It had been a few years since 296 was in Dr. Exor's care. Oh, but she would call him Dr. Sir Exor; he was very insistent on that.

"And, please. 296. Refer to me as Dr. Sir Exor. You ought to show respect to the people who care for you." He said to her one day. She was so young at the time–only four years. But she knew that she must respect him. Dr. Sir Exor gave her everything and raised her inside this world; it was blasphemous to not follow his rules in return.

"Yes, Dr. Sir Exor." 296 replied. Her voice was light and whispery, with a hint of obedience. Or a lot. 296 had always felt very indebted to him.

And she trusted him with all her heart.

She was now six years old. A very thin figure and short girl, with light blue strands stretching no longer than her shoulders.

She also had a friend who was a little older; 291. She was probably twelve, with brunette curls like a bush around her head. And only her head; it never got any longer. She was also thin and her skin was the color of pine wood.

"296," 291 started as they sat on the white benches. It was cornered in one of the open small spaces–hanging from the side of the hallways. 291's legs swung back and forth. "I heard you were getting stamped today," 296 nodded excitedly as 291's eyes narrowed and scrunched.

"Well good luck. I remember getting the stamp a while back. And it was..." 291 bit her lip and grunted. The memory was engraved in her mind like the mark that was stamped on the back of her neck. The endless screaming, the cries of "OWW!" as hot tears flew in all directions. It burned as the scientists stamped it. And then her sore throat and swollen eyebags after that hour...

It was so vivid in her mind. And yet she couldn't describe it. Oh, how she wished to know the word to describe it. What do you call that, even? She didn't know. She rolled her eyes at the sheer frustration.

"It is for Dr. Sir Exor. I certainly wouldn't mind." She waved her hand at 291. "And besides, he promised to teach me one-on-one later. About many things. Like math. And reading."

291 simply cocked her head and let out a small half smile.

Oh, how she did not know.

"296!" A call echoed from one of the women in the hallways. She paced, quick on her heels towards the two numbers.

And with a quick pace, she was now standing in front of them. Her eyes shone, in colors of indigo and violet. Wrinkles formed around the creases of her eyes as she gave a straight smile.

"296," she says again, quieter this time. "It is time for your stamping."

296 smiled to 291, who simply sighed back.

"Okay." 296 stood up and looked up at the woman. "I'm ready."

#

296 followed the woman through the long hallway. The square ceiling lights glowed–with the help of Youmlay berries inside–and reflected on the floor, which was covered in square tiles. It glowed brighter than white.

Dr. Sir Exor taught me what time of day it would be if all the lights were shining on. 296 thought to herself, thinking of the one learning session she had with Dr. Sir Exor. He taught her about the times of day. And it was lighttime.

As they walked, 296 also saw many closed doors. It was not an unfamiliar sight, for she had been walking down these hallways many times before. There were also open spaces, with other numbers with scientists and numerous equipment. Trolleys filled with all sorts of plants were shoved in there.

Those plants. Dr. Sir Exor taught me that they grow in this world of the Institute, and in the plant rooms.

She and the woman continued to walk in silence. 296 did not know her name, but she had seen her many times before. She was hard to miss, even with the uniformed white robes. Her hair matched her eyes, in the same shades of bright indigo and dark purples, and she had it in a high ponytail. It swayed from side to side as she walked. Swish, swish, swish.

"296," the woman finally spoke. By now, they were standing by a gray door.

"Yes, miss?" 296 asked. Her arms formed a V shape–connected by her hands–as she stood behind the woman.

"Dr. Exor is waiting for you." Her voice cracked slightly. She didn't turn her head to 296 as she opened the door. "Please," she sighed. "Go in."

#

296 trotted inside, a heart of devotion to her Sir blossoming inside her. She smiled radiantly.

"Hello, Dr. Sir Exor," her whispery voice spoke. "You said it is time for my stamping?"

Dr. Sir Exor–who had been sitting on a swivel chair the whole time, back faced to the girl–turned his chair and flashed a smile.

"Why, yes. It is, 296." He replied. Behind him was a myriad of scattered papers on his otherwise clean-white desk. There was also some unfamiliar equipment 296 had never seen before. How curious.

And the drawers were shut closed underneath the gray, sleek countertop. Just like pursed lips.

"Well." Dr. Sir Exor stood from his seat and grabbed one of the seemingly unfamiliar equipment. It looked much like a standing, portable doorknob to 296. The black handle reminded her of the doorknobs that would line up in the hallways, and the brick it was attached to was metal and shining.

Dr. Sir Exor then grabbed another unfamiliar container–filled with glowing red and orange thick juice–and dipped the "doorknob" in the container. Then he held it up.

"296," he said. "Please kneel on the ground."

296 was confuzzled. Kneeling was never a request she got before. Still, she kneeled on the ground, both knees touching the cold, tile floor. Her white one piece dress dropped to the ground as well.

"Now lay down. Lower..." 296 inched closer to the ground. She was practically on a crawling level now... "Lower..."

And then she felt a burn on her neck.

Hiiiiiisssssssss...

HISS.

"OWWW!" she shrieked. 296's back bounced, the sudden heat seeping into her skin. She wrangled and shifted her shoulders, trying to shake away the burn. Her mouth gaped and trembled.

But Dr. Sir Exor pushed her back, pinning her on her stomach.

"Stay down," he ordered. His voice boomed in the air. "I'm not finished."

And then another burn was pushed to her neck.

