| Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3.1 |
Renata emerges from the train, and approaches the confident stranger. She
looks him over, and then around the platform as the train races away to pick
up new travelers. It looks just like any other station, except the stairs
that should lead up to the surface are missing. Instead, a half-flight leads
to what looks like a fairly open area. It’s lit by a soft green light. She
can hear the activity of other workers, but it’s fairly quiet. “You hijacked
my train.”
“No,” the man contends, “you stepped onto my train.”
“A hundred and eighth and Deliverer?”
“That’s just to get you on the right train. But enough about that.” He
gestures for her to follow him up the steps. “I will not be telling you my
name unless and until you pass the first test. Whether you expected it or
not, your entry into this program is determined by a practical test, which
you could not have studied for, unlike the written exam that got you here in
the first place. We are a secretive organization, obviously, and we’re not
going to trust you with those secrets until we find out what you’re made of.
In the old days, we would have our candidates sit in a waiting room, where a
contrived disaster would strike, and they would have to solve the problem in
whatever way they thought was best. They were in no real danger, but they
thought they were, so they acted accordingly. Of course, some failed, and
some excelled. We’ve since changed tactics.”
“Changed tactics to what?” she asks him.
He holds his hand up in front of the open door, offering her to walk in
first, to a room where two other people are waiting. “We decided that it’s
okay to warn you that it’s coming.” He places his hand on the handle, and
prepares to close it with him still on the outside. “The danger is real,
Miss Granger. If you fail, you could die. Good luck, you three.” He shuts
the door.
Renata spins back around, and begins to assess the room. The other two were
sitting, but now stand and tense up. So many potential threats here. The
floor is a metal grate, which could be housing hidden flame-throwers
underneath. The vents could release a noxious gas into the air. The
sprinkler system on the ceiling could drop caustic acid onto their skin. Or
the pipes are just holding water, and that loose wiring hanging from the
broken outlet is primed to electrocute them. There’s a cot, a table, two
chairs, and a small dresser or nightstand. There’s also a sink, but she
doesn’t know if it’s functional yet. They have no idea what’s coming, but
protecting themselves from as many things as possible is paramount right
now. The other two look like lost little puppies, so she’s gonna have to
take charge. “Strip the bed. It looks like we have a fitted sheet, a top
sheet, and a pillow case.” She steps over to the sink to test it. Water
comes out. It smells fine. It doesn’t sting the back of her hand. It’s room
temperature. “Hand them to me.”
The two others do exactly what she says without question.
She runs the sheets under the water, and hands two of them back while she
keeps the pillow case. “Drape them over yourselves. Breathe through them in
case there’s smoke.”
They comply again.
“Get on the table.” As they’re doing that, Renata checks for poisonous
creatures underneath the mattress, then climbs onto the bed. “Okay. Any
minute now.” It turns out to be that very minute. They start to hear the
screeching of metal. The pipes on the opposite wall begin to shake. A scent
wafts over from them, which assaults her senses. She can’t place the smell,
though. It reminds her of rotten eggs. What is that? What smells like rotten
eggs. The other two begin breathing through the fabric. Whatever the poison
is, these sheets are probably not going to do them any good. She drops her
pillow case to the floor while she jumps over to one of the chairs. The
floor could still be dangerous, so she best not risk it.
Renata hops like a bunny over to the broken outlet. She takes out the gum
that her mother gave her, and smirks. They didn’t expect her to have this on
her person. She unwraps one stick, and lets it fall, because she only cares
about the wrapper. She forms it into a bow-tie shape, and prepares to place
it between the wires. “Stay covered,” she orders. Just as some kind of
powdery something or other bursts out of the pipe, she completes the
circuit. Electricity surges through the wrapper, and sets it on fire.
Knowing that it’s going to burn out before she can use it, she uses it like
a match to set the rest of the pack of gum aflame. It’s not going to last
long either, but just long enough. She hops off the chair, and onto the
nightstand. She holds it up to the sprinkler system, and before the flame
can burn out, the water is released. It’s not acid, so that’s good.
She smiles as she watches the water make contact with the powder, assuming
that it’s neutralizing it. It doesn’t seem to quite be doing that, though,
or at least not good enough. She’s now seeing a gas begin to fill the room.
Was it always there, or was the water somehow creating it? Then she starts
to cough, as do the other two candidates. It gets worse and worse as she
starts to feel like she’s going to die. Then she falls off the nightstand,
and lands hard on the floor.
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