The second day of the trial was the first day we closed the factory.
As expected, nothing happened.
No Claim.
No Null.
No new developments.
On the fourth and fifth days of the trial, we closed the factory again.
Again, nothing happened.
No one came to claim the place.
No one broke in.
And just like that, the first week of the trial ended.
Really simple.
If The Claim's scout was still among us, I would've expected them to make a move on one of the closed days. That would've been the perfect chance. No crowds. No constant lookouts. No founders camped out in every corner.
But nothing happened.
So either the scout wasn't there anymore and The Claim didn't know what to do without them...
Or we were right.
Maybe this really was never only about the factory.
Because the reduced-activity trial was working, the members of Factory 24 started looking lighter.
Less tense.
Less grim.
Like a storm had passed.
The whistles were still there.
The weapons were still there.
The flags were still there.
But no one clung to them as tightly anymore.
The factory went right back to being half base, half hangout spot.
They started playing games again.
Talking normally again.
Watching movies.
Playing basketball.
Doing the things they wanted to do in the first place, before all of this spiraled.
It was strange seeing that happen so quickly.
One week ago, everybody looked like they were preparing for a siege that would decide their lives.
Now they looked almost normal again.
Not fully.
Not innocent.
But close enough that, if someone from outside walked in, they might just think it was a bunch of kids hanging around in an abandoned building.
I noticed all of it.
And more than that, I noticed everyone else was recovering much faster than I was.
Even Mel.
She still stuck close to me for most of the day, but now she would sometimes drift off on her own to talk to other people. Sit with a group. Watch a movie. Help with something small. Every time she did, it was like proof that other people knew how to heal.
Or at least how to pretend they were healing.
While everyone else was loosening up, I was still stuck in my own head.
During the peace of the last couple weeks, I've been recapping everything that's happened over the summer.
Factory 24.
The stroke.
The memory.
The Claim.
The leadership change.
The attack.
The torture.
Null.
It all feels connected somehow.
I know it.
I just don't know how, or why.
Especially the memory.
That part still bothers me more than anything.
I got a semi-complete memory of my past life and used it to try to keep Factory 24 safe.
And yet, in the end, it didn't actually help me in the least.
I couldn't predict a single thing that really happened.
I couldn't stop the attack.
I couldn't stop John and Alex from getting tortured.
I couldn't stop myself from becoming the Monarch of 24.
So what was the point?
Why did I have a stroke?
Was it just to make room for that memory?
Then why did I even get the memory in the first place?
Why did it come back then?
What purpose did it serve?
My breakdown?
Why can't I remember anything else about my past life?
Why was I even reincarnated?
Was it random?
Was it punishment?
Was it some chance to correct something?
Because right now, nothing feels corrected.
If anything, I wouldn't be surprised if it was worse than before.
I know my previous self banned high schoolers way before the current events, which means maybe he really did stop everything altogether.
Or maybe he just made things worse in a different way.
I don't know.
That's the problem.
I have so many questions about my life and no answers for any of them.
It even seems like I knew more about my past life when I was first born.
As I grew up, those memories faded away.
And now they've only come back randomly.
That feels backwards.
Shouldn't I be remembering more as I get older, not less?
Unless whatever gave me those memories doesn't want me to know everything at once.
Unless it wants me confused.
And then there's my goal.
That bothers me too.
I've realized just how much Factory 24 took over my mind.
I haven't worked toward my real goal at all since I first heard about The Claim.
At first, my goal was to be better than my past life.
Then, once I realized I barely remembered that life at all, I changed the goal.
I stopped comparing myself to someone I couldn't even fully remember.
Instead, I made the goal simpler.
Be the best version of my current self.
Live the best life I can now.
That was supposed to be it.
That was supposed to guide everything I did.
But the second I had that stroke, I abandoned it.
I started obsessing over the memory.
Obsessing over what I might've been before.
Obsessing over whether I was repeating things, changing things, ruining things.
I started trying to be better than my past again.
And in the end, I couldn't do anything.
I haven't been better in any scenario.
And that realization bothers me more than I expected it to.
Because there were so many points in my life where I could've been better.
Hell, there were so many points just this summer where I could've been better.
I could've told the founders earlier that something felt wrong instead of bottling it all up.
I could've trusted Leo sooner instead of trying to carry everything myself.
I could've explained more to Melanie instead of just pushing her away.
I could've stayed calmer when Liam first confronted me.
I could've avoided acting so suspicious around everyone at the factory.
I could've taken Andrew more seriously earlier instead of assuming the threat was manageable.
I could've tried to understand George instead of just shutting him down.
I could've done more to protect Mel before Josh crossed the line.
I could've fought back after the attack instead of freezing in shock.
I could've kept using strategy instead of spiraling into pure reaction.
And there were smaller things too.
I could've slept more instead of pacing around like that would solve anything.
I could've spent less time watching everyone else and more time asking what I was turning into.
I could've remembered that being "in control" and being "better" are not the same thing.
I could've been honest with myself sooner.
That's what really gets me.
Through all of this, I let my emotions get ahead of me.
Fear.
Anger.
Panic.
Control.
Those emotions started driving me more than my actual values did.
I also stopped being self-aware somewhere in the middle of all this.
At first, I was watching myself carefully.
Making sure I didn't become the cold person from my memory.
Making sure I didn't become a dictator.
Making sure I didn't become someone who led through fear.
But somewhere along the line, I got so focused on outside threats that I stopped checking on myself too.
I stopped being observant.
Not of other people.
Of myself.
That's the difference.
I was so absorbed in everyone else's movements, routines, and motives that I stopped looking inward.
I noticed every little change in other people.
But I barely noticed what was happening to me.
I also stopped using strategy.
After the attack, I let Sarah handle everything.
Like she could solve everything.
Like all I had to do was make sure the factory didn't get destroyed.
That's not strategy.
That's surrendering your role and pretending you're still in control.
I could've fought back without her help.
Maybe not physically.
But mentally.
I could've steadied myself.
I could've controlled my thoughts.
I could've started thinking again instead of just reacting.
But instead, shock got me.
And I'm ashamed of that.
I could've been better.
But I wasn't.
Still, I think I finally understand something important now.
The next phase of this conflict won't be won by whoever is stronger.
It'll be won by whoever can stay composed long enough to think.
Probably.
Anything could happen.
But that feels like the most likely answer.
Strength matters.
Numbers matter.
Timing matters.
But none of it matters if the people using it lose themselves halfway through.
That's what happened to me.
And I won't let it happen again.
Easier said than done, obviously.
But I'll do it.
I'll think.
I'll adapt.
I'll stay aware of everything.
Not just of everyone else.
Of myself too.
This trial period hasn't just tested the factory.
It's tested me.
And if I really want to become the best version of myself, then surviving what comes next isn't enough.
I need to do more than survive.
I need to thrive.
I need to win.
I need to stay myself.