Adrian woke to grey. It was always grey. The moment his eyes opened, the smooth, sterile ceiling came into view—reflecting pale white lights embedded within it. The lights felt startlingly bright, pressing against his vision like a serpent coiling around its prey—tight enough to terrify, not enough to kill.
Silence greeted him.
Adrian lay still, waiting for something… someone. He didn't know who or why, only that his body refused to move. His eyes only perceived the metal-grey ceiling with lights embossed into it. The edges of his vision darkened like ink spreading across parchment. He fought to keep his eyes open, afraid that if sleep claimed him again, something worse would follow.
With sheer will, Adrian commanded his limbs to submit; he disliked the loss of control over his own body. His fingers twitched slightly before he was able to move his arm completely, and at last he heaved his body upright.
His head swam as vertigo hit him hard, his body felt foreign—as if made of lead. Thoughts ran rampant around his mind, fragments of vision that he didn't quite remember but instinctively felt familiar. His head was about to hit the pillow back due to the throes of pain, but he managed to keep himself upright, head in his hands, as he struggled to keep the piercing headache at bay.
Adrian dug his fingertips into his scalp as he snapped open his eyes. He was in a room, but not alone. Around him, rows of identical beds—resembling hospital cots—stretched across the room. Teenagers like him, no older than fifteen, occupied the beds, but they all lay unconscious, sleeping. He counted seventeen of them.
The room was spacious, with colossal matte grey walls and a single black translucent window in front of the bedding. There was nothing inside except beds and their occupants.
This room felt like a container… no, worse.
A cage.
An infusion stand accompanied each cot, with drips hanging from it, carrying a brownish, viscous liquid attached to the wrists of every person, flowing into their veins.
What is this? Adrian wondered, looking down at his own wrist bound to a tube. That was the first coherent thought that had struck him since his waking. His mind blanked momentarily afterwards, and then many questions popped up at once, one after another. What is this place? Where is he? Who is he? What was his name? His mind echoed back—Adrian. This was the only useful thing that his brain was able to muster.
Other than that, his mind felt like a blank slate, mirroring that of a newborn baby, except only unanswered questions remained, new ones arising, mingling with the others. He tried to remember anything beyond his waking and the moments till now, but his brain came up with naught. Panic clawed at his nerves. The emptiness in his mind felt unnatural, as though someone had stolen his memories or locked them behind an impenetrable wall. No matter how hard he racked his brain in search of his lost recollection, it would be pointless.
Slowly, the surrounding youths began to stir. One by one, they sat up—the task proved gruelling for them—rubbing their eyes, confusion etched across their faces. The lighting seemed brighter now that everyone was awake. He could see their faces clearly. He could tell by their expressions that they were going through the same pain, panic, and dilemma he had gone through on waking up.
A boy spoke up, his voice hoarse from disuse and dehydration, "Where are we?"
No one replied; another boy shrugged, giving him a tacit answer. They were all clueless.
This time, a girl said, "What is this?" as she pointed to the IV stand. Somebody answered, "I think it's called a drip. I don't know how I know; my memory is just messed up. I can't seem to remember anything." Adrian could relate; he knew what the boy was talking about. He seemed to know what things were, but he had forgotten his past—everything that made him who he was.
"Should we take it off?" Another girl inquired, "It just feels uncomfortable; we have no idea what this strange liquid is."
A blonde boy with startling violet eyes on Adrian's right answered, "Too late now. Most of it's already inside us. And I don't think we should handle it carelessly and end up injured."
The boy had a point. Others seemed to agree with him, too. Adrian found the violet strangely captivating and quickly looked away when he realised Eden was raising an eyebrow at him, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. He also noticed that most of the people here were very mature. It might be the strange fluid flowing in their system, or their abductors might have done something to their bodies while they were unconscious. He still couldn't figure it out.
"I am Eden, by the way." The same boy added. Thus began the series of introductions, or more like everyone uttering their name. Some took a long time to remember their names, some refused to speak, while others looked withdrawn, but at last everyone had said their name out loud. However, after some time, Adrian noticed that they were all staring at someone beside his bed, expectantly. Turning around, Adrian's eyes locked onto a green-haired girl who appeared to be fixated on something in the corner of the room, mumbling unintelligible words under her breath. Her grey eyes were wide and unblinking. Not curious. Not fearful.
Terrified.
Even with others calling her, she gave no response.
She seemed unfocused, almost in a trance. And on top of her weirdness, her appearance stuck out like a sore thumb. For a moment, he found himself staring at her green hair as if transfixed. He liked the feeling of this colour on his eyes, but instantly snapped out of his daze. She didn't seem aware of the others in the room, as though trapped somewhere far beyond it.
Everyone exchanged uneasy glances and then looked at Adrian. A girl—Elise—on the left of the green-haired girl spoke, "Adrian, why don't you talk to her?"
Hesitant at first, but Adrian eventually complied partly because of their googly eyes and partly because of his own curiosity.
He lamely started by saying, "Hey!" To which he obviously got no response. He moved his numb and aching body closer to her cot to hear her words more clearly. But only incoherent syllables left her lips. It sounded as if she were speaking an entirely different language, which Adrian did not know. He hesitated, but tried again, "Hey… Are you okay?
No response.
Nothing.
He leaned slightly closer.
"Do you feel drowsy?"
Instead of a reply, she turned her head slowly.
Her eyes locked onto his.
Adrian stiffened.
There was no recognition in them. No reaction. Only a hollow, distant stare that made something cold settle beneath his ribs.
He waved a hand in front of her face.
No blink.
No flinch.
Nothing.
A strange unease crawled up his spine.
Weird…
He turned away, unsettled, forcing himself to look elsewhere, and then, addressing the expectant spectators, he dropped the news.
