Maya's eyes fluttered open. For a long moment, she simply stared at the ceiling above her. The light was soft, diffused, coming from somewhere she couldn't quite see.
She blinked once. Twice.
Then memory crashed into her like a wave—
The forest, the guards, the blood on her hands. Subject 0011's body crumpling. The Instructor's cold smile.
She sat up so fast that her vision swam.
The room was unfamiliar. White walls. Polished floors. A single chair beneath her, though she didn't remember being placed there.
And then she saw him.
Subject 0011 was lying on a bed a few feet away, his thin frame barely visible beneath the thin blanket that covered him. His face was pale, eyes closed.
Maya's breath caught in her throat.
She was on her feet, her hand reached out, trembling, hovering just above his shoulder.
"0011?"
No response.
Her fingers pressed against his shoulder, gentle at first, then firmer. "0011. Wake up."
A low groan escaped his lips.
His eyelids fluttered, then opened slowly as though the weight of consciousness was almost too much to bear.
"0017A...?" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
Maya let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Yeah. It's me."
Subject 0011 blinked, his eyes focusing on her face. A faint, tired smile touched his lips. "You look... you look like you've seen a ghost."
"Shut up." The words came out sharper than she intended, "You're alive."
"Last time I checked." He tried to push himself upright, wincing as he moved. His hand flew to his chest, pressing against the spot where the bullet had struck.
There was no wound.
Maya stared at the spot, "The bullet... you were shot. I saw you fall."
Subject 0011 looked down at his chest,"It doesn't hurt. It feels..."
Before Maya could respond, a low groan came from across the room.
Subject 0014 was sitting up on another bed, his bald head gleaming under the soft light.
He rubbed his temples, his expression groggy and disoriented. "What the hell... where are we?"
Subject 0002 was already on her feet, her sharp eyes scanning the room with cold precision. She moved to the window, peering through the reinforced glass at the corridor beyond.
"Looks like we're still in the facility, different wing, maybe."
Subject 0004 was the last to rise. He sat up slowly, "We're not in the simulation anymore."
"No kidding," Subject 0014 muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I feel like I got hit by a truck."
"You got hit by a bullet," Maya said flatly.
Subject 0014 blinked. "Wait, what?"
Before anyone could answer, the door slid open with a soft hiss.
The Instructor stood in the doorway, her amber eyes sweeping across the room with satisfaction.
"Ah. You're all awake. Good."
The five children tensed, their bodies instinctively coiling with alertness. Subject 0014's hand shot to his side, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there.
Subject 0002's sharp eyes narrowed, her fingers curling into fists.
The Instructor's lips curved into a faint, almost amused smile. "There's no need for that. You're not in danger— at least."
"Where are we?" Subject 0014 demanded. "And what the hell happened back there?"
"You've been extracted from the simulation. The bullet was a simulation—designed to create the appropriate psychological response."
Maya's jaw tightened.
"I shot him to complete the extraction, The emotional response was a necessary component of the transition."
Subject 0011's face had gone pale again. "So... so I didn't actually die?"
"You were never going to die, that was the point of the simulation."
Subject 0014 let out a incredulous laugh. "So you just... shot him for fun?"
"For results. And the results were... satisfactory. Now, you are taken to your new quarters. You've earned the privilege of moving to the next phase—Nirvana B. Your training will continue there."
She stepped aside, gesturing toward the corridor beyond. "Follow me."
The corridor was different from the ones they had known. The walls were smoother, the floors polished to a mirror-like shine.
Soft ambient light emanated from the ceiling, casting a warm glow that seemed almost gentle—a stark contrast to the harsh fluorescent lights of the lower levels.
The five children walked in silence, their footsteps soft against the polished floor.
Subject 0014's bald head gleamed under the warm light. Subject 0011's glasses had been replaced—new frames, clearer lenses.
Subject 0002's sharp eyes swept across the corridor with cold precision.
And Maya—Maya walked at the front, her dark eyes fixed on the Instructor's back, her mind churning with questions she didn't dare voice.
The Instructor stopped before a massive door—sleek, metallic, its surface marked with a single symbol [NIRVANA B — PHASE TWO]
Above the door, carved into the dark metal itself, was a symbol.
