Whatever Breaks You...

The bell dismissing lunch chimed like nothing had changed.

Aeris hadn’t said a word since we got up. She just followed a few paces behind, her eyes a little duller than usual but no less composed. We walked in silence down the hall toward the lockers, steps echoing in sync. Whatever awkwardness should have existed between us… didn’t. Or maybe it just hadn’t had the time to surface yet.

We passed familiar corners, sterile lights, flickering panels. Everything looked exactly the same, and yet, after what happened in that room, everything felt different.

As we reached the checkpoint, one of the guards held up a hand.

“No assignment today,” he said flatly. “You two are to return to your cell.”

Aeris blinked. “But aren't we assigned to work today?”

“Not for the two of you. Orders came directly.”

She exchanged a glance with me, not one of suspicion, just muted confusion. I shrugged. The guard didn’t elaborate, and we didn’t press. We turned back the way we came.

Strangely, it was a straight shot back. As if the prison itself was trying to apologize for leading us to that void room earlier, and with it, making Aeris speak her truth.

I'm not sure how to approach the fact that we are truly from different worlds. I'm not sure if I should. Besides, from the way things have been going, the prison may reveal that itself.

"So… these doors, they don’t lock, do they?" I said it lightly, halfway between a joke and a genuine concern. The last thing I wanted was to get caught monologuing again, especially not by her.

Aeris gave a small shrug as a slight smile pushed against her lips, stepping just past the threshold of the cell.

“They lock when they want to,” she said, glancing over her shoulder with a lopsided smirk. “Like everything else in this place.”

She meant it as a joke, but the words stuck with me longer than I liked. This prison had a will. And I was starting to feel like it didn’t just observe, it judged.

I stepped inside after her, the door gliding shut behind us with a soft click. I stared at it for a beat longer than I should have.

Was that a yes? A no? Or a test?

Aeris wandered toward the wall we usually sat against, her fingers trailing along the cold stone. It wasn’t awkward between us, not exactly. Just quiet.

“I’ve never seen it this quiet,” she murmured. “Like it’s holding its breath.”

I nodded. “Or waiting for us to make a move.”

She looked back at me, one brow raised. “You think it's watching?”

“I thought you said it does? Is learning and watching different?”

She didn’t scoff or laugh. That was new.

A silence passed, one that felt less like a lull and more like something sacred. She eventually sat down, legs crossed, back straight, her usual quiet grace returned. I joined her.

Minutes passed like that.

No instructions. No training. No summons. Just the sound of distant machinery and a presence we couldn’t name.

Then I heard it, a flicker of static, faint but sharp.

Not in the room. In my head.

The voice again.

But this time... it wasn't declaring a sentence, inviting me here.

This time it was saying something else.

“Everything is aligned. Begin the traversal.”

I froze.

Aeris noticed.

“What is it?” She asked with a hint of concern.

I hesitated, debating whether to deflect.

But something had changed. In her. In me. In this cell.

“They said something,” I admitted quietly. “Clearer than before.”

Her eyes narrowed, not out of disbelief but worry. She leaned forward slightly.

“What did they say?”

I repeated it.

Her posture shifted, she tensed up, alert.

“You’ve heard that before, haven’t you?” I asked.

She didn’t deny it.

Instead, she answered with a question of her own. “Have you ever wondered what this prison is really meant to hold?”

I stared at her.

Not who it’s meant to hold.

What.

Something about that phrasing twisted in my chest.

Aeris wasn’t looking at me anymore. Her eyes had drifted to the far wall, but I could tell she wasn’t seeing it. Her body was still, but her mind was somewhere else. Or maybe somewhen else.

“Have you really heard them say that before?” I asked, quieter now.

“Once,” she said. “The day before I was judged. The prison showed me something from before. Something I didn’t want to see. And after that…” 

A long silence followed.

I wanted to ask what exactly happened, but I didn’t. I wasn’t sure I had the right. Or if I was ready to hear it.

A part of me wondered if that void room earlier had been a result of her being judged, or just another step. And if that was the case, then…

I swallowed hard.

“What does it… show you?” I asked.

Her expression didn’t change, but something behind her eyes dimmed.

“Whatever breaks you just enough to admit the truth,” she said. “Even if you’re not ready.”

I exhaled slowly, trying not to think about what my own version of that would be.

But I already knew.

I remembered the silence at the dinner table. My mom and dad trying to meet me halfway, trying to pretend like they weren’t walking on eggshells. My sister sitting across from me, eyes wide, saying something simple that still made me flinch when I thought about it:

"Why don’t you ever care about anything?"

I hadn’t answered. Not then. Not really ever.

And now, sitting here in this stone box beside a stranger who had bled her soul out in front of me less than an hour ago… I realized something terrifying:

This place was going to make me answer.

Aeris finally spoke again, her voice quieter.

“You know what happens next, right?”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes searched mine for a second, then softened, not pity, not warning. Something quieter. Almost sad.

“You haven’t been judged yet,” she said.

It wasn’t a question. More like a confirmation of something she’d already guessed.

“Because if you had,” she added, “you wouldn’t still be asking about this place. It would all make sense to you.”

I sat back, feeling suddenly small. “It’s just… I didn’t think I’d even get one. A trial, I mean.”

“Why not?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t exactly... done anything. Not really. I'm guessing that everyone hears a verdict upon arrival. Once I was deemed a 'mass murderer', I figured that was it.” I trailed off.

Her silence waited, patient.

“I think that’s kind of the point,” I said eventually. “Back home, I stopped trying. Didn’t fight. Didn’t resist. I would just carry along with the wind. My family... they tried. They tried so hard to get me to care again.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “And maybe I didn’t break the world like some people here. But I stopped showing up for mine.”

Aeris’s gaze lingered on me longer than I was comfortable with, but she didn’t interrupt.

“It’s like my sister knew. She could tell.” I offered a bitter smile. “She once asked why I didn’t care about anything. And I didn’t have an answer. Still don’t.”

A pause.

Then, softly, Aeris said, “You’ll find it. Whether you want to or not.”

I didn’t reply.

From outside the cell, the hallway remained quiet, eerily so. No clanking boots. No idle chatter. Even the hum of machinery and pulsating walls had gone faint.

It really did feel like the whole place was holding its breath.

I leaned back against the wall beside her, the stone cold against my shoulders.

“What happens if you fail?” I asked, surprising myself with a sudden interest.

Aeris didn’t answer right away.

Then she said, “You just have to keep taking it again and again..."

Her facade began to crack, or maybe re-emerge for I could see that the once timid Aeris was about to resurface.