The light chimes of the bell stir me from my sleep.

Sitting up in my cot, I stretch my arms and yawn as the others start their day much the same.

Jive is already up.

I never see him sleep all that much.

Maybe whatever SCP fried his brain and made him speak incoherently

also affected his sleeping patterns.

Or maybe he was always like that.

We don't talk to each other about our past lives before D-class, especially not me.

The heathes solarium mounts upon thy own caffeination.

Good morning to you too, Jive.

He takes a bottle of water from the cooler and steps outside to rinse his mouth.

Callie grins at me from across the room.

She's already changed into her orange uniform with D-297 prominently displayed over her shoulder. The grin falters as she makes eye contact with me.

He's going to be fine. Don't worry. He'll be back soon. Callie can read thoughts by making eye

contact, but her skills are stronger the better she knows someone. I guess since I don't have any memories before waking up in a D-class holding cell, it made

the process easier.

She barely has to try to know my thoughts are on Bender.

If our small circle of test subjects has a leader, it's Bender.

A gruff man with a network of scars all over his body, Bender's a prisoner

just like the rest of us. But that doesn't stop him from rebelling against the foundation

in his own creative ways. While he likes to pretend he doesn't care about anyone but jive,

he's taken it upon himself to protect our little makeshift crew, like when he killed a sadistic

...