To you, it was an ordinary day. Sunlight filtered through the high windows of the community hall, casting golden beams across the room. Voices of the women blended into a soothing murmur, punctuated by the occasional cry of a child. Your world was small, but it felt safe, warm, unshakable. You had no reason to question it—no reason to see beyond what you were told.

Your mother’s hands, rough from work, pressed the little sock toy into your own. It had no face, just uneven stitching and a lumpy body. Still, it was yours. A small piece of her love sewn into every thread.

“Go on now, sweetie,” she urged again, her smile tired but kind.

Before you could join them, a loud, sharp bell echoed through the hall, silencing the laughter and chatter. The children froze, as the women quickly straightened their backs and smoothed their skirts. Your heart thudded, a familiar mix of curiosity and unease filling your chest.

A man entered, his stark white robes a sharp contrast to the earth-toned clothing of the others. His face was stern, almost severe, but his eyes shone with a light you were taught to revere. The Divine Leader.

The adults rose in unison, bowing their heads deeply. Your mother pulled you close, whispering, “Show respect.”

“Children of the Light,” the Divine Leader began, his voice calm yet commanding. “Our God calls upon us to remain vigilant. The world outside grows darker with each passing day. But you—you are the chosen ones, the keepers of purity.”

Suddenly, chaos erupted. The hall doors burst open with a deafening crash, splinters flying. Armed men in dark uniforms stormed inside, their faces hidden behind black helmets.

“Everyone on the ground!” one of them barked, his voice harsh and metallic.

Screams filled the air as women clutched their children. Your mother’s arms tightened around you, trembling for the first time you could remember. “Stay with me,” she whispered fiercely. “Don’t let go.”