The Report
461 Words
The camp pulsed with discipline—boots striking in rhythm drills filling the air, voices clipped and sharp, floodlights slicing through the dusk.This was the secret military division of which they train their most lethal soldiers,orphans and people who have forgotten their past,people who aren't bound to the world . Liora walked through halls with the precision of a weapon, dossier tucked under her arm, her face unreadable heading towards the command hall.
Inside the command hall, the air smelled of steel and antiseptic. Screens glowed with surveillance footage, maps, and lists of names. At the center stood Commander Veyr, his eyes colder than the rifles he issued.
“Assignment complete?” His voice was flat, stripped of curiosity.
“Yes,” she replied, her tone as sharp as the edge of a blade. “Target neutralized. Guards eliminated.”
He studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Efficient. As expected.”
The Cold Persona
She stood rigid, posture perfect, emotions buried beneath layers of conditioning. The experiments had carved her into this shape:
Chemical trials dulled empathy, sharpening reflexes.
Sensory deprivation tanks taught her to live in silence, to kill without hesitation.
Pain conditioning rewired her responses—fear became focus, doubt became obedience.
Psychological betrayal tests forced her to turn on fellow recruits, teaching her loyalty was weakness.
She had learned to bury the girl she once was. To silence the voice that whispered of family, of marriage, of freedom.
Now, she was shadow. Ruthless. Cold.
Yet as she handed over the dossier, her fingers trembled—just slightly, enough for her to notice.
Commander Veyr’s gaze narrowed. “You hesitate.”
She forced her hand steady. “No, sir.”
But inside, the memory of the man’s laughter obvious to the dangers of the world—the target’s happiness radiating through the atmosphere—echoed against her father’s voice. The arranged marriage. The accident. The storm.
The fractures in her mind widened, threatening to spill through the mask she carefully wore.
The Warning
Veyr leaned closer, his voice low. “You are ours. Do not forget that. The experiments made you what you are. Without us, you are nothing.”
She met his gaze, her eyes cold. “I am shadow.”
He smiled faintly, satisfied. “Good. Another assignment awaits.” handing her a folder with details of her next target.
She turned to leave, her boots striking the floor in perfect rhythm.
But as she stepped back into the night air of the camp, the paper from the man in the shadows burned in her pocket: The marriage is the key.
Her heart, hardened by experiments, still beat with a truth she could not kill. Sooner or later she would have to choose a side.
- Writer
