Silence stretched between them..It did not feel empty. It felt like something sharp being drawn slowly across skin.

  Brian held Maxwell’s gaze without blinking. Theo stood half a step behind him, pulse pounding in his ears.

  “Survival has been personal since we arrived,” Brian said finally. His voice was steady. Too steady. “If they need to get hurt so I could survive, then I will gladly do it.”

  Theo felt the words settle into the room like smoke.

  Maxwell did not react immediately. He studied Brian’s face for cracks. For doubt. For flickers of guilt.

  He found none. At least none that showed. Maxwell nodded once. “Go,” he said. “When the time is right, you will prove your worth.”

  He stepped back toward his bed, reclaiming the space like a throne. “For now, remain with your friends and pretend you are still on their side.”

  The instruction was simple. It carried weight.

  Brian lowered his head slightly. Theo followed..They turned and walked out of the room without another word.

  The corridor felt colder now. Theo exhaled only when they were out of sight..“You meant that?” he asked under his breath.

  Brian did not look at him. “I meant surviving.”

  That day, a system notification summoned them to class. They filed into a large room with smooth metal walls and no windows. Rows of seats faced a glowing blue screen that pulsed faintly, waiting.

  They sat. No one spoke loudly anymore. The door slid open..A robot entered. In its metal grip was a human skeleton.

  Real.

  Yellowed bone held together by wire and thin rods. The skull tilted slightly to one side as it was placed upright before them.

  The room went still.

  “Today,” the robot announced, its voice flat and precise, “we would be knowing the parts of the human body. The strength of each part and the weaknesses.”

  The skeleton stood facing them..Empty eye sockets staring.

  The robot lifted a metal pointer..It tapped the ribcage lightly..The hollow sound echoed..It pointed to the center of the chest.

  “Here,” it said, “is where the heart is located. A single blade strike to this area will eliminate the target completely.”

  A few students inhaled sharply.

  Newton’s fingers tightened around the edge of his seat.

  The robot moved upward. It tapped the side of the neck..“A precise strike to the carotid artery results in rapid blood loss.”

  It shifted behind the skeleton. The pointer traced the spine. “If you punch so hard here,” it said, pressing against the lower cervical region, “it will break and your target becomes incapacitated.”

  The word target did not feel like a metaphor. It continued. Shoulder joints. Knees. Temples. Solar plexus.

  Each explanation was clear. Clinical. Detached.

  “This area,” it said, tapping the lower ribs, “is vulnerable to blunt force. A strike will impair breathing.”

  The students did not laugh. They did not whisper. They watched. Newton leaned forward slightly, eyes fixed.

  “This is like biology,” he murmured to himself. His mind reached back to classrooms with chalkboards. To diagrams drawn carefully by teachers who spoke about systems, not destruction.

  “I have always loved biology.” Now it was being taught differently.

  Not for healing. For efficiency. For damage.

  The skeleton’s jaw rattled faintly when the robot adjusted it. Bone against metal.

  After an hour, the robot lifted the skeleton again and carried it out.

  The blue screen dimmed. The class ended. Chairs scraped softly as they stood.

  They moved toward the restaurant in slow clusters.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  Newton and the others who had come with him gathered around a long table as usual. No one had to suggest it. They simply did.

  Trays were set down. Food was eaten in silence.

  Then the doors opened. The change in atmosphere was immediate.

  Maxwell entered..He was flanked on both sides by boys and girls dressed in black. Their posture was rigid. Their eyes forward.

  The entire restaurant stood as one..Chairs slid back..Heads bowed. “Your majesty, long may you reign.”

  The words rolled through the room in unison..Newton’s legs trembled under the table. Every muscle in him screamed to stand.

  To bow.

  To avoid what was coming..But he remained seated..His hands were flat on the table. Stella sat across from him.

  Her eyes were fixed on Maxwell. Unmoving. Samuel stared at his tray. Theo and Brian sat beside Maxwell’s followers.

