Inside the Faction,
life went on.
Routines were carried out.
Instructions were read.
Schedules were followed.
But it was all skin.
Empty.
Creaking under the pressure
that no one dared name.
Lunch was served on time.
But there was no taste.
Not because the food was bad—
because their tongues no longer believed
that they lived for more than just chewing.
Education went on.
Children memorized lessons about the center.
About the one truth.
About perfect unity.
But in between notes,
children drew.
Not a rebellion.
Just three strokes.
Silent.
Thin.
Hidden in the corner of a sheet,
under a desk,
behind a friend's back.
The surveillance system recorded anomalies:
- Citizens began to sit longer in empty streets.
- Production units decreased despite all procedures being followed.
- The conversation rate between citizens dropped.
They did not fight back.
They did not go out.
They are simply drying up from within.
A secret report leaked:
