Arwa had no idea how long she stood there.
The tiles had gone dark, but she still felt them under her skin — circling, watching, remembering. The silence in the courtyard was louder than any scream from Room 308.
Rayyan's words stayed with her.
"I don't like surprises. So I prepare."
Prepare for what?
Her limbs finally obeyed her, one slow step at a time, like she wasn't walking but returning from something—something that had already changed her.
The hallway back to the dorm was cold. Too cold for late spring. The kind of cold that made your instincts buzz.
She swiped her ID at the door.
Click.
Inside, her room was untouched. Exactly as she left it. The blinds half-closed. The books on her desk still open to the same pages. But it didn't feel like hers anymore.
She dropped her bag and went straight to the mirror.
Eyes bloodshot. Jaw clenched tight. She looked like someone who knew something she wasn't supposed to.
Her ID beeped.
She froze.
New Notification: Memory Room - Delta Wing Access Time: 08:15 Unaccompanied Entry Required
Delta ?
She stared at the screen,
Unaccompanied. Why?
It was 08:03.
Twelve minutes.
The room felt too small now. Like the walls were leaning in.
She grabbed her jacket, slipped out, and moved—fast. Past doors still shut. Past students who hadn't yet realized something had shifted in this place.
Delta Wing's corridor was different in daylight. Cleaner. Brighter. But it still carried the scent of secrets.
She reached the room. A steel door with a sensor. No number. No name.
Her heart knocked against her ribs like it wanted out.
She raised her hand to the scanner.
Beep.
The door slid open.
Inside, it wasn't a room.
It was a trap.
Circular walls. No windows. One chair in the center. Black. Bolted to the floor. Screens lined the walls, blank but humming. A single light overhead, harsh and clinical.
The door shut behind her.
She didn't move.
Then—one screen flickered.
Her stomach turned.
It was Hadi. On the floor, back against a wall, shaking. His eyes wild.
The footage wasn't live. It wasn't new either.
It was... from before.
A timestamp blinked in the corner. Three days ago.
"Some chairs are heavier than others."
The voice. Again.
The same phrase. Repeating like a curse.
Arwa stepped back, eyes darting to the other screens. They blinked on—one by one. Zayaan. Samra. Rayyan. All at different times. All in that same chair.
Same room.
Different reactions.
Rayyan's screen caught her attention. He didn't flinch. Didn't even blink when the voice echoed.
He whispered something.
The audio tried to catch it. Static.
She leaned closer.
The volume peaked for a moment—
"Let it watch. I'll watch back."
The screen went black.
The room dimmed.
Silence.
Then her ID pinged one last time.
You have been seen. Exit.
The door opened behind her.
She stepped out like she was walking out of a dream someone else wrote.
Whatever this was, it wasn't a test.
It was a story.
And they were already inside it.