[THE SYMBOL OF NIRVANA B]
Centre – A cracked skull, left half melted as though consumed by acid. The right eye socket held a burning coal—red, smoldering.
The left eye socket dripped black oil, slow and viscous, like tears that had been weeping for centuries.
Mouth – Open jaw with no teeth, only darkness. From that void, three snake heads emerged, their eyes glowing red.
Top – A burnt thorn crown sat on the skull, each thorn bent and broken, some snapped entirely. Above it, an inverted crescent moon—the new moon, the moon of beginnings and endings.
Sides – Left side: a torn black wing, half-charred, its feathers frayed and smoking. Right side: a skeletal hand, its bony fingers wrapped around the skull as though it was trying to crush it or protect it—it was impossible to tell.
Background – An oval ring of fire surrounded the whole symbol, half-broken, with cracks leaking smoke—thin, grey tendrils that seemed to move even in the stillness of the carving.
Colours – Only black, deep red, rotting green, and grey.
Subject 0014 stared at the symbol, his bald head gleaming under the dim light. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.
He let out a low, incredulous whistle. "0011... the person who designed this was absolutely insane."
Subject 0011's face had gone pale. His glasses slipped down his nose, and he didn't bother to push them back up. "Absolutely. One hundred percent. Completely insane."
He pointed at the skull, his finger trembling slightly.
"Look at that—the left half is melted. Who thinks of that? Who wakes up in the morning and says, 'You know what would look great on a door? A skull that's half-melted and crying black oil.'"
"Don't forget the snake heads," Subject 0014 added, gesturing toward the three serpents emerging from the jaw.
"With a crown of thorns—"
"—that are also burned."
"AND the skeletal hand—" Subject 0014 said, his voice rising with disbelief.
"—grabbing the skull—"
"—like it's trying to—" Subject 0014 made a vague, frustrated gesture with his hands.
"—I don't even know what it's trying to do! Crush it? Hold it? Give it a hug?"
Subject 0011 let out a choked laugh. "A hug. From a skeleton. That's definitely what's happening here."
Behind them, Subject 0002 let out a long, weary sigh. Her sharp eyes narrowed as she studied the symbol, her expression unreadable.
"Are you two quite finished?"
Subject 0014 turned to look at her, his grin widening.
"Come on, 0002. Look at it. Really look at it. You can't tell me that's not the most terrifying thing you've ever seen."
Subject 0002's gaze flicked to the symbol. Then she looked back at Subject 0014, her expression cold and unimpressed. "It's just a door."
"You're impossible."
"I'm efficient."
Behind them, Maya stood motionless, her dark eyes fixed on the symbol. She studied every detail.
The Instructor's voice cut through the silence, smooth and unruffled. "Are you quite finished?"
She was watching them,
"Because if you're done admiring the decor, we have a schedule to keep. "
~~
Farhan stared at the symbol, his mouth slightly open. "That's... that's the most terrifying thing I've ever seen."
"Who designs something like that?" Faha whispered, his face pale.
Faha shook his head slowly, his voice carrying a note of disbelief. "The snake heads... they're emerging from the mouth. Like the darkness inside is spitting them out."
"Or like the skull is vomiting its own nightmares," Fahan added.
"Chains. Blood. A crown of thorns—"
"—and a ring of fire—"
"—and smoke—" Faha threw his hands in the air. "What does it all mean?!"
~~
The door slid open with a soft hiss. The room beyond was unlike anything they had ever seen.
It was vast—a sprawling space that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction.
The ceiling was lost in shadow, the walls lined with soft, ambient light that shifted and pulsed like a living thing.
At the center of the room stood five chairs ergonomic, their surfaces gleaming under the soft light.
But what truly caught their attention were the uniforms.
Five sets of uniforms hung on individual racks, arranged in a neat row. They were sleek, form-fitting, their surfaces a deep, matte black that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it.
Each one had a elegant symbol embroidered on the chest— the same symbol that marked the door they had just walked through.
The Ghosts of Hell.
The Instructor's voice cut through the silence.
