"So, time is up! Pencils down!"
A wave of dull thuds echoed across the massive classroom as students set their pencils aside in near-perfect unison.
Fifteen columns. Twenty rows.
Three hundred desks.
Nearly every head was shaved—uniform, disciplined, identical.
…Except one.
A single girl sat among them, her longer hair falling over her face as she slept through the final seconds of the exam.
Around her, tension lingered.
Some students leaned back in relief.
Others clenched their jaws in frustration.
At the front, the thin, sharp-eyed instructor barked again, voice cutting through the room.
"Hands off your papers!"
As the final second hit—
Zero.
Every student flipped their paper over and slid it forward onto the marked rectangle at the top of their desks.
Ding
Ding
Ding
Panels across the desks lit up green.
The overhead lights surged back on—restored only after submission to prevent cheating.
A faint blue glow followed.
Scanning.
Each sheet was analyzed instantly, transmitted to the Head Teacher's system as the State Issued Artificial Intelligence—S.I.A.I—began grading.
Spelling.
Punctuation.
Structure.
Placement.
Errors were highlighted in real time.
Scores calculated.
Ranks assigned.
Names updated.
To the students, it was routine.
Predictable.
Controlled.
But unseen—
Another system was watching.
A second intelligence.
S.A.I.
It wasn't grading.
It was selecting.
Every story written during the exam was analyzed—not for correctness, but for creativity, unpredictability… deviation.
And those who stood out—
Were marked.
Time stretched.
A half-hour wait.
Some students immediately slumped forward, asleep.
Others quietly pulled out small puzzles, killing time in silence.
Normal behavior.
Expected behavior.
But not everyone was normal.
Four students—positioned far from one another—shifted.
Subtle.
Controlled.
Their attention moved toward the same person.
The sleeping girl.
They didn't acknowledge each other directly.
Three of them quickly masked their interest, scanning the room casually.
Bored.
Uninvolved.
Watching everything.
The fourth didn't bother hiding.
He leaned back slightly.
Relaxed.
Calm.
His eyes slowly blinked—
Then changed.
Slitted.
Sharp.
Dragon-like.
He wasn't looking at her.
Not exactly.
He was watching something else.
Something invisible.
Distortions in the air.
Waves… bleeding off her sleeping form.
The others felt it too.
Because of their training.
Because they knew what to look for.
And because they knew—
She wasn't normal.
What comes to mind when you think of a story?
Something bright?
Something adventurous?
…Or something dark?
Maybe something that makes your skin crawl.
Or your heart race.
Or your face burn.
The human mind is different for everyone.
Perspective.
Processing speed.
Emotion.
Fear.
Love.
Reaction.
No two are the same.
But let me ask you something.
What does it mean to be a species?
Is it similarity?
Uniformity?
Sameness?
Then what happens…
When someone is different?
Truly different?
Are they still human?
Or something else entirely?
If no one can explain what they are—
If no one can teach them—
If no one even recognizes them—
Then what are they?
A mistake?
An evolution?
A hidden truth?
Tell me—
Why are you afraid of the dark?
But trust the light?
Why did your "invisible friend" disappear?
Or did it?
Why do we trust instincts…
But forget where they came from?
That voice in your head.
The one that warns you.
The one that comforts you.
The one that knows.
What if it isn't just you?
What if…
You were never alone?
Everyone is born with something.
A presence.
A watcher.
A protector.
A soldier of the soul.
They stay in the shadows.
They whisper.
They guide.
They wait.
And when something happens—
Something terrible—
Something unfair—
Don't we call it…
Karma?
But tell me this.
If no one sees it happen—
If no one can prove it—
Then how…
Does Karma work?
Coincidence?
…Or something watching from the dark?