  They rose with the others..Their heads bowed.

  Newton noticed. Just barely.

  Maxwell’s gaze swept the room. It paused, and rested on Newton’s table.

  On the few who remained seated..A slow smile curved his lips..“A day,” he said calmly. “A day is what you all have left to either bow or die off.”

  His tone was almost conversational..His eyes shifted slightly..To where Brian and Theo stood..For a brief second, Brian lifted his chin just enough.

  Theo followed. A nod: small, and controlled. Subtle enough for most to miss. But not Maxwell.

  Maxwell’s smile widened fractionally..He turned away..“Get me something to eat,” he growled.

  One of the boys rushed forward instantly, wrist extended..Five Ninja coins flickered away. Food was placed before Maxwell.

  He sat at the center table..He did not carry his own tray..He did not reach for utensils immediately.

  Someone stood behind him and began massaging his neck..A girl knelt and pressed gently into his calves.

  Maxwell picked up a piece of meat and ate slowly.

  The room remained standing until he gestured lazily.

  They sat. Stella’s eyes never left him. Not once..Newton leaned closer to her. “How are we going to do this?” he whispered. “The man doesn’t look like he is bluffing.”

  His voice was tight. Maxwell laughed at something one of his followers said. The sound carried.

  Stella turned to Newton. She placed her hands lightly on his shoulders. Her grip was firm.

  “Relax,” she said quietly. Her eyes were steady. “I got it under control.”

  After eating, they returned to their various rooms in near silence. No one lingered in the corridor.

  No one joked.

  The air felt tight. Like something was coiling, waiting for morning.

  Newton sat on the edge of his bed, unlacing and relaxing the same knot without realizing it. Samuel lay flat on his back staring at nothing. Brandom paced once, twice, then stopped.

  Then the blue light cut through the room.

  SYSTEM NOTIFICATION.

  The words hovered above them, cold and steady.

  NEW TASK ALERT: ALL LIGHTS WOULD BE OFF.

  WALK AROUND THE DARKNESS FOR AN HOUR.

  REWARD: THREE NINJA POINT.

  FAILURE: NO REWARD.

  Newton stood up immediately..The lights went off..Total darkness swallowed the room.

  Not dim. Not shadowed. But complete darkness.

  Someone inhaled sharply..Feet shuffled against the floor. They began to move.

  Hands stretched out in front of bodies. Fingers spread wide, searching for air that might feel different near a wall.

  Newton took a careful step. Then another..He could hear breathing now. Close. Far. Uneven.

  A foot scraped against something. Someone muttered under their breath. The darkness pressed in from every direction, thick and suffocating.

  Newton’s palm brushed fabric. He jerked back instinctively. Another step.

  His toe hit something hard. He adjusted his direction.

  Then, his forehead slammed into the wall.

  “Aaahhhssshhh!”

  The sound tore out of him before he could swallow it.

  Pain burst across his skull. He staggered backward, clutching his head. Warmth began to spread beneath his fingers.

  “Watch it!” someone hissed nearby.

  Across the corridor, in another room, Brandom stretched his arms wide as he walked, using them like antennae.

  He moved slowly, and carefully.

  Then his shoulder collided with something solid. The body did not stumble.

  “Who is that damn fool?” a voice growled.

  Brandom froze..The tone, was low, controlled, and dangerous.

  Maxwell.

  Brandom’s throat tightened..He did not answer..He did not breathe louder.

  He stepped sideways carefully, keeping his arms extended, then drifted away without a sound.

  Speaking would give away his position. The hour dragged on. Feet collided with bed frames.

  Shins cracked against metal..Someone tripped and hit the floor with a dull thud.

  A muffled curse.

  A suppressed cry.

  In another corner, two bodies slammed into each other and fell together. One elbow struck a cheek. A knee drove into ribs accidentally.

  No one laughed..No one apologized. They just kept moving.

