I woke up.
Or rather, I was forced to wake up when the door to our room was suddenly thrown open by one of the guards. He didn't even bother to look at us. His face showed no emotion at all, only the calm efficiency of a soldier carrying out an order.
He threw a set of clothes onto the floor in front of each of us.
They were all identical uniforms, dark gray in color. The only difference was a number sewn onto the chest, right where the heart should have been.
"Change. You have five minutes. From now on, the numbers on your uniforms will be your new names."
He paused, staring at us with cold eyes.
"If you are caught using any other way to refer to each other… there will be consequences."
No one answered.
Maybe because we were still waking up. Or maybe because, after not even a full day in this place, they were already trying to erase our identities.
The man in front of us continued speaking with the same indifference.
"I repeat: five minutes. If you are not outside the room by then, I will personally drag you out.Even if you're naked."
We didn't need to hear it twice. We immediately started changing.
I glanced at my number.
33.
This would become my new identity starting today. I had no idea for how long—maybe forever. The thought only made me feel more desperate.
After getting dressed, I looked at the new names of my companions.
Victor had **12** written on his chest.
The boy who had remained silent the entire time had **7**.
Milo had **19**.
Liam had **25**.
As I had already noticed, the uniforms were all identical. For me and Milo, who had smaller builds, they were too big. The sleeves almost covered our hands. Victor's, on the other hand, was a little tight, while it seemed to fit Liam and the silent boy just fine.
Once everyone had finished changing, Milo—or rather **19**—spoke.
"W… what do we do?"
Liam answered him.
"We don't have much choice. We have to go out."
We all nodded and stepped into the hallway.
Just outside, we found the guard who had woken us waiting for us.
"Follow me."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and started walking without even checking if we were behind him.
As we walked through the corridors, we passed many doors identical to ours. Some were empty. Others had children like us standing in front of them, waiting silently. They were ordered to line up behind us and follow.
During our walk, some children weren't fast enough to change, while others simply tried to resist the orders.
The guard showed them no mercy.
They were brutally beaten to set an example—both for them and for everyone listening. I could hear their groans, their screams, and their desperate pleas for mercy.
The fact that the doors stayed closed the entire time made it even more unsettling.
When a door finally opened, the guard always came out first.
Sometimes his hands were stained with blood.
Behind him came the children, barely able to stand.
Even so, they were ordered to line up like everyone else and warned not to make the same mistake again. Otherwise, the punishment would be even worse.
Eventually we were led into a large hall filled with stone tables and benches.
Near the tables stood two large cauldrons, with several people beside them who had probably prepared breakfast.
The guard spoke again.
"Eat. You have fifteen minutes to finish everything. Anyone who doesn't will be punished the same way as before."
What frightened me most wasn't his words, but the way he said them.
There was no cruelty in his voice.
No anger.
It sounded like he was simply stating a fact.
Everyone moved quickly, driven by the fear of being the next to be beaten—myself included.
As I hurriedly ate whatever that disgusting food was, I couldn't help thinking about the orphanage.
I missed breakfast around the table Bob and everyone talking loudly at once.
I missed Rita waking me up every morning.
I missed my friends.
I missed the old man.
I missed everything.
I didn't have much time to dwell on the past because, exactly fifteen minutes later, the guard returned and led us once again through the corridors of the underground facility, lit only by a few dim lamps.
After several turns, we finally arrived in a massive space.
It looked like an arena with an incredibly high ceiling.
We were led to the center, where a man was waiting.
Our guide gave him a respectful nod and then left.
"I am Instructor Ronald." the man said.
"I will be responsible for your physical training. You will follow my orders exactly. Objections are not allowed. If anyone falls behind or stops, I will show no mercy."
He paused briefly.
"Now start with **five full laps**."
Then he shouted:
"MOVE!"
I started running with the others.
I managed to finish the first lap, but by the second my breathing was already becoming heavy. I began to slow down and realized I wasn't the only one.
Most of those falling behind were the children who had been punished earlier.
Some already looked like they were about to collapse.
I completed the second lap.
Halfway through the third, I heard someone fall behind me.
"JULIAN!"
Someone shouted.
Not even a second later, Instructor Ronald appeared in front of the two boys—the exhausted one and the one who had shouted.
He grabbed them both and dragged them to the center of the training field.
Then he pulled out the whip hanging at his side.
The first crack echoed across the arena.
"DON'T STOP!" he shouted at the rest of us.
At first I didn't understand why the other boy was being punished too.
Then I remembered.
He had shouted his name.
That was the reason.
It was unbelievably cruel, but there was nothing I could do for them.
I kept running with the group.
More children collapsed and joined the others in the center.
Among them was Milo.
The rest of us kept running, and after a stretch of time that felt both short and endless, we finally completed the five laps.
There wasn't even a moment to rest.
"DOWN!"
Ronald's voice thundered across the arena.
"THIRTY PUSH-UPS! AND NONE OF YOU WILL LEAVE THIS FIELD UNTIL EVERY EXERCISE IS DONE!"
After twelve push-ups, I collapsed.
Like a dark premonition, the instructor suddenly appeared beside me.
He grabbed me and began striking my back with the whip.
The burning pain made me scream at the top of my lungs as I curled up, trying to protect the most vulnerable parts of my body.
After the push-ups, we moved from one exercise to another for the entire morning.
Almost no one managed to finish everything without collapsing at least once.
I considered myself lucky that I was punished only twice.
After all, we were all at the age of awakening—between ten and fourteen years old.
The training we were going through was simply impossible for us.
But no one had the courage to say it out loud.
After hours of exhausting training, the instructor called us to the center of the field and looked at us with obvious disappointment.
"Your physical abilities are lower than I expected."
His gaze passed over each of us.
"From now on you will train here every morning and every afternoon. Your only breaks will be meals and sleep."
Then he added:
"My goal is to turn your bodies into weapons in service of the organization. Those who fail to meet my expectations will be discarded and sent to the laboratories in the lower levels."
He gestured toward the exit.
"Now go eat. Be back here in thirty minutes."
I could barely stay on my feet.
My body felt broken.
I turned to look at my roommates and saw that Milo was in terrible shape. Liam and Victor looked better, but they were still exhausted and covered in bruises.
We mechanically followed the guard back to the dining hall.
The food was still horrible, but I needed the energy if I wanted to survive. I forced myself to swallow everything.
Liam sat beside me with Milo, Victor, and the silent boy.
"That was brutal," Liam said.
Victor nodded grimly.
"And we're only halfway through the first day."
Milo lowered his head.
"I… I don't think I'll last long. Why are we here? I just wanted to make my family proud… to see them happy…"
He looked like he was about to cry.
Liam placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You can't give up.You have to be strong. One day you'll see them again."
"Thank you, L—"
I stopped him immediately.
"Don't use our names.If they hear us, we'll be punished. And training is already hard enough as it is."
"R… right. Thank you, 25."
He looked at me.
"And you too… 33."
I nodded.
"Let's finish eating. We don't have much time."
I lowered my gaze back to the food.
My hands were trembling.
In just a few minutes, we would be back in that arena.