I don't pass anyone in the hallways as I make my way through the stone tunnel.

Now, I don't think that this place s empty—as I walk, I can spot countless smaller tunnels branching off from the one I'm going through. But they're been blocked off by glass so darkly tinted that I can barely make out what's on the other side of them, so it's best to just ignore them for now.

I take a deep breath, trying to process everything that's happened in the past day. Or—has it been over a day? I have no clue how long I was knocked out for. Or how I was knocked out. Or why they bothered to knock me out.

There are too many unknowns here. Too many variables.

But it's okay, I tell myself repeatedly. I've done this before. And even though this may be the most high-stakes operation I've ever done, the basics are still the same. Infiltrate the organization. Build trust. Gain secrets. And when, finally, everyone's counting on me, betray them. 

I've got this. 

My wrist throbs where the security band used to be. I can't even remember when they first put it on me. I must've been a baby. It felt like a part of me—and maybe it was. Those slender needles were drilled all the way into bone. 

The hallway comes to an abrupt stop at a dead end. I frown and look the stone wall up and down. There's a small piece of paper taped to the centre of it. A little arrow pointing upwards, and underneath that, messy handwriting reads Press here!! 

The handwriting is sloppy and open, with wide loops and soft flourishes. Somehow I can tell that it's Ivory's. 

Reluctantly, I place my index finger just above the piece of paper. Something hums and whirs. I can feel the stone vibrating against the pad of my finger. I tense up, but don't pull away just yet. 

With a rough grinding sound like rocks being crushed, the section of wall splits down the middle. Each half slides smoothly aside, revealing a small and surprisingly cozy-looking room. 

There's a small bed pressed up against one wall, and a vanity against the other. The walls close back shut the moment I step into the room. There's a small closet built into the stone, which I open up curiously. It's filled with plain, utilitarian black clothes, each set identical, along with a couple pairs of pyjama pants and some T-shirts. 

A gray carpet coats the floor. There's some kind of crystal built into the rock ceiling, shedding soft yellow light over everything. I don't feel safe here. I definitely don't feel comfortable sleeping here. But... well, I am awfully tired.  

After scanning the room for cameras—there aren't any, or at least there aren't any obvious ones—I strip off my work clothes. I wrestle off my binder and toss it into the floor carelessly, then quickly change into the pyjamas. There's a small door in one corner of the room, and I'm guessing it leads to a bathroom, but I'd rather just sleep for now. 

I sit down on the bed and glance around the room reluctantly. There's no light switch or anything. I have no clue how to turn the lights off. 

I've never been able to fall asleep with a light on, but hopefully I can manage today. I slide in between the soft, cool sheets, pull the blankets up above my head, and squeeze my eyes shut. I'm anxious and stressed and jittery from the day's events. I'm in the heart of enemy territory, and I have no clue if there's any way of getting out. I'm completely cut off from everything I've ever known.

And yet, somehow, I'm able to drift into an unsteady slumber. 

Until I wake up hours later, body wracked with pain.