White ceiling. Too white. So sterile-white it hurt to look at, like staring at fresh snow under midday sun. Light stabbed my eyes, blurring contours, leaving only spots before my pupils. Smelled like dampness. Iron. Wet cold crawled under my skin. Straps dug into my wrists, too tight, too confident—as if I were a piece of meat, not a person. All this painfully reminded me of that laboratory where I once woke up.

  A door clicked somewhere to the right. Someone's footsteps echoed dully in the room, sending chills down my spine. I forced myself to breathe evenly, ignoring the pain in my chest.

  A woman appeared above me, tall, with an impassive face as if carved from marble. Hair pulled back in a tight ponytail so severely the skin at her temples stretched taut. She looked at me like I was some thing.

  "Test subject is conscious. Prepare him for transfer to Block C-7."

  Her voice sounded detached, like a child had lost a toy.

  Tried to move, but the straps only cut deeper into skin, damn restraints held tighter than steel shackles. The woman approached.

  "Can you hear me? Can you speak?"

  My voice came out a hoarse croak, as if I hadn't spoken in a week and my throat had turned to sandpaper.

  "Y... Yes..."

  She clicked her tongue in annoyance and nodded to someone beyond the door. Metallic rustling answered.

  "Wh... Where am I?"

  "Tell me what you remember. All memory should return with time."

  "I... I remember..."

  Memories crashed in ragged fragments, like frames from broken film: Alice's pale, almost translucent face, Elliot's desperate gaze breaking through dust and debris, the suffocating smell of smoke and metallic taste of blood on my tongue.

  "I remember the square. Alice unconscious. Elliot."

  Words scraped my throat. The woman leaned closer.

  "That's all?"

  I closed my eyes, and the picture grew sharper: the deafening roar of a wolf, its massive figure... Chaos around, flashes of magic. Elliot fighting beside me. Myself face to face with the monster, cold snow in my hand and a strange feeling like I was just a tool that had become unnecessary.

  A sharp jolt brought me back to reality. They tilted the bed, transferring me to a chair with straps. People in masks led me down a long corridor, its floor covered in dirt with a narrow sewer running down the center.

  Office doors rushed past me one after another. In one room—empty beds. In another—bloodstains. And then... faces. They looked at me: dead, alive, familiar. Alice, Elliot, Cassandra... and Selena.

  Selena was the most real of them all, though I understood—these were all inventions of my consciousness. Her hands reached forward, as if she wanted to say something, but was tied to a chair like me. The others just watched.

  My consciousness plunged into darkness again.

  When I opened my eyes, I was sitting in a small room. Cozy, almost like a living room: two sofas, coffee table, small window. But they were clearly watching through the mirrors on the walls. A camera blinked in the corner.

  The door clicked, and a man entered the room. His suit fit his figure perfectly. The smile looked friendly, but his eyes remained cold.

  "Luten Caers. Your condition is stable. Glad you've come to."

  "Who... Who are you? Where... Where am I?"

  The man leaned forward slightly.

  "You can call me Karl. You're in our hospital. I'm here to talk with you. Find out how you're feeling... and perhaps help."

  "Help? If you can call it that after the straps. And why did I see my friends in the corridor?"

  "Sometimes security measures are necessary. You must understand that after... hmm, certain events... No. This was a deliberate act of aggression on your part. Let's be precise, Luten. You're of particular interest to us. As for your friends... I think after prolonged sleep you might imagine things that aren't there."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "Interest to whom, this "us"?"

  His smile widened slightly—not touching his eyes—while he casually clicked a recorder button.

  "Tell me what happened at parliament."

  "What? What... what does it matter to you?"

  I gritted my teeth.

  He waited.

  Time froze, stretched like rubber. Clock ticking counted seconds. Paper rustling scraped nerves. The painting on the wall suddenly became irritating in its absurd brightness. He didn't ask again. Didn't rush or pressure. Because he didn't need to.

  I felt his eyes pressing me into the chair, heard his breathing—even, flawless. He wasn't nervous. He knew I'd break.

  I took a breath.

  "I don't remember."

