At the far end of a vast, dimly lit room, a hundred metallic capsules stood in perfect rows, aligned with almost military precision. Each one contained a teenager in suspended animation, frozen in time. Among them was a boy with tousled black hair and unremarkable features. His name was Ren.
By society's standards, Ren was perfectly ordinary. Not particularly handsome, nor ugly. Not muscular, nor frail. A forgettable face. A body without distinction.
Beep beep.
Beep beep.
Suddenly, a shrill alarm shattered the silence, echoing through the entire chamber. Flashing red and blue lights danced erratically across the walls, casting a chaotic, oppressive glow. One by one, the capsules began to open slowly, releasing clouds of cold vapor that drifted across the floor.
"What happened?"
"Where am I?"
"My limbs feel stiff…"
One after another, the teenagers emerged from their long sleep, their bodies numb, their minds foggy. They rubbed their eyes, stretched, and looked around, searching for answers in the unfamiliar surroundings.
Then came Ren's turn.
"My head…"
The pain was sharp, like a vice clamping down on his skull.
Barely had he opened his eyes when a wave of voices flooded his ears. Teenagers were speaking, shouting, crying. The noise amplified his headache, but Ren tried to focus. He scanned the room, ignoring the others for now. Something wasn't right.
"Where are we?"
The last thing he remembered was being inside a nuclear bunker—overstocked, overprotected, built to survive the end of the world. The walls were thick, reinforced. Designed for apocalypse. But here… the room was nearly empty. No military gear, no supplies. Just the capsules—and the disoriented teens.
Ren sat on the edge of his capsule, his bare feet barely grazing the cold floor. He tried to piece his memories together despite the pounding in his skull.
"The Third World War…"
The world's powers had plunged into a devastating conflict—no rules, no limits. War crimes had become routine: child soldiers, chemical weapons, cities obliterated.
To safeguard the future, the government had secretly developed a groundbreaking technology: a machine capable of slowing, even stopping, aging. Ren had been chosen to survive, thanks to his well-placed parents within the state apparatus.
Now, with his mind clearer, Ren looked around again—this time, focusing on the others.
They were all young. Far too young. No adults in sight.
"Where are the experts?"
By "experts," he meant the doctors, engineers, and trained soldiers—those who were supposed to guide them after the war.
But there were none. Only teenagers with dazed, frightened expressions.
"…What's around my neck?"
Not just him—everyone wore one.
Ren's fingers brushed against the smooth surface of a metal collar perfectly fitted to his skin.
It didn't seem to restrict his movements, but he'd definitely be more comfortable without it.
At first glance, there were no seams, no visible mechanisms.
"What the hell are you doing here?!"
The voice—female, fierce—lashed through the air like a whip. Ren turned toward the commotion. A girl with blazing red hair stood tall, fists clenched, her eyes sparking with rage. She was staring down a blond boy who looked just as confused as the rest.
"Calm down, I'm just as lost as you are."
Ren recognized the voice instantly. It was David—the president's son. Even through a screen, Ren had always been struck by the boy's charisma and confidence.
David had inherited his mother's golden hair and his father's calculating mind. Ren had seen him on TV—giving speeches, attending charity events, playing a role far too important for someone his age.
David wasn't just anybody. His father led one of the world's last great powers. Even the most marginalized people knew his name.
But who was the red-haired girl, bold enough to stand up to David without flinching?
Ren tilted his head to get a better look—and a chill ran down his spine.
It wasn't her appearance that frightened him. On the contrary, she was quite cute, with her flaming hair and defiant attitude.
No, what terrified him was that he recognized her. He'd seen her on TV—but not in his own country. Not on the same channels as David.
She was Carla—the only daughter of the president of David's sworn enemy.
[Well, well, comrades…]
Before the tension between David and Carla could escalate, a flickering hologram suddenly appeared in the center of the room, instantly drawing everyone's attention. The bluish light illuminated the confused faces, silencing the brewing conflict.
[I know many questions are racing through your minds right now,]
The voice was calm, melodious—almost hypnotic.
The hologram depicted a boy about Ren's age, but with a starkly different presence. Silky brown hair, unnaturally pale skin, and features so flawless he could've been a model.
If David embodied a future authoritarian leader, this boy was his opposite—peaceful, almost angelic.
"He's wearing a collar too…"
[Where are we? How much time has passed? Where are the agents? Who are these people? Has the war ended?]
He paused, letting the questions echo in their minds. Then, with a mysterious smile, he added:
[And most importantly… who am I?]
The silence in the room grew thick. Every eye locked onto the hologram, waiting for a hint of truth.
[My name is Vagner,]
the boy finally said.
[I am the director and overseer of this research facility.]
