I don't remember when they started taking me separately.
Maybe day twelve. Maybe fourteen.
The days blurred together anyway. White walls. Fluorescent lights. Blood on someone else's gloves.
The others went to the circle room. Images. Questions. Crying.
I got something else.
"Riley Voss. Private calibration."
The guards who came for me were bigger than the others. Silent. The kind that didn't need to threaten you because their faces already did.
I was scared.
I just never let them see it.
The private room was smaller. No chairs. No cameras.
Just the table.
Metal. Cold.
Dr. Marlow stood beside it with her tablet tucked against her chest.
"We're pushing further today, Riley."
She said that every time. Further.
Like there was still something left to break.
"Your scores are exceptional," she said. "We need to find your ceiling."
Ceiling.
I almost laughed at that.
I'd been cracked open years ago. Foster homes. Screaming through thin apartment walls. Learning real fast that nobody was coming to help you.
People like me didn't have ceilings.
Just fractures.
I let them strap me down.
The pain was worse alone.
When the others were there, the screaming distracted you. Reminded you this was happening to everyone.
Alone, the room felt too quiet.
"Increasing to level seven."
The shock hit before I could breathe.
My back lifted off the table. Every muscle locked up at once. My teeth slammed together hard enough to hurt.
Someone screamed.
Me.
"Continue," Marlow said calmly.
Level eight hit harder.
After that, everything turned white.
Sound blurred. My body jerked against the straps so hard the table rattled.
Then—
"V-fib detected."
My heart stopped.
I felt it.
One second it was there.
The next it wasn't.
Silence inside my chest.
Then pain exploded through me again and my body convulsed so hard I thought my spine snapped.
After that, nothing.
I woke up on the floor.
That confused me more than the pain did.
I wasn't supposed to be on the floor.
My arm wouldn't move. Not because it was restrained. It just… wouldn't.
"She's stabilizing."
Voices above me.
"Get her back to the dormitory."
Hands grabbed me. Lifted me.
For one horrible second, I thought about Rachel.
The way she looked after they broke her.
Loose. Empty.
I wondered if I looked the same.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on my bunk.
The lights overhead burned.
"Riley."
Sasha's voice.
"You awake?"
Barely.
She crouched beside the bed, her face tense.
"What did they do to you?"
I tried laughing. It came out as a cough.
Blood filled my mouth. Metallic. Warm.
"New levels," I whispered.
Her expression changed.
"How bad?"
I stared at the ceiling.
"My heart stopped."
Silence.
Then quieter:
"And they still kept going?"
I didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Later, when the room finally went quiet, Sasha looked at me from across her bunk.
"Why do you keep doing it?"
I thought about that.
About the table. The electricity. The feeling of my heart stopping and starting again.
"I don't know," I said finally.
That wasn't true.
I did know.
Because stopping felt like losing.
And losing scared me more than pain ever would.