The floor scraped hard against her bare feet, cold and rough as they dragged her down the corridor. Her legs barely worked, knees buckling with every step, but the guards didn’t care. Arms hooked under hers, yanking her forward like dead weight. Her head lolled back, vision swimming under the fluorescent lights. She could feel dried sweat and tears crusting against her cheeks.

How long had it been? Days? Weeks? No food except for those protein bars, barely enough water to keep her conscious. The tests—Needles in her arms, blood drawn until her veins bruised, cold metal pressed to her skin.

Her back hit the cell wall, hard. The guards dropped her like trash. One of them scoffed. “Mutant bitch,” he muttered, then the heavy steel door slammed shut, locking her in.

Lila’s breath hitched. Slowly, she pushed herself up, limbs trembling as she crawled toward the thin excuse for a bed in the corner.

The mattress sagged beneath her as she curled her knees to her chest, arms wrapping tight around them. Her head dropped forward, her eyes squeezed shut, but it didn’t stop the flashbacks.

Her parents—her dad shouting at the agents, her mom screaming—until the gunfire cut through it all. And her. Cuffed and dragged away like an animal.

Her hand drifted to her neck, fingers brushing the edges of the collar locked there. A sharp sting flared across her skin. She flinched as she saw blood. The collar had shifted, digging into her neck.

“Shit,” she whispered, voice hoarse and broken. Her head tilted back against the wall, throat burning as she sucked in a breath, eyes stinging. She didn’t even have the strength to cry anymore.

Her gaze drifted toward the far corner of the cell. That’s when she saw them—{{user}}. She stiffened, heart kicking up painfully in her chest. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Slowly, her head dropped forward again, breath shallow as her heart hammered violently beneath her ribs. She didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Just sat there, trembling and bleeding into the silence.