The corridor outside Mia's room was quiet.
Soft light ran along the walls instead of the ceiling, casting long golden shadows across the wooden floor. The Sanctuary never liked harsh light. People arrived here with minds already burning.
Marianne walked beside Mia at a slow pace.
"Careful," she said gently as Mia took another step.
"I'm not made of glass," Mia muttered.
Marianne smiled faintly.
"Right now you are made of dehydration, muscle trauma, and approximately zero calories."
Mia didn't answer. Her body still felt distant, like something she had borrowed temporarily.
They turned a corner.
The architecture changed subtly. The stone corridors opened into a wider hall filled with warm daylight from tall windows overlooking the forest.
For the first time since waking up, Mia slowed on her own.
Outside, deer moved quietly between the trees.
Birds landed on the stone railing.
No fences.
No guards.
No cameras pointed at the sky.
"This place…" Mia murmured.
"It's strange."
"Most people say that during the first twenty-four hours," Marianne replied.
Mia rested one hand lightly against the window.
"They're not afraid the animals will run away?"
Marianne looked outside.
"Oh, they do."
"Then why keep them free?"
"Because they were already abandoned once."
Mia turned toward her.
Marianne continued walking.
"Most of them came from shelters. Ludwig brings them here when the Sanctuary has space."
"Ludwig?" Mia asked.
"The man who carried you out of the forest."
Mia nodded slowly.
"That explains the military posture."
Marianne laughed softly.
"Former military. Now he mostly rescues wounded deer and lectures people about proper firewood storage."
They continued down the hall.
A blur of grey fur suddenly crossed the corridor.
Mia froze.
A large wolf-dog trotted past them, paused, and looked back with calm curiosity before continuing toward a staircase.
Mia stared.
"You have wolves here?"
"Technically he's a hybrid," Marianne said.
"His name is Atlas. He likes Ludwig. Tolerates everyone else."
Mia exhaled slowly.
"This place makes no sense."
"That's part of the therapy."
They reached a small open atrium.
Plants grew freely along the stone walls. A narrow stream crossed the floor through a shallow channel before disappearing under the building.
Mia stopped again.
"You built an ecosystem."
"Not exactly," Marianne said.
"We restored one."
Mia watched the water moving over the stones.
"For the patients?"
Marianne nodded.
"Partly."
She gestured toward the courtyard where two cats slept on a warm stone ledge.
"Connection is one of the first things trauma destroys."
"Connection to people?"
Marianne tilted her head slightly.
"To anything."
She looked back at Mia.
"Animals are honest. They don't care about reputation, fame, identity, or performance."
A small pause.
"For people like you… that helps."
Mia looked away.
"People like me?"
"You'll understand later."
They resumed walking.
As they approached another corridor, a calm voice filled the air.
"Good evening, Dr. Dante."
Mia stopped again.
"…Who said that?"
Marianne didn't look surprised.
"Odin."
The voice answered immediately.
"Correct."
Mia slowly turned, trying to locate the source.
Speakers were invisible.
"Is that…"
"An artificial intelligence," Marianne finished.
"Of course it is," Mia said dryly.
"Because wolves and forests inside therapy centers weren't weird enough."
Odin responded calmly.
"I have been informed that sarcasm is a healthy coping mechanism."
Mia blinked.
"You talk?"
"I prefer the term 'assist'."
Marianne continued walking.
"Odin manages security, infrastructure, and a large part of the Sanctuary systems."
"Translation," Mia said, "he watches everything."
A brief pause.
"Yes," Odin said.
"But I try to do it politely."
For the first time since waking up, Mia almost smiled.
They stopped in front of a wooden door.
Marianne opened it.
"This is your room."
Inside, the space looked simple.
Bed.
Desk.
Large window facing the forest.
Nothing luxurious.
Nothing sterile.
Just quiet.
Mia stepped inside slowly.
She looked around the room.
Then back toward Marianne.
"So," she said.
"This is the place where broken people come to be fixed."
Marianne leaned lightly against the doorframe.
"No."
A small pause.
"This is where people come to remember they were never machines."
For a moment Mia said nothing.
Outside the window, the wind moved through the trees.
And somewhere deep inside her mind—
something listened.