Subdue-X

Trial, Errors & Logic

I sat up sharply, the familiar disorientation wrapping around my head like a tight band. My vision swam, but I forced myself to stay upright. Christian was gone, he must've slipped away after I had fallen asleep. But something was off. Hushed commotion echoed through the hallway, hurried footsteps passing by my room, and low murmurs filtering through the walls. I blinked, trying to focus on the sound.

I pulled back the rack of curtains just enough to peer through the glass walls. Empty. No one was in sight, but I knew they were just out of view. My heart started to race, the rhythmic beeping of the monitor a constant reminder that I wasn't supposed to be up, wasn't supposed to be moving. Yet here I was, blood pounding in my ears, curiosity outweighing logic.

Through the opened door, the lights in the hallway glowed a soft, unsettling blue, dimmed for my benefit. They always did that. Low light, fewer stimuli. It made sleep a little easier, but right now, it felt like an ominous warning.

I leaned forward, squinting down the hall. At the end, there was a room-bright, painfully so-and people were filtering into it, one by one. Their faces were grim, focused, as if something urgent needed to be discussed. A flicker of unease twisted in my stomach.

It's none of my business. I tried to shake the thought from my head. I didn't need to know what they were talking about. I was supposed to rest, to recover, not meddle in whatever dark conversation they were having. But as soon as I tried to pull back, the voices from down the hall became softer, more deliberate. I couldn't make out the words, but the tone was unmistakable. Tense. Dire.

I couldn't help myself.

Glancing at the monitor, I hesitated. No turning back once I do this. My fingers hovered over the power button before I clicked it off. The machine let out a faint hum as it shut down, the room growing eerily silent. My heart stuttered in my chest, as if it was waiting for something bad to happen. Nothing did. I peeled the electrode stickers from my skin one by one, wincing at the sting but grateful the noise didn't attract attention.

With a shaky breath, I slid off the bed, my feet barely steady beneath me. The cold cement was a shock, a reminder of how fragile I was. Keeping my shoulder pressed to the wall, I moved slowly, each step measured, careful. My body felt heavy, uncooperative, but I pushed through, adrenaline sharpening my focus. The closer I got to that room, the clearer the voices became, and the more my chest tightened with anticipation.

I stopped just before the open doorway, pressing my back against the cool wall, and strained to listen. Pin's voice cut through the murmur like a blade.

"It's more complicated than that," he said, his tone deep, dismissive. "Rerunning the program could cause catastrophic damage-"

"-or an astronomical breakthrough," someone interrupted, almost too eager.

"Don't sound so confident," Pin shot back, his words dripping with disdain.

I felt my blood run cold. Rerun the program. My body went rigid, when would that be, tomorrow? Tonight? Two hours from now?

The tension inside that room was palpable, spilling out into the hallway, wrapping around me like a noose. My feet were growing numb, but I wasn't backing out now. I needed to hear this.

"Whether it's possible or not-" a new voice began, but a sudden flash of light behind my eyes made me wince.

"HEY!" someone shouted, sharp and close, but when I looked around, no one was there. The hall was empty. No one was behind me. I clamped a hand over my mouth, biting back a yelp. My heart slammed against my ribs, my pulse thundering in my ears. The room was silent again, the conversation inside continuing as if nothing had happened. It was just another hallucination.