"Oww..."

"Be quiet, 296. This will be a lot quicker if you're quieter." Dr. Sir Exor pushed her back and pressed the "doorknob" to her neck again.

The pain wrapped around her neck like fire. It burned. It hissed behind her and in her blood and flesh. It flamed on her neck, and the heat traveled to her back, under her skin and in her bones and all around and it became so hot to touch.

The pain even wrapped around places where it shouldn't have.

Hisssssssssssssssss...

She could even smell smoke from her hair tips. Gray, airy wisps covered her nose. She coughed and choked at the scent. Hag, hac!

296 squeaked and coughed at her tears, streaming from her cheeks. A waterfall poured from her eyes, sinking by drops onto the tile creases, fogging her vision until she was underwater...

Oh my.

I didn't even realize I was crying.

"Be quiet, 296." Dr. Exor quietly scoffed behind her. "You know I'm only doing this for your own good, remember?"

The number nodded.

"Good. Now stop crying. It's painful to watch."

Dr. Sir Exor pressed the doorknob to her neck again. He pushed even harder.

HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS...

296 bit her lip. Do not cry. Do not cry. She even squeezed her eyes shut until she could no longer see the submerged filter in her vision. She gulped down every urge to scream out loud, her voice bubbling and rising and sinking in her throat.

But she could still feel a squirt of water from the corners and folds.

And the heat burned her so badly. It still crawled under her skin and spreaded like fire. Smoke, still fogging around her that she couldn't see.

And if I was so devoted and loyal, why am I even trying to suppress her tears? Shouldn't it be natural to me? What kind of person am I, behaving in front of him like this? Dr. Sir Exor gave me everything. The least I could do was obey.

296 squeezed her eyes tighter at the thought. She could feel a whimper coming out of her.

Her breath was shaky, and yet so quiet. She choked and coughed so silently it was almost like Dr. Sir Exor couldn't hear.

"Hag, hac..." She coughed with a whisper. Her head spun. MNNNNNNNNNNNMMM. The headache must've crawled to her ears as a humming sound mixed with the burn and hissing.

Everything hurts. I feel sick. 296's stomach squeezed and tensed and locked and twisted.

That burn, when will it be over?

Her mind noisily screamed at the pain. The burning "sensation" hissed on her back like a pest.

And yet the room itself was silent...

Dr. Sir Exor then lifted his hand from 296's back. He also lifted his other hand, which held the foreign doorknob-pressing object. He stared down at the coal-chewed ends of her hair. They were far too long, he couldn't see the label he just stamped on her. He needed to see it, for it made keeping track of every number far easier. He could tell who was labeled with which number and track it on his records.

Dr. Sir Exor sighed, his green ponytail shaking with his head sideways.

"Be right back. Stay there, 296."

Dr. Sir Exor trotted to the clean-white yet unruly desk to grab a tool with two hoops and a sharp blade.

296 scooted to sit upwards on her knees. She finally opened her eyes, squinted and small from squeezing them so tight.

Her eyes were red and puffy, with sprinkles of tears around her eyes. Her face was flushed, looking almost like blood against her pale skin, and covered in water and tears.

And her hair...

SHOOOOOWP!

A speedy cut sliced! through the ends of her hair. It left some scars on her neck, but nevermind the small trickling of blood. She froze her hand on the ground, keeping it from reaching and touching the fresh wound. Dr. Sir Exor would not like that.

Dr. Sir Exor stared at her from behind with the blade in his hands. 296 turned her head to face him, lip trembling at the shock.

He simply just stared back and smiled.

"Good job, 296. You are a very obedient one."

Strands and chunks of hair scattered the floor like a ring around the number, with coal-burnt ends and uneven, thick strands. She also now had a number on her back; 296 in red, stamped lettering.

The smell of smoke no longer lingered, or perhaps she no longer cared for the scent out of the joy from Dr. Sir Exor's approval.

And so–even after all that–she cracked a smile.

#

291 was surprised to find 296 so quiet when she came from her stamping.

"How was it?" 291 turned to her. She still waited, faithfully on the same white bench in the open-space room. 291 sat by the indigo-eyed woman from earlier, who revealed her name to be Harpostia. She was a beautiful and distinct woman. She seemed quite older, too. If some of the other scientists were to guess, they would say she was around her forties, but 296 nor 291 had that thought come to them. She wore a white coat–similar to the one Dr. Sir Exor wore–and had her hair in a long ponytail.

Or maybe they were more like a pair of horsetails–straight and swaying, left and right. They didn't make that boing as a pigtail could. It just swished. Swish, swish, swish.

Those horsetails matched her eyes too, which were a lovely shade of purple and light indigo, and strands of silver and white were hidden in her pony-horsetails, too.

296 sucked in a large breath with her quivering lip.

"It was fine." She choked at the -ine and blinked at the both of them, her eyelids rapidly flickering as she tried to somehow soak up the tears by blinking. She tilted her head downward ever so slightly and took another long breath.

But words couldn't truly describe how the almost-endless burning "sensation" on her neck felt. She couldn't see herself, but 296 had empty eyebags in coal black–a striking contrast to her pale-white skin. And her eyes were tear-filled still–even with the rapid blinking.

There were no words to describe it.

Or rather, she didn't know any.

291 looked down and fiddled with her thumbs. Harpostia wrapped one of her hands around the arm from her other hand.

And, without looking up, 291 simply replied in a quiet voice.

"Yea, 296. I know."