentinels yourself, actively fighting these rebels. Some of you will will be Inquisitors, and will have to question them. If I haven't already made it clear, these people are psychopathic, uncivilized folk, nothing like what we are." He paused again, his gaze once again directed toward her. "So at this stage, it is normal to feel uneasiness, but you will have to learn to outgrow that. You will learn to treat them as they deserve, and you will show them who is superior. Do you understand?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir, I understand."

"Good," the Pedagogue replied before promptly launching himself back into the lesson. The class went on as normal, but when 12505A was about to leave, the Pedagogue stopped her. She feared that she was in trouble for something again, but the look on his face and the tone of his voice told her otherwise.

"I need you to deliver this to the central office of Building A, Room 101. Do not ask any questions. Just give it to the man sitting at the front desk and return to your quarters promptly. Do you understand?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

Gingerly, he handed her the package. It was a small brown box, about the length of her forearm, and slightly heavy. There were no tags on the outside and it was sealed closed. Without another word, she exited the room and began making her way toward the office. She walked between rows of Sentinels, the sound of the shoes on the ground the only noise in the silent halls. Her hands trembled as she held the package and she felt her stomach turn with anxiety. At last, she reached the office, surprised at herself for making it that far. Shaking, he raised her hand and knocked on the door. It didn't take long for the door to open, and she dearly dropped the package at the sight of the Despot towering over to her. She immediately stood up straighter and diverted her eyes.

"Speak," Despot Sarin spoke, his deep and commanding voice spreading goosebumps across her skin and making her tremble.

I took in a deep breath to calm herself a little before speaking. "Pedagogue Warren sent me to deliver this package to you, sir."

He did not respond right away, and she could feel his eyes burning into her skin as he looked over her. She focused her eyes down on the package in her hands and did not say anything more. Finally, the man spoke. "Step inside the office and shut the door behind you."

He backed up to giver her room and she hurried to do exactly as he instructed. She stood with her back to the door, eyes still downcast, waiting for her next instruction. Why was she sent here? Did she do something wrong? What did the Despot want? Suddenly, she felt her chin forced up by a rough hand and she found herself staring into his deep, dark eyes. Before she could think to suppress it, a small whimper escaped her lips.

"Are you scared?" Despot Sarin asked quietly, still staring darkly at her.

"Yes," she replied, her voice coming out weak and airy.

"Good, you should be." He took the package from her hands roughly and walked to the opposite side of the large brown desk at the back of the room. He motioned for her to sit across from him, and she complied promptly and without a word. Sarin folded his hands on his desk, staring at her intensely.

"12505A," he spoke, his voice quiet but strong. "I have heard much about you, but unfortunately, most of that is extremely disappointing."

Her hands clenched into fists and her nails dug into the palms of her hand. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Sorry..." he muttered with a dry laugh. "How many apologies do I have to hear?"

"I'm truly trying my best, sir. I know I shouldn't make excuses, but I can't understand why it's so hard for me to keep up. Please forgive me. I..."

"Enough," he cut her off. She shut her mouth and looked at him nervously. "I don't want to hear whatever nonsense you want to spout. From what I've heard, corrective measures have already been taken, and have resulted in little effect. Don't you wonder why you're still alive right now?"

She clenched her hands tighter. "Please, sir, don't—"

"Answer the question!" Sarin yelled, slamming his fist on the desk. She jumped in surprise, and it took all her willpower not to break down in front of him. If she didn't keep it together, she feared that worse repercussions were in store for her.

"Yes, sir, I do wonder why I'm still here after all my failures."

"Do you think you deserve to be here?"

She bit her lip. "No, sir. Y-You've all been far too patient with me."

"And why do you think that's so?"

Her heart was racing and she felt lightheaded. "I-I don't know, sir."

"Well," he said, leaning back in his seat, his voice shockingly more calm and even than before. "Let me tell you a story."