  Karl studied me carefully, like a rare butterfly pinned to a display board, and nodded almost imperceptibly, as if confirming some guess of his.

  "You're very young, Luten. But it seems you've already experienced much. Let's cooperate, and then life will become much easier for both of us."

  "What difference does it make what you know or don't? Am I some lab rat for you?"

  "Lab... How curious..."

  Karl started writing something in his notebook. I didn't understand why my phrase interested him so much.

  "Do you happen to remember something... unusual?"

  He spoke too calmly, almost whispering. It unnerved me.

  "I... In dreams I saw something... Like I became a soldier and..."

  Dreams are always hard to remember if you don't speak them right after waking, I won't remember anything. That's what happened this time. I tried to find excuses for all his questions, and after an hour he decided to leave me alone.

  Karl tapped his pencil tip on the notebook, squinting.

  "Interesting... a soldier, you say? Do you often have such dreams?"

  I shrugged.

  "Don't know. Sometimes."

  He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming like a hunter sensing prey.

  "Let's try something else, Luten. You were on the parliament roof that day, correct?"

  My breathing faltered.

  "Why does that interest you?"

  "Oh, many things interest me. For instance, where did you get such powers? Why couldn't anyone who was near you give a clear explanation?"

  I looked away, but he continued:

  "What do you think happened there?"

  Memories flooded in: The destroyed building, animal remains. I didn't remember everything, but the screams after the collapsed building and mountain of dust were clearly imprinted in my head. Worries about Alice and my brother... Camelia...

  "I... don't remember."

  Karl slowly tilted his head.

  "Don't remember or don't want to remember?"

  His voice resembled a thin knife cutting air.

  "Maybe you should try? Close your eyes and reconstruct details. For example, who was with you on the roof?"

  I clenched my fists.

  "I already said I don't remember."

  Karl sighed but didn't look disappointed. Rather, satisfied.

  "Well, memory is a complicated thing. Sometimes it returns in the most unexpected places. I hope by that moment you'll be ready."

  He closed his notebook and stood, this time clearly intending to leave.

  "We'll talk again, Luten. Oh, and yes, they'll bring you dinner soon."

  The door closed behind him with a quiet click. The room immediately became so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat and the breathing of invisible observers behind the mirrors.

  I felt someone's gaze on me, not those hidden behind the mirrors. Something unusual seemed to be drilling a hole in me and trying to look straight into my soul.

  I lay on the sofa and closed my eyes. The door creaking made me rise—probably dinner arrived.

  The door slammed shut. Nobody.

  I slowly stood and checked the lock. Locked. The mirrors reflected only my figure, but every hair on my neck stood on end.

  I tried to use magic—at least some glimmer, at least something. Fingers trembled, but nothing happened. Empty.

  Fabric rustled behind me. I spun around sharply—nobody.

  "Show yourself!"

  Silence pressed on my ears. I took a step toward the center of the room when hot breath touched my cheek.

  I jerked back, but it was too late.

  A face.

  An inch from mine.

  Pale as a drowned woman's, with wide-open eyes the color of crimson blood. Unnaturally bright, as if lit from within.

  Lips twitched in a convulsive, unnatural semblance of a smile.

  She looked straight at me.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "S... S... Selena?"

  I recoiled, feeling goosebumps run down my spine.

  "Who?"

  "Selena, it's you, right? What are you doing here?"

  Same silver hair, same facial features. Everything about the girl right in front of my face gave away that very princess. Though... The eyes...

  "Me? Selena?"

  She laughed softly and stepped away from me.

  "That's not my name... But you still haven't answered. What are you doing here?"

  "What am I doing here? I don't know, they won't let me go."

  "I see. I'm here..."

  The door handle turned again and a woman entered with a tray. On it stood a glass of water and some food unknown to me. While I came to my senses and looked again where Selena had just stood, but she'd vanished without a trace.

  "Did you see a girl here? Where did she go?"

  "A girl? It's just us here. Please start your meal while it's hot."

  Everyone here is suspiciously kind. They won't let me go, but they're not torturing me either. Though who knows what happened to me while I was unconscious. The biggest problem is I can't feel my powers. I couldn't use magic to calm myself. That's alarming.