The hallway smelled like antiseptic and artificial citrus. Thea's boots clicked softly against the gleaming floor — some kind of tile that looked solid, but felt too soft, almost like walking on flesh disguised as linoleum. Igor stayed close behind, limping a little less now, eyes scanning every corner like it might blink back.
They passed what looked like security cameras, but the lenses weren't glass — they were liquid, swirling slowly, adjusting their shape as the pair moved.
"I don't like how the hallway seems to breathe," Igor muttered.
"Don't like how it's watching," Thea replied, tapping the wall gently. It pulsed once beneath her fingers.
They rounded a curve and found themselves in front of a large, frosted glass door.
A cheery chime sounded.
"Welcome, participants!" said the disembodied voice again, this time brighter, overly enthusiastic — like an AI that had been forced to study customer service on loop.
"You have entered: ORIENTATION. This space is designed to ensure your comfort and understanding before proceeding to LEVEL ONE. Please relax."
"Relax?" Igor scoffed. "You kidnapped us and now you want to give us a welcome tour?"
The glass door whooshed open, revealing a wide room that looked like the world's worst therapist's office crossed with a start-up co-working space.
Neon beanbags. Floating display screens. Soothing ambient synth music.
In the center stood… a mannequin.
Not just any mannequin — it had a glued-on smile, dressed in a pastel suit, hands outstretched like it was welcoming long-lost friends.
Its head turned as they walked in.
Neither of them screamed — but Igor let out a short, dry "Nope."
The mannequin spoke.
Its mouth didn't move.
But it spoke, directly into their ears.
"Hello, Thea. Hello, Igor. You're right on time."
Thea froze. "…Did it just say our names?"
The screens flickered to life. Each displayed a looping video of them — candid moments they hadn't realized were ever recorded: riding bikes as kids, sneaking out during senior year, sitting under the bridge eating ice cream after Igor's breakup.
Thea's mouth went dry. "These are… private. Some of these weren't even filmed…"
"You've been watching us?" Igor said, now backing toward the door.
The mannequin didn't answer.
Instead, the lights dimmed and the far wall lit up with a projection:
PROJECT: REAL-TIME HUMAN ADAPTABILITY TEST
Phase 2: Ethical-Cognitive-Emotive Response Trials
PARTICIPANTS:
- QUINNELL, THEA
- ZELINSKY, IGOR
Underneath it, in bolder text:
OBJECTIVE: DETERMINE RESILIENCE UNDER UNCONVENTIONAL STRESS CONDITIONS.
SECONDARY OBJECTIVE: OBSERVE EFFECTS OF FRIENDSHIP ON DECISION-MAKING TRAJECTORIES.
The room went quiet.
For a long moment, Thea and Igor just stared at the wall.
"…Friendship test," Igor whispered. "They put us in a friendship test?"
"No. They put us in a labyrinth disguised as a nightmare disguised as a trust exercise," Thea muttered.
The mannequin's voice chimed again.
"Your experience will consist of a series of environments designed to simulate realistic — and unrealistic — challenges. Some will be mental. Some emotional. Some… metaphysical."
Igor rubbed his face. "Oh yeah. That sounds great. Love me a good metaphysical obstacle course."
"You may find others within the experience," it continued. "Some are test subjects like yourselves. Others are here to assist. Others… are simply data."
The lights flickered again. Thea swore she saw something — just for a second — standing in the far corner of the room. Long. Wrong. Stretched.
But when she looked again, it was gone.
She grabbed Igor's arm.
"We need to get out of here. Now."
He nodded, unusually serious.
They turned to leave, but the glass door had sealed shut. A countdown had begun overhead.
LEVEL ONE BEGINS IN: 00:59… 00:58…
On the wall beside them, a screen flashed the name of the first test:
LEVEL ONE: "THE OFFICE YOU NEVER APPLIED TO"Maintain normalcy. Integrate. Survive one workday.
"God," Igor muttered. "They're gonna make us do capitalism."
A slot opened in the wall and out dropped two lanyards with ID cards:
— Thea Quinnell: JUNIOR FILE ORGANIZER— Igor Zelinsky: COFFEE OPTIMIZATION ASSOCIATE
"Dead serious," Igor said, holding his up. "They gave me a job title that literally means coffee boy."
Thea was already scanning the walls, looking for weak points, anything they could pry open. "Think this place has an HR department we can file a complaint to?"
Another door hissed open.
Beyond it was a glowing office corridor with cubicles, motionless people… and an unnaturally large printer that seemed to be whispering to itself.
The countdown hit zero.
The door closed behind them with a click.