Seeds Of Rebellion

more akin to the monotonous drone of a machine, indifferent and unfeeling. He adjusted the collar of his ill-fitting grey suit, the fabric as devoid of

n a sparrow, which seemed to be the popular choice amongst the more... hopeful... attendees. He ran his thumb ov

sent and grating, blasted anodyne music interwoven with pronouncements of teamwork and shared experience. The saccharine platitudes felt like a physical weight, settling in his stomach like lead. He felt a familiar wave of nausea. He'd already been reprimanded twice for a lack of zeal during th

reception desk, a silent testament to failure. Elias hadn't seen her, but the whispers followed him like sha

little comfort: a sterile, manicured landscape stretching towards the imposing grey edifice of

s an unsettling difference about her. While others displayed varying degrees of desperation, she radiated an almost unnerving calm. He caught her eye – a fleeting moment of something that was not v

.I've observed that you haven't been participating fully." It sounded lame, even to his own ear

rticipating?" she echoed, the word a scathing indictme

ortably so. "I...I suppose so. I haven't...succeeded." He glanced at her wrist. No identification band denoting h

Success is a fabrication. You believe that trans

something, anything beyond the confines of his prescribed

me is Seraphina. I'm here to dismantle the entire apparatus." She leaned forward, h

m? Genuinely see beyond the animalistic label and his carefully constructed compliance? He felt a

e he imagined the hamster's cage to be, its inhabitant circling endlessly, a furry symbol of failure. He looked back at Seraphina, her eyes burning with a