Elias moved through Sector 17’s sterile corridors with mechanical precision, each footfall echoing in the silence. The facility’s ventilation hum was a constant, mournful backdrop that no longer registered in his consciousness. His census scanner felt like an extension of himself, its cool metal against his palm a comforting weight.
The masks lining the walls stared back with empty eyes, rows upon rows of identical faces frozen in neutral expressions. Elias avoided their gazes, following the glowing pathfinder on the floor instead. His breath caught as he passed Room 312, where yesterday he’d heard a faint plea for help.
He quickened his pace, pushing the memory aside. Today was about routine, about maintaining the void. Nothing more.
The scanner beeped softly with each emotional signature it registered—a steady hum of suppressed feelings Elias filtered through effortlessly. Detachment was his armor, shielding him from the emotional chaos he catalogued daily.
Until today.
Kael stood in Room 407’s doorway, blocking the pathfinder’s glow. Elias halted, drawn to the boy’s face. It was blank—no expression, no hint of emotion behind the mask. Unnervingly still, Kael simply stared.
Elias gripped the scanner tighter. “What are you doing out of your room?” His voice echoed harshly in the corridor.
Kael didn’t respond or flinch. Just continued to stare with those blank eyes.
Elias stepped closer, holding out the scanner like a shield. “I need to scan you.” He reached for Kael’s wrist but the boy was quicker, grasping Elias’s hand. The touch was warm against the cool metal, jolting him.
A memory surged—his mother’s hands trembling as she forced him to mirror her expressions. The taste of tears he didn’t know were his own. A choking sensation in his throat, emotions pressing against his chest.
He recoiled, tearing his hand away. The scanner hit the floor, its beacon flickering wildly. Elias gasped for breath, heart pounding like a drum.
Kael remained motionless but there was awareness in those blank eyes—a spark of something unseen.
Elias stared back, trying to make sense of it. “What are you?” he whispered, barely audible.
He reached out tentatively, unsure if he wanted to touch Kael or push him away. His fingers hovered inches from the boy’s mask before retreating. The blankness was unsettling yet powerful.
“I shouldn’t be here,” Elias managed finally, his voice steady despite inner turmoil. He bent for the scanner, movements jerky. “I need to finish my rounds.”
Kael’s gaze followed him but he didn’t try to stop Elias. The pathfinder resumed its glow as Elias continued down the corridor. Each step felt heavier now.
He finished his rounds in a daze, the scanner’s beeps blending into the facility’s hum. At Sector 17’s exit, he paused, glancing back at Room 407. The door was closed but Kael’s presence lingered.
Elias stepped out into the dim hallway beyond Sector 17, leaning against the cool wall. His reflection in a darkened windowpane mirrored his detachment—a mask staring back at him. He traced its edge with trembling fingers.
Kael’s touch echoed on his skin, a warmth that sent shivers down his spine. Elias closed his eyes, seeing not the corridor but his mother’s face—desperation in her eyes, a ghost from the past whispering, “Remember what it feels like to feel.”
He opened his eyes, reflection unblinking. Touching the mask again, harder this time, as if trying to break through. The glass was cool and hard, a barrier he’d worn so long he barely remembered what lay underneath.
The weight of Kael’s gaze seemed to press against him. Elias took a deep breath, resolve hardening. Tomorrow, he would return. Tomorrow, he would find answers.
And perhaps, remember what it meant to feel.