The morning bell rings at exactly 7:00 AM.

It always rings at exactly 7:00 AM.

Not a second earlier. Not a second later.

You open your eyes before the second chime finishes. Oversleeping is recorded. Lingering is recorded. Hesitation is recorded.

Your ceiling is smooth. Your walls are smooth. Your room is smooth. Every surface is a careful shade between light and dark. Nothing sharp. Nothing vibrant. Nothing distracting.

The ceiling speaker hums to life.

"Good morning, citizen. Today is a stable day. Productivity levels are optimal. Please maintain balance."

You sit up slowly. Movements should never appear rushed. Or reluctant.

You press your hand to the small monitor on your bedside table. It reads your pulse. Stable.

Your breathing. Stable.

Your sleep cycles. Acceptable.

You are cleared for another day.

Across from your bed hangs the Regulation Chart. It has been there since childhood.

JOY: Minimal
SADNESS: Minimal
ANGER: Restricted
CURIOSITY: Moderated

You rise.

Your wardrobe contains five identical outfits. Shade 3. Standard cut. Regulation length. Fabric designed to neither attract nor repel attention.

You select the one on the far left.

Routine creates calm.

In the hallway, doors open in synchronized rhythm. No one slams. No one whispers. Footsteps align like a practiced orchestra with no music.

Your Assigned Neighbor exits at the exact same moment.

"Good morning."

The smile lasts exactly three seconds. Their eyes do not linger.

Lingering suggests attachment. Attachment suggests imbalance.

You walk toward the transit platform. The air is filtered. Scentless. Even the wind feels measured.

Above the street, large banners hang between buildings.

COMPLIANCE IS CALM
CALM IS HAPPINESS
HAPPINESS IS DUTY

You have never seen a banner that says anything else.

At the platform, citizens stand on marked lines. Heels aligned. Hands visible. Expressions neutral.

Children stand the same way.

They learn early.

From the central tower, a broadcast begins.

"Reminder: unauthorized art, music, or symbolic shapes require review. Elevated readings will be evaluated. Together we preserve harmony."

No one reacts.

At the far end of the platform stand officers of the Ministry of Emotional Regulation. Their uniforms are immaculate. Their posture identical.

All except one.

He stands slightly apart.

Tall. Still. Untouched by even the suggestion of disorder.

His coat falls perfectly. His gloves are without crease. His gaze moves across the crowd not like a person looking, but like a system assessing.

It passes over faces.

Pauses.

Moves on.

Then returns.

To you.

Not long enough to be improper.

Just long enough for your pulse to shift by half a beat.

He steps forward. No rush. No wasted motion.

"Citizen."

His voice is even. Precise.

"I would like your current stability reading."