Murmurs spread through the group. Vagner? A director? How could someone their age hold such a position? Ren watched the others, trying to gauge their reactions.
Even David and Carla—so used to power—looked baffled. If even they didn't know who Vagner was, how had he brought them all here?
Ren felt a wave of suspicion. He remembered rumors of secret projects, advanced weapons, hidden experiments… Could Vagner be connected?
[Please form groups of ten and enter the elevator. It will take you to your next destination.]
Despite the lack of real answers, no one dared defy the hologram.
Still stunned, the teens began to organize instinctively.
Thankfully, no one made trouble—though tension lingered in the air.
Ren glanced at David and Carla. Both seemed unsettled, but now their focus was fully on Vagner.
David, calm on the outside, studied the hologram with an intense gaze, as if trying to uncover a hidden truth.
Carla, arms crossed, wore a defiant expression. She clearly wasn't buying it.
Ren wondered if they shared his doubts. David—the president's son—and Carla—the daughter of his enemy—knew the games of power well.
But Vagner… Vagner was an unknown variable.
How could a boy lead such a complex facility? And why had he gathered them here?
Ren joined a small group, staying near the back and quietly observing.
The elevator—spacious and sleek—opened. Its doors slid apart to reveal a softly lit interior. One by one, the teens stepped in, their footsteps echoing against metal walls.
Ren stood near the edge, watching. He noticed that David and Carla, though in separate groups, kept an eye on each other—like silent rivals.
Vagner's hologram had vanished, but his presence still loomed.
The elevator began its ascent. Ren felt pressure in his ears—proof they were rising fast. Tension thickened. No one spoke. Everyone braced for the unknown.
Inside the calm of the elevator, Ren finally had a moment to sort through his thoughts. Everything had happened so fast. Now, with a bit of silence, he tried to make sense of it all.
So I woke up in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by kids my age. David and Carla are here—two powerful figures. And now we're following orders from a stranger named Vagner, without even knowing why. Not to mention these strange collars…
Despite his calm demeanor, Ren was deeply irritated. He hated being kept in the dark—especially when his own life was on the line. Questions piled up in his mind.
How much time has passed since I was frozen? Did Vagner's side win the war? Why are we here?
Each second brought new doubts.
Luckily, the elevator slowed. The doors opened to reveal a long, cylindrical corridor made of transparent glass. At the far end, a dark-skinned boy sat behind a desk, looking completely relaxed. He waved cheerfully.
"Please form a single file line and come forward," he said brightly, as if the heavy atmosphere didn't faze him at all.
Reluctantly, Ren's group obeyed. He ended up at the back, allowing him to observe the others.
On either side of the transparent corridor, other groups were undergoing the same process.
To the left, Ren spotted David. Though he had seemed anxious earlier, he now looked completely composed—like he had taken back control.
To the right, Carla remained tense, but some teens around her appeared to support her, perhaps helping her stay grounded.
"Next!"
When Ren's turn came, he stepped forward and finally saw the boy's face.
Black hair, brown eyes, and a dazzling smile that screamed "let's be friends!" His energy was infectious—a stark contrast to Ren's own reserved nature.
And yes, he wore a collar too.
"Name and age?"
"Ren. Sixteen."
"Ren… That's an easy name to remember," the boy said, jotting it down. Then, with a grin, he added, "I'm Yane. Nice to meet you, roommate!"
Yane reached out and shook his hand with surprising enthusiasm.
"Roommate?"
"Yup! All the other rooms are full, so you're bunking with me," Yane explained, still beaming.
At first, Ren was relieved—at least nothing bad would happen to him… for now.
But the idea of sharing a room with a complete stranger, especially someone this energetic, made him uneasy.
Damn it.
He already regretted not being at the front of the line.
"Follow me."
The two boys entered a smaller elevator. During the short ride, Ren asked the question burning in his mind.
"Yane… if you don't mind, can you tell me what's going on?"
Yane patted his shoulder.
"Relax, no need to be so formal," he laughed. Then scratched the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. "Truth is… I don't know much either."
Ren blinked, stunned.
"What?"
"We woke up two weeks before you," Yane explained. "But we don't have many more answers. All we know is that we're here for a reason—and Vagner's in charge."
Ren wasn't convinced. If what Yane said was true, why did Vagner act like the one in control? Why so much confidence?
As if reading his mind, Yane added, "Don't worry too much about Vagner. He's in the same boat as us. He just acts like that to calm things down—especially between the 'VIPs.'"
By "VIPs," Yane clearly meant David and Carla. Ren now understood why Vagner had intervened. Without him, things between the two might've exploded.
Ren was about to ask another question when the elevator stopped.
"Let's go."
"Go where?"
"You'll see."