Chapter Text
When Ren woke, the room was quieter than it had been the night before.
Too quiet.
He pushed himself upright on the thin mattress, eyes sweeping over the rows of beds.
There were gaps. Too many.
Minho’s bed was empty. So was Newt’s. Frypan’s blanket was folded at the end of his bed, as if he’d never slept there at all.
Ren’s stomach turned.
Thomas stood near the far wall, running a hand through his messy hair. His jaw was tight, eyes darting to the door every few seconds like he expected someone to walk through it.
Ren slid off the bed and crossed to him. “They’re gone.”
Thomas looked at him. “Yeah.” His voice was flat, controlled in a way that made Ren uneasy. “Minho, Newt, Frypan. And a couple of the other guys.”
Ren glanced around again. The ones left—barely a dozen—sat on their beds in silence, the weight of confusion and fear pressing down like a physical force.
One boy finally spoke, voice shaking. “What the hell’s going on? Where are they taking everyone?”
No one answered.
---
Breakfast was served by the same silent staff—trays of unidentifiable gray paste. Ren didn’t bother touching his.
Thomas sat across from him, poking at the food without eating either.
“They’re not safe,” Thomas muttered, low enough that only Ren could hear.
Ren tilted his head slightly. “You think they’re being killed?”
Thomas hesitated. “I don’t know. But they’re not telling us anything. That’s the problem.”
Ren hummed softly, not disagreeing. He didn’t say that he already knew the answer.
---
Kuro’s voice brushed faintly against his mind. “Still can’t get in. Security’s tight.”
Ren shifted in his seat to hide that he was listening. “Stay put. You’ll be noticed if you try too much.”
“You don’t like this place.”
Ren glanced around at the sterile white walls, the cameras in the corners of the ceiling. “No one sane would.”
---
Thomas suddenly stood up from the table. “I’m not sitting around anymore,” he said sharply. “We’re finding out what’s going on.”
Ren followed without a word.
Because if Thomas was going to get answers—Ren needed to be there when he did.
---
Thomas led the way down the sterile hallway, every step echoing too loudly. Ren followed just behind, hands shoved in his pockets like he wasn’t worried—but his eyes were always moving, scanning corners, cameras, doors.
At the end of the hall, Thomas stopped short.
A boy was waiting.
“Aris,” Thomas breathed.
The kid was wiry, pale, with sharp blue eyes that never quite rested on one place. He jerked his head toward the ventilation shaft on the wall. “This way. Hurry.”
Ren didn’t ask how Aris had managed to get the cover off the vent. Didn’t ask how he even knew Thomas would be here. Instead, he crouched low and slipped inside right after them, the metal cool under his palms as they crawled.
---
The vents twisted and turned endlessly. Ren’s knees ached, but he kept quiet. His eyes flicked over every grate they passed, cataloguing hallways and doors in his head like he was drawing a map only he could see.
The first room they stopped at was a lab.
Ren pressed his face against the grate and froze.
Glass walls. Stainless steel tables. Rows of syringes and vials filled with amber liquid. One table was stained a dark, rusty color that had nothing to do with medicine.
Thomas sucked in a sharp breath behind him.
“See?” Aris whispered. “This is what they do here.”
Ren didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.
---
They moved on.
Another vent. Another grate. Another room.
This one was worse.
There were beds—lined up like in the dorms. But the people on them weren’t sleeping. They were strapped down, tubes running from their arms, monitors tracking every breath.
Ren felt Thomas stiffen.
“They’re still alive,” Aris murmured. “For now.”
Ren didn’t speak. His eyes stayed locked on one of the boys—Frypan.
He looked pale. Too pale.
Ren shifted back from the grate before Thomas noticed where he was staring.
---
The vents eventually opened to a narrow service hall. Aris jumped down first, then Thomas, then Ren.
“Where now?” Ren asked softly.
Aris pointed down the corridor. “There’s more. Offices. Records. Stuff we’re not supposed to see.”
“Good.” Ren’s voice was calm. Flat. “Lead the way.”
Because the deeper they went, the more Ren understood just how badly everything was about to fall apart.
---
Ren slipped out of the dorm without a sound, the door sliding shut behind him. The halls were dim, most lights lowered to a faint glow. Cameras sat like unblinking eyes in every corner, but he moved slow, hugging shadows.
A soft flutter broke the silence.
“You’re late,” Kuro murmured from above. The crow perched on a railing, feathers blending into the dark.
Ren froze, then let out a shaky breath. “How the hell did you get in?”
Kuro tilted his head. “I didn’t. I just… came.”
Ren blinked. “Came?”
The crow vanished.
Ren flinched back—then nearly cursed out loud when Kuro was suddenly perched on the floor rail beside him, feathers barely rustling.
“Like that.”
Ren stared. “...You can just teleport?”
Kuro clicked his beak softly, smug. “Apparently.”
---
They moved together—Ren creeping through empty halls, Kuro blinking in and out of existence, always somehow one step ahead.
“You’re enjoying this,” Ren whispered.
“Of course,” Kuro replied, hopping onto his shoulder. “You, breaking rules? Sneaking around like some half-trained spy? How thrilling.”
Ren shot him a glare but didn’t respond.
---
He found an unlocked door, the kind that looked boring enough to be unguarded. Inside was a control room—empty, quiet, lined with maps and monitors.
Ren’s eyes widened. He slipped in quickly, pulling up the maps on a console. Schematics, layouts, hallways leading deeper underground. He scanned the lines, tracing possible paths, memorizing key junctions.
“Ah yes,” Kuro said dryly, perched atop the console. “The one person who cannot walk in a straight line is the one learning the maps. Wonderful plan.”
“Shut up,” Ren muttered, committing as much as he could to memory.
---
Footsteps echoed faintly in the hall. Ren killed the screen and slid into the shadows just as two figures passed the doorway—guards, armed, murmuring quietly.
He held his breath until they were gone.
---
For the next hour, Ren moved silently, mapping out corridors, checking doors, slipping past security cameras. Kuro blinked in and out, scouting ahead, always reappearing just before Ren rounded a corner.
By the time he returned to the dorm, he knew two possible escape routes, three locked rooms that were worth checking later, and that the entire place felt wrong.
He slid into his bunk quietly. Kuro perched nearby, for once silent.
Neither of them slept.