"I am sorry, guys. She isn't responding to me." Then, quickly yet reluctantly added, "I guess there's something wrong with her. Maybe she is not in her right mind."
He thought his explanation would suffice. But the only looks he got were wide eyes and mouths agape. They didn't appear shocked—only terrified, as though waiting for someone else to confirm that there was truly something wrong with the girl. They didn't want to admit it aloud, and Adrian had done just that by confirming the obvious. Eden spoke up at the vulnerable moment, saving Adrian from the uneasy topic.
"I think she is taking time to recover and adjust to her surroundings, just like we all had, but a bit longer." His eyes crinkled at the edges, and his lips stretched into a smile, but the coldness in his eyes didn't thaw. With this supposedly reassuring smile, he added, "We should give her space. She would be alright. Right, Adrian?"
Adrian nodded at that. After all, what else could he say? However, one question kept nudging at his brain and instead of pondering, he voiced it out;
"We have no idea where we are, nor do we have any memory. Shouldn't we get up and search around for a clue? Why are we waiting, and for whom? Did we get kidnapped? We have no idea…"
He trailed off mid-blabbering when he saw some of the children had horrified expressions. He was just being logical. Tyler—a guy with inky black hair with a white patch on the side—exclaimed, "He makes sense, I am with him on this." Then he added with even more enthusiasm, "Why wait for our abductors? Let's escape! This idea sounds entertaining, doesn't it?"
Adrian chuckled at it, amused, but most of the others didn't seem to share the same sentiment. He found his hair unique and his personality peculiar yet entertaining. This could cheer them up in this enigmatic and scary atmosphere.
"Adriaaannn! I will start looking through from this side, and you start over from yours." Tyler instructed-screamed.
He tried to stand up from his bed, but couldn't. His endeavour to get out of bed was proving to be very difficult.
A very big guy, Enoch, who looked nowhere near fifteen, with his hands clasped in front of him as if in a prayer, said in a deep, monotone voice, "All that bravado for you to not even have working legs. You didn't forget that you were a cripple, did you?" Then added with an overly melodramatic tone, "May god guide you towards wisdom. The absence of working brain cells might be limited due to all the effort being put into your scratchy voice. But worry not, the Lord will indeed rid you of this brain-deadness if you sincerely pray and supplicate."
"Shut up! You peace prophet. No one asked for your freakish advice." Tyler yelled furiously. Then, under his breath, he murmured,
"What a buzz kill!"
Adrian witnessed this exchange with laughter. It had certainly lightened the mood.
Following Tyler's lead, Adrian found it difficult to get up. It was as if something was pulling him downwards. The harder he pushed himself up, the harder the pull became. Tyler, too, was facing the same problem.
Eden watched their struggle quietly and tried to get up as well, but failed. Several others joined, and they too couldn't get up.
Zade—a spectacled guy—claimed in a matter-of-fact tone,
"I think these beds are designed to keep us here. It would be pointless to try it further. The harder you try to get up, the harder the bed pulls you down."
This was a valid enough explanation. But Adrian didn't like the feeling of being caged in; he wanted to be freed from this weird bed. But it seemed pointless; no matter how hard he tried, the bed pulled him closer and closer.
Minutes later, he settled back into his cot and closed his eyes to think of a way to escape. Other kids looked torn, some on the verge of breakdown. Tyler was still trying, screaming profanities. Then he heard some mumbling; it was the green-haired girl who had not participated in the joint struggle. Her whispering had gotten considerably louder. He edged closer to her to distinguish her words better.
Broken, incoherent words slipped from her lips. He caught fragments:
"Jumble… crumble… needles… discard… success…"
Then, without warning, she began thrashing violently and let out a bloodcurdling scream that froze Adrian's entire body.
Every child in the room fell silent, staring at her with wide, horrified eyes.
If they weren't terrified before, they were now.
Before anyone could react, a smooth mechanical sound cut through the silence.
The wall on the front—seamless until now—slid apart from the right side.
A man—taller than the tallest person Adrian had ever seen—stepped inside, covered in a black bodysuit with glowing blue lines stretching across it. At its centre was a single pyramid with an eye-like emblem. Nothing of his body was visible beneath the suit, only his form suggesting he was male.
Two more figures followed—equally massive, standing silently at his sides.
The room fell deathly silent.
Everyone held their breath.
Compared to the towering figures, the youths looked like ants before giants. Their frightening, hulking presence petrified him. They had lost their memories, yet instinct screamed that something was horribly wrong.
These things weren't human.
Then a voice spoke—cold, robotic, and echoing:
"Welcome to your new home, subjects. Today marks the beginning of a new life for you. Forget how you lived before—most of you already have. From today onwards, you will not be called by your name. Your identity will be classified according to your status. Those who strive and show results will live with ease. Those who are useless will face a fate worse than slaughtered cattle."
Adrian didn't understand most of it. But he understood enough to feel something tighten in his chest.
Fear.
Confusion spread like wildfire. The teens reacted instantly. Some cried. Some froze. The green-haired girl screamed again.
But the three men did not move. Not even slightly.
The monotone voice continued calmly:
"Diamonds in the rough, you are not permitted to move or wander without permission. We will now begin the Testing Procedure—"
A girl with brunette hair interrupted sharply:
"Who are you? Why should we listen to you?"
The man paused briefly, then replied:
"Good question. Who are we? We are your masters. As stated before, forget your previous lives. From now on, we control your lives. Do not question our authority."
After a pause, almost to himself, he added:
"This is the first batch with so many talkers. Most of them usually come brainless."
Adrian didn't fully understand what that meant.
But instinct warned him that it was bad.
Very bad.
One day, he would learn just how terrible those words truly were.