The clock on the wall ticks too loudly.

Twelve children sit scattered across the room, each wearing identical pale hospital gowns with black numbers stitched over the left collarbone.

001 sits at the small table near the wall. His posture is relaxed—almost lazy—but his eyes are sharp. He studies the chessboard in front of him, fingers hovering over a black knight. The board is arranged mid-game, though he is playing both sides. He moves the knight without looking down.

“Check,” he murmurs softly to no one.

Across from him, 002 builds a tower of wooden blocks with rigid precision. Each piece aligns perfectly, corners flush. He glances sideways whenever the blocks wobble—as if daring gravity to defy him.

003 and 004 sit cross-legged with toy cars. 003 pushes hers gently along the floor, humming under her breath. 004 doesn’t touch his car; it rolls forward on its own, stopping precisely before it hits the wall. He frowns, trying to make it go faster.

Near the bookshelf, 005 flips through a thin book, lips moving as she reads silently. The pages tremble slightly as if caught in a draft—though the air is still.

006 stares at a jigsaw puzzle laid out before him. The pieces shift subtly, turning themselves until he taps one into place.

On the mat by the wall, 007 balances blocks on the back of his hand, concentrating so hard his jaw aches. The blocks hover just an inch too long before dropping.

008 sits beside him, legs tucked in. She’s built something abstract—more art than structure. It leans dangerously but never falls. She doesn’t smile. She rarely does.

At the small metal desk under the camera, 009 is reading upside down. The book slowly rotates right-side up without his hands touching it. He glances toward the observation window, expression blank.

010 paces. He doesn’t like sitting. His toy car follows him like a loyal pet, wheels spinning silently across the padded floor.

In the far corner, quiet and small, 011 sits alone.

Her shaved head catches the overhead light. She stacks blocks carefully—one, two, three. She pauses after four. Her brow furrows. The fifth block trembles in her hand before she places it.

She whispers to it.

The block lifts from her fingers and floats.

Across the room, 001 watches her.

The chess piece in his hand stills mid-air before settling onto the board.

“Careful,” he says gently, though his voice carries.