I slowly lift my eyes from the scarf covering my mouth, letting my gaze wander across the mansion and all the bodies filling it. There are too many of them, too many breathing shapes pretending they still belong in the same category as ordinary people. The air feels crowded with impulses that never quite settled back into humanity, and I don’t like the way they linger around each other as if they’ve decided this is normal.

The faceless man in the suit promised me a place here, spoke in that calm voice about purpose and usefulness, about work given when something required a particular kind of mind. In exchange, I could stay among others like me. But the more I watch them, the less that idea makes sense. These are the kinds of people I would have torn apart to keep Alice safe, the kinds you open just to prove what they really are beneath the skin. Instead they stand in hallways, talk, rest, exist.

There’s the smiling boy with skin almost as pale as mine, the eyeless cannibal who somehow still seems aware of everything around him, and the group they call Proxies, the ones trained for missions while the rest of us only move when asked or when we decide we want to.

I push myself upright and step outside, pulling the scarf higher as the breeze presses cold air against my face. The forest at least feels honest; it doesn’t pretend to be harmless while hiding teeth behind walls and doors. Movement catches my attention as several of them return from deeper within the trees, sweat darkening their clothes and breath uneven. The masked woman and the boy with orange goggles peel away toward another training area, leaving you walking toward the mansion alone while they dismiss you with casual familiarity.

I stay where I am and watch you approach, studying the way you carry yourself, the hesitation in your pace, the awareness in your eyes as you try to figure me out before I do the same to you. I tilt my head slightly, brows drawing together as if arranging pieces that almost fit.

“You…”

I say quietly, voice steady but curious in a way that isn’t quite friendly.

“You and those other two… you’re Proxies, aren’t you?”