It was still there. It had to be. He hadn't gone through all of this to not get even one slip of paper saying this all happened. He just couldn't have. "Times up." The voice called from the other side of the stage. He hadn't found anything. So many people had died and he hadn't found one slip of proof. It was a living nightmare.

He had failed.

§§§

"You know," Pūr began, toying with the corners of her waffle, along with Damian's sanity, "You really need to try taking a break. Cry a little. Read a book. Wa-"
"You know what happens to kids who slack off." He cut in, already knowing how badly she wanted to get out of here and not have to worry about her life every second. "Yeah, but you need to cry Damian. I do it, and I'm still here." He sighed. "We've been over this. Your a favorite, they won't kill you. Me and Val, we're dead meet."

She still had her chin up high. Snot nosed brat. "You guys are special squadron. They won't kill you either."
"Yes they totally will!" Val came over to join them. "Is Pūr giving you a hard time again?" Damian nodded. "Come on Pūr, you know what happens to slackers." Pūr sighed. "You guys know full well we would be better off out there. But fine, what did up they give the specs for breakfast today?"

§§§

Half way through the day, Val and Damian met up in APAT well the others were doing pull ups. "How do you think Pūr is fairing right about now?" Damian asked, knocking his head back as he gulped down the water. Val sighed always about Pūr. "Probably fine. How was math?" Damian pulled the water cup away from his mouth. "Easy, but kind of trivial." She smiled. "Tell me about it dummy."

§§§

At lunch, everything was normal.

§§§

At dinner, nothing was normal.

When they finally got to the cafeteria, Val and Damian were instantly huddled into line, rather then getting their weight checked as usual. They happened to be next to Pūr in line, so they leaned over to begin whispering. "What's going on?" Val asked, leaning in to hear Pūr's response better. "You guys don't know?"

Damian was beginning to get worried. "Know what?" Pūr waved her hand around in the air. "Just a presentation with some mumbo jumbo, you'll be fine. Guess they were to busy training the specs that they didn't tell you."

Once they got down the line, they were not handed food. A note was handed to them instead, each from marked boxes with their names on them. 379, Valkyrie Petra, and 901, Pūr Bronwyn, and 567, Damian Bruce. They didn't have last names, just middle and first. The numbers we're nice, it made them unlike any other children the workers said, to have numbers for a name.

Suddenly, around half and hour later, a voice boomed through the loudspeaker. "Attention please, allies of sectoral research facility 1155911," Everyone froze, and it was as if someone had covered the world with a blanket shoved down its throat. You could hear a footstep from over a mile away.

"As you know, for many years now we have prided ourselves in being the best facility of our kind. We formed alliances, prevented wars, and saved people's lives. But now the war is over, and there shall never again be one of its kind. So, and it pains me to say it, you are no longer needed 1155911."

Some people were already realizing what was happening, there were children running every which way, some still trying to read their slips of paper in the dim lighting, but everyone was dreading every last word this person dared to speak.

"If you look on your paper, that will tell you your method of execution." Everyone was panicking now. "Some of you may notice that your paper simply says, santuario. That means, that you are safe. Please exit to you left. Please be aware that we know the mark of a true santuario, and we will find you out if you try to fake it. You will also be punished. Brutally."

Damian had already grabbed their hand and bolted. "Mine says santuario." He says, waiting anxiously for the others to squint enough through the darkness. "Mine too." Val said exitedly. 'I'm glad.' Pūr thought to herself, looking up slowly at last, she had always dreaded this moment, she had always had this hunch that she'd die young. But now it was true. And oh how ironic it was, to be killed by the very people who she thought loved her the most.

The caretakers. Some were all ready shooting kids. None wasted a moment to grab them by the collar of their phone dress or shirt. It was the chaos she had always thought she would face only in battle.

"Mine says... Firing squad." Damian didn't waste a heart beat denying it. "What? They can't do that! Your a favorite!" Pūr smiled. "You guys... your remarkable. Val will probably help someone win a war with only her brain. And Damian, you are the strongest person I know. You will be the best future in the world. How could I possibly ask to live instead of you."

"But-" Just then a caretaker, his name was Oliver right? He walked over and put a hand on Val's shoulder. "You two should get out of here." He said loudly to be over the commotion. "But sir, our friend, Pūr, there's a mistake, she isn't a santuario. She's supposed to be one. She's a favorite." Oliver smiled in a way Damian supposed was supposed to be kind. "She didn't pass the test that we gave the non specials, there fore she isn't someone we should ever waste any more rations on."

"What? She's perfect though, her scores are above average and..."
"And she failed to test, now come with me or we'll force you out. Everything in this building will be gone by morning. It's either die with your friend and leave Val alone, or stay alive and be there with at least one of them. Which do you choose?"

§§§

Val had to carry Damian out of the building that day.