  The darkness disoriented them. Turned straight lines into circles. Turned confidence into caution.

  Newton’s forehead throbbed with every pulse. He lowered one hand from it slowly and resumed walking.

  One step, then another.

  He brushed against a doorframe this time, fingers tracing the edge before moving away.

  Time stretched.

  Without light, minutes felt longer. The air grew hotter from movement. Sweat gathered under collars. Breath grew heavier.

  Somewhere nearby, someone bumped into the same wall twice in a row.

  A sharp intake of pain. Then silence again.

  Finally, the lights returned.

  White brightness flooded the room so suddenly that several students squinted and covered their eyes.

  They blinked.

  Looked around. Foreheads were swollen. Red patches bloomed across skins.

  A boy sat on the floor rubbing his shin. A girl leaned against the wall with watery eyes.

  The blue glow appeared once more.

  SYSTEM NOTIFICATION:

  TASK ACHIEVED. THREE NINJA COINS HAVE BEEN CREDITED.

  Newton exhaled sharply.

  “At least it is worth the huddle,” he muttered, touching the rising bump on his forehead.

  Samuel let out a weak laugh.

  Across the compound, Stella did not react to the reward. Three coins. They meant nothing if Maxwell meant what he said.

  A day to vend, or die.

  She sat on her bed, elbows on her knees, eyes fixed on the opposite wall. She was not trembling. She was calculating. “I will play this game,” she told herself.

  That evening, while most retreated to nurse their bruises, Stella moved from one room to another.

  She did not knock loudly. She slipped in quietly, then spoke softly.

  In one room, three girls sat together, whispering nervously.

  “You worship him because you fear him,” Stella said, standing before them. “But not anymore.”

  They avoided her gaze. “If we have the numbers,” she continued, voice firm but low, “everyone will live equally in this place.”

  One girl shook her head. “He has too many boys.” “He has fear,” Stella replied. She moved to the next room.

  And the next. Some turned away. Some listened without responding.

  In one narrow room near the end of the corridor, a girl with sharp eyes and braided hair watched Stella carefully.

  When Stella finished speaking, the girl nodded once.

  “My name is Angel,” she said quietly. “I stand with you.”

  The words were simple. But they shifted something. The other girls in that room exchanged glances.

  One by one, heads began to nod. Not loudly..Not dramatically. But enough.

  By the time Stella returned to her own bed, the air felt different.

  Still tense. But moving.

  The next morning, they were summoned to class again.

  They filed into the same room. This time, five robots entered..Each carried something different. Metal gleamed under the bright lights.

  The robots lined the equipment carefully on a long desk at the front.

  “Today,” one of them announced, “you will know your Ninja equipment.”

  The first item was lifted. A sword..Slim..Curved slightly.

  Balanced perfectly in the robot’s hand.

  “This is the Ninja sword,” it said. “Lightweight. Designed for swift and precise elimination.”

  The blade caught the light sharply.

  The next item.

  A pair of reinforced gloves. “Ninja hand. Designed to enhance grip and impact.”

  The robot demonstrated by striking a wooden block. The block cracked.

  Another sword, longer. “Ninja long blade.”

  Then a small round object. “Ninja bomb. Impact triggered.”

  The robot placed it gently back on the desk.

  They continued. Smoke pellets. Throwing knives. Compact grappling hooks..Each described with calm detachment.

  Each demonstrated briefly. Newton listened carefully. His eyes followed every movement. His mind stored the details.

  Weight. Reach. Speed. Applications.

  Beside him, Stella was not looking at the equipment. Her gaze was across the room. Maxwell stood near the back, arms folded.

  His eyes were on her. Not the weapons. Not the robots.

  But her.

  The space between them felt charged.

  Maxwell lifted one hand slowly. He extended a finger, and dragged it across his own throat. Deliberate, and clear.

  As if to say. “You are dead.”

  Stella did not look away. Not once.