"These are your new quarters. Each of you will have a private room—equipped with everything you need for the next phase of your training."
She gestured toward the uniforms. "You are no longer Code A subjects. You are now candidates for Nirvana B—the highest level of the program.
Your performance in the previous trial has earned you this privilege."
Subject 0014 let out a low whistle, his eyes fixed on the uniforms. "These look... expensive."
Subject 0011 stepped forward, his trembling fingers reaching out to touch the fabric of his uniform. It was impossibly soft—like silk but stronger.
He could feel the subtle hum of technology woven into its fibers. "This is... this is incredible. "
Subject 0002's lips curved into a cold smile. "Finally. Something that fits."
"You have proven yourselves. The Ghosts of Hell—a title earned by only one generation in the history of this program. Do not let it become hollow."
She turned, her hands clasping behind her back as she walked toward the door. "Your rooms are just beyond this chamber. You'll find everything you need there."
She paused at the threshold. "Your training begins at dawn."
[Click] The door slid shut behind her with a soft hiss.
Subject 0014 let out a low chuckle, his hand moving to the uniform that was clearly his—
the largest of the five. "I'm going to try this on. Then I'm going to find out what kind of food they have here."
"You're always thinking about food," Subject 0011 muttered.
"Someone has to."
Subject 0002 was already moving toward her uniform, her sharp fingers tracing the edge of the fabric. "There's technology woven into this uniform—sensors, monitors, maybe more."
"Of course there is," Subject 0004 said, his voice carrying a hint of weariness. "They never give us anything without a reason."
Subject 0011 remained silent, his eyes fixed on the uniform that was clearly his—the one marked with the symbol of the Ghosts of Hell.
Maya reached out, her fingers brushing against the fabric of her own uniform. It was soft. Almost impossibly soft.
But beneath that softness, she could feel it—the hum of something more. She looked at the others, her dark eyes sweeping across their faces.
"Get some rest, we've earned it."
Subject 0011 let out a shaky breath. "I don't think I can sleep. Not after everything that happened."
"Try anyway."
Subject 0014 let out a low chuckle, his broad shoulders sagging with exhaustion. "She's right. We should get some rest. Dawn comes early here."
One by one, they moved toward the doors that led to their individual rooms.
Subject 0011 hesitated at his door, his trembling fingers resting on the handle. He turned back, his eyes finding Maya's across the chamber.
Then he stepped through the door, and it slid shut behind him.
Subject 0004 was the last to leave. He paused at his door, his back still facing Maya. "0017A."
Maya looked up. "Yes?"
"Good night. " Then he stepped through the door, and it slid shut behind him.
Maya stood alone in the vast chamber, the soft light shifting around her like a living thing.
She looked down at her uniform—the fabric soft beneath her fingers, the symbol of the Ghosts of Hell gleaming faintly in the dim light.
Her fingers brushed against the symbol on her chest—the symbol that marked her as one of the Ghosts of Hell.
"A title earned by only one generation," she murmured.
She looked toward the door that led to her private room— a space that had been prepared just for her.
Then she walked toward it, her bare feet pressing softly against the polished floor.
The door slid open before her, revealing a room that was simple but comfortable—a bed, a desk, a wardrobe. A window that looked out onto a garden she had never seen before.
Maya stepped inside. The door slid shut behind her with a soft hiss.
For a long moment, she simply stood there, her bare feet pressed against the cool floor, her dark eyes sweeping across the space before her.
The room was small but it was neat. Almost… peaceful.
The walls were a soft, warm grey — not the cold, sterile white she had grown accustomed to in the lower levels.
The light came from a single panel embedded in the ceiling, its glow gentle and diffused, casting no harsh shadows.
Against the far wall stood a narrow bed. But the sheets were clean and they smelled faintly of lavender, a scent so unfamiliar that it made her pause.
Beside the bed, a small wooden desk sat against the wall and atop it rested a single item — a small, unmarked notebook, its pages blank, waiting.
Maya's fingers brushed against its cover. The paper was soft, almost fragile beneath her touch.
She had never been given anything like this before.
She let her hand fall away and turned her attention to the wardrobe standing against the opposite wall.
