When the children woke up, they didn't pay any attention to the fact that they were lying in their own beds. It felt natural… as if it was supposed to be that way.
Even though just yesterday they had fallen asleep somewhere else.
Even though just yesterday they had felt тревожные.
But now… there was no тревога.
Not even a trace.
Their thoughts were soft, viscous, like warm wax slowly spreading inside their heads.
As soon as Vlad opened his eyes, he calmly sat up, took the glass of juice standing nearby, and quickly drank it to the bottom. The sweet taste lingered on his tongue, as if sealing this strange calm inside him.
He wiped his mouth with his hand, got dressed without haste, carefully adjusted his clothes… and put on the wreath.
The wreath fit perfectly.
As if it had always belonged to him.
As if he had never taken it off.
Vlad left the room and headed to the dining hall.
His steps were even.
Calm.
Light.
When he entered, he immediately noticed Elizabeth.
She was wearing a wreath too.
And it looked just as natural on her.
Just as… right.
Their eyes met.
For a moment.
Something inside seemed to tremble.
But immediately… it faded.
They didn't approach each other.
Didn't speak.
Didn't sit together.
And that also felt right.
Everything about this day was… right.
And that's exactly why it felt strange.
Today, no one fought.
No shouting.
No arguments.
No pushing.
The children ate calmly, neatly, almost synchronously raising their spoons, almost at the same time taking sips.
As if an invisible rhythm controlled them.
As if they were listening to the same quiet melody… that no one could hear.
When breakfast ended, the counselors approached the spoiled children.
— Come with us, — they said calmly. — We need to talk.
The children stood up.
Without questions.
Without resistance.
And followed them.
---
The office was quiet.
The silence here was denser than anywhere else.
As if sound simply couldn't reach this place.
In the center of the room sat a man.
He didn't move.
But there was a feeling… of presence coming from him.
Strong.
Heavy.
Blue eyes — cold, like ice beneath deep water. Black hair — thick as the night itself. A hat cast a faint shadow over his face. In his hand — a cane decorated with tiny flowers: tulips, roses, violets, poppies.
Bright.
But somehow… muted.
As if even the colors here obeyed him.
His clothes were entirely black.
A monocle over one eye.
He slowly turned.
And smiled.
The smile was calm.
Too calm.
It made you want to… fall silent.
— You drew this map, didn't you?.. — he asked.
His voice was soft.
But there was something viscous in it.
Heavy.
As if every word settled inside you.
The children nodded.
Almost at the same time.
Almost identically.
— Don't be afraid… — he tilted his head slightly. — I just want to understand…
A pause.
He looked at them.
For a long time.
Without looking away.
— Why did you draw it?..
— To escape… — Egor said.
The voice sounded quiet.
As if unsure.
— Escape… — the man repeated.
He stood up.
Slowly.
And took a step forward.
— Why?..
The silence deepened.
As if pressing down.
— Why leave… if it's good here?..
The words spread.
Seeped in.
Settled.
The children were silent.
Their thoughts tangled.
Slowed.
— It's… good here… — Vlad said, as if choosing his words. — But… we don't want to live here…
The man stepped closer.
Too close.
— Why?..
A whisper.
Almost at his ear.
— Out there… beyond the camp… you will have freedom…
A pause.
— But along with it…
— Pain…
— Fear…
— Loneliness…
Each word fell heavily.
Like drops.
— And here…
He smiled.
Wider.
Deeper.
— Here you have everything…
— Freedom…
— Happiness…
— Peace…
— Care…
— Silence…
— You are understood…
— You are guided…
— You don't need to think…
The voices inside the children began to fade.
One by one.
— Isn't that better?..
Their lips trembled.
— Yes…
— Better…
Their voices became empty.
Smooth.
Without resistance.
Their eyes slowly spiraled.
As if someone was carefully… rewriting their reflection of the world.
As if their previous thoughts were being erased.
Gently.
Softly.
Without pain.
When they left the office, they were told:
— If you want… you can continue drawing the plan.
But now the word "escape" felt strange.
Foreign.
Almost ridiculous.
---
Vlad caught up with Elizabeth.
For a while, they walked in silence.
— Do you like the wreath?.. — she asked quietly.
— Yes… — he nodded. — Very much… It's beautiful… It suits you… and me…
— I think so too… — she smiled.
Her voice had become softer.
Calmer.
— I was reading all night… finished the book… Let's choose a new one?..
— Let's…
They almost simultaneously quickened their pace.
Then they started running.
Lightly.
Without effort.
The library was quiet.
Too quiet.
The books stood neatly.
Perfectly.
As if no one had ever touched them.
They took the first one they saw.
"White Nights."
They sat next to each other.
And began to read.
The pages turned slowly.
Evenly.
The words seemed to absorb themselves.
Without effort.
Without distraction.
Time stretched.
Flowed.
And disappeared.
When they finished, Vlad took out a notebook.
— Let's write it down… — he said.
— Let's…
They wrote:
what they liked, what they didn't, what was sad, what was joyful…
But even their emotions were even.
Smoothed out.
As if someone had… filtered them.
Matilda entered.
And didn't even have time to say anything.
— Can we have juice and tea? — the children asked at the same time.
She smiled.
Calmly.
As if she expected it.
---
Then everything flowed smoothly.
Music.
Headphones.
Voices.
Conversations.
Instruments.
Violin.
Piano.
The sounds became deeper.
Denser.
They penetrated inside.
Wrapped around them.
Whispered:
stay… don't resist… it's safe here… this is right…
The children's eyes became spiral again.
Slowly.
Smoothly.
Even those who played the music… succumbed to it.
When it ended, there was a feeling of emptiness.
And a desire… to return to that state.
Again.
And again.
---
In the evening, the music began again.
Quiet.
Unnoticeable.
But everywhere.
It slid along the walls.
Through the air.
Through thoughts.
The children lay in their beds.
Closed their eyes.
And immediately… sank.
Deep.
To where there is no anxiety.
No doubt.
No resistance.
Only a soft, endless calm.
And a quiet voice…
that continued speaking even in their sleep.