He had not resigned to fate yet. My cellmate and only companion, that is. I hear him now, scratching and scraping beneath his narrow bed, and will continue until whatever metal fragment he came across is not but shavings in the dense floor. He will never get through. I'm skeptical of what could potentially lie beyond these walls. Certainly, there is something...
I've been listening to the others, the ones in nearly uniform clothes and anatomy. I hear patterns in the sounds they make, each voice skillfully shaping thoughts into sounds. I haven't picked up much, but I hear them call me "Subjekt Num Brsevn" and my friend "Subjekt Num Brate". The experiences they inflict typically involve the title "test", preceded by another, likely more specific definition of that particular "test". I'm not sure what these mean exactly, but it does allow them to communicate quickly and without visual assistance.
I determined after the last test that it would be useful to learn these sounds and their meaning. Maybe, if I communicate with them, they will see me as an equal and let me explore the rest of this contained area. To do this, I'm now sitting with my back against the wall adjacent to the heavy white door, hoping to overhear more sounds.
Footsteps echo on the other side of the door but pass by without the owner uttering a single discernible tone. My body relaxes, and my mind is once again lost in thought. Soon, I drift off to sleep.
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Chapter One
Three Tests Later...
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Scrape... scrape... scrape...
Num Brate's dulled metal tool slid over the dry, dense ground yet again, waking me from a brief slumber. I know it was brief because I had not yet been awoken for the test. Usually, there are several voices outside right before tests, and one or two will talk to others like me; mentioning Subjekt Num Brsicks, Num Brfor. From what I can tell, Subjekt Num is a title that applies to everyone in a position similar to myself and Brate's. The following title must be more specific, which separates us individually.
Until recently, I had only barely noticed these patterns and thought they were only a primitive form of communication that wasn't really worth learning. The nature of these sounds changed as I was moved to various structures and placed with different people. Three tests ago, I began listening very closely to the phrases used to such a degree that the uniformly dressed people became irritated at my lack of attention, which resulted in them raising their voices to unpleasant volumes while repeating the same phrase. So, I've determined that certain volumes may change meanings of things, or reflect on its urgency.
I've also finally identified Jenroll, the only individual that I've seen who is addressed by only this one title. He dresses like the others but has more metal pieces on his clothing, which I'm almost certain are there to represent something. Although, they may just be decorations since they do look pleasing to the eye.
I'm gradually becoming more intrigued by the world around me. I wonder if all the uniformly dressed people went through this same thing to qualify for a higher position... perhaps that is what I'm supposed to do? I mean, the tests hurt a lot sometimes, but surely they exist for a reason... I wonder what that reason is?
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Seventeen Tests Later
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I understand them now... sometimes. There are Doktrs, Gards, and one other title I can't quite pronounce. It's Sien-test, which makes a bit of sense because they are usually present for our tests. Many of them say "home" in a way that sounds pleasant, but I don't know what it means yet.
"Sendhim en" came the now-familiar order, and one of the Gards pushed me into a solid white room where the next test would probably begin. However, I had already lost interest by the time the other was forced in--likely another Subjekt Num, and zoned out, letting my body take care of my actions while my mind watched the intent Sien-tests. Why do they watch so closely? Do they expect me to act differently?
The test was over before I had much time to figure things out, and I was quickly brought back to my designated container before they took Brate (who had recently stopped trying to escape, as his metal piece had worn through) off for a test.
Waiting for my companion to return, I decided to spend the time contemplating the actions of the people around me, and what they could signify.
A while passed, but Brate had still not been returned... which seemed odd.
I noticed, for the first time, where shadows came from. The brightest point in the room came from a small upside-down dome that projected from the ceiling, which flooded the room with light. I stood, then reached up towards the odd protrusion, noticing a few small metal pieces that seemed to fasten it in place. The light started there and moved outward... and while it can be blocked, I can't feel it... why?
I thought on this for quite some time without coming to any real conclusion before my door swung open, and Brate was returned... in terrible condition. His body was an assortment of odd colors, and he moved in a way that favored certain appendages over others. This look was familiar, but I don't understand why he would act differently because of it.
I reached out and brushed against a deep blue impurity on his arm, and he winced in response, clearly displeased with the gesture. This has never happened to me, but I have seen others look like this after they get hit very hard with something. Is Brate... damaged?
The Gards outside mumbled something about Num Brleven, then closed the door firmly.
Brate laid down for a while, breathing heavily as if exerting energy. I know something is wrong, but I'm not entirely sure what to do... maybe Brate knows.
Our interactions were primarily silent, and I wasn't certain how to communicate anything clearly yet. So, I just walked up next to him and stood for several long moments before simply saying "Brate". His eyes snapped open, and he immediately began looking around for a Gard or Sien-test but couldn't find one. I said "Brate" once again, turning his confused eyes towards me.
Now that I had his attention, I once again tapped the bluish spot on his upper arm, but he still only stared in confusion. I don't think he understands what I'm asking... or doesn't know how to convey a response, so I gave up. I walked over and sat next to the door, hoping to listen in on fragmented vocal interactions, and was ultimately disappointed.
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Three-hundred and Eighty Tests Later
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I need to get out.