And when she opened it, she found three sets of the same black uniform, the one with the Ghosts of Hell symbol embroidered on the chest — hanging neatly inside.
Beneath them, a single pair of soft, black shoes rested on the floor. She closed the wardrobe.
She walked toward the bed, She sat down on the edge of the bed, her hands resting on her knees.
She let out a slow breath.
She lay back against the pillow, her dark eyes fixed on the ceiling above her. It was smooth, unbroken, the light diffused and gentle.
Her mind was racing—images of the forest, the blood on her hands, 0011's body crumpling to the ground. The Instructor's cold smile.
She had closed her eyes but sleep wouldn't come. Every time she tried to drift off, the faces appeared. The guard she had killed.
She sat up abruptly. Frustration boiled over inside her.
A hot, suffocating pressure that had nowhere to go. Without thinking, her fist slammed against the wall.
[THUD....THUD...THUD]
The sound echoed through the room, sharp and sudden, cutting through the oppressive silence.
For a moment, there was nothing. Just the hum of the facility, distant and indifferent.
Then, from somewhere beyond the wall, a voice drifted through—dry, irritated and achingly familiar.
The voice that had guided her through her first nights in this hell. The voice that had taught her how to survive.
"Are you seriously not going to let me die in peace tonight?"
Maya blinked. Her fist was still pressed against the wall, her knuckles white. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb your dying."
A long, weary sigh came from the other side. "What do you want, Subject Seventeen?"
Maya hesitated. Her fingers pressed against the cool wall, feeling the faint vibration of the other girl's presence.
"I've been wanting to ask you something for a long time."
"What?"
"How can you hear me?"
A pause. Then, flatly: "With my ears."
Maya's eye twitched. "No—I mean... I'm far away from you. I was promoted to Code Blue after finishing Code Red."
Silence. The kind of silence that wasn't empty— it was heavy, filled with something unspoken.
"Sixteen A?" Maya pressed, her voice rising slightly. "Are you still there?"
More silence. The hum of the facility seemed to grow louder as if mocking her.
Then, quietly: "I'm still here."
Maya's brow furrowed. "I never saw you in Code Red. Not once. Not in any training hall, any trial.
I never saw a girl with Subject code 0016 . Not once. Tell me the truth—what's your real code?"
A long pause. When the voice returned, it was quieter, carrying a weight that hadn't been there before. The playful sarcasm had faded, replaced by something raw and old.
"I'm Subject 0016 A."
Maya frowned. "But I never saw you in the training hall."
A soft, almost bitter laugh echoed through the wall.
"I'm not part of the regular program, 0017. I'm what they call a 'special subject.' One of the Extra Experiment subjects."
Maya's breath caught. The word 'Extra' hung in the air like a warning. She had heard whispers about Extra Experiments—
The kind that took children apart piece by piece, that pushed them beyond the limits of what the human body and mind could endure.
"Special, What does that mean by that?"
"It means my DNA was altered. The experiments—they were too extreme . My body stopped reacting the way a normal human body should."
"You mean... you don't look human?"
A sad, hollow laugh.
"I look human. From the outside, I look like anyone else. But inside I'm different. I have... you could call them superpowers."
Maya's heart pounded. She pressed her forehead against the wall as if she could somehow reach through the concrete and touch the other girl.
"Abilities?"
"I can hear through walls. Through the metal doors they seal me behind. I can hear you singing at night, even though you're three levels below me."
Maya's eyes widened. "That's... that's how you always knew I was there."
"Yes."
"What else can you do?"
"I can feel vibrations through the concrete. I know when they're angry, when they're afraid, when they're lying. I can't see them, but I can feel them."
A pause. "And I can see through the darkness."
"See through the darkness?"
"The experiments damaged my eyes. They don't work the way they used to. But in the darkness—complete, absolute darkness—I can see. "
Maya's throat tightened. "Where are you right now?"
"I'm in Level Seven."
Maya's blood ran cold. Level Seven. The restricted area, the place where subjects went and never returned.
"Level Seven," Maya repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "That's... that's the deepest level. The one they don't talk about."
"Yes."
"Why are you there?"