The order surprised me, but I decided to follow it. In this place, you didn’t ask questions—at least not the kind that drew too much attention. I returned to my quarters and gathered all my personal belongings. There weren’t many: a worn comb, a thin notebook with a few scribbled pages, a plastic cup, and the communicator, still lying in the same spot—silent and cold. Regardless, I slipped it into my pocket. Something told me it might still come in handy.

I made my way back to the assembly hall. Other Class D members had gathered there too—around twenty in total. Some looked confused, others exhausted, and a few… as if they had simply given up.

Then, a scientist I didn’t recognize entered the room. He wore no name tag, which in itself was unsettling. He stood in front of us and suddenly spoke:

— Dear Class D, management has decided to release you early. Please proceed to Sector One. A guard will lead you from there.

At first, I didn’t know what to think. It sounded too good, too sudden… too unnatural. But no one said a word. No one asked why now. We just followed the guard like sheep led to the slaughter. I did too.

In Sector One, another guard was already waiting. He ordered us to leave our belongings in lockers, then told us to split into two equal groups. We did so wordlessly, though the tension in the air was almost tangible. Then each group was taken into separate rooms, supposedly to wait for transport.

That’s when it began.

A hissing sound echoed from the upper edges of the walls—it resembled the sound of leaking gas. In an instant, panic erupted in the room. People began screaming, pounding their fists on the door, trying to force it open, but it was no use. Nothing could budge that kind of construction.

Then I felt it… a metallic taste in my mouth. Bitter. Strangely familiar. Bitter like… almonds.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, I remembered something from childhood—a moment when my mother took me to the hospital to have my tonsils removed. I remembered the white of the room, the sound of medical instruments, and that strange feeling that something was about to end.

Someone beside me started praying. Others were crying, choking, collapsing one by one onto the floor.

I began to lose consciousness. My vision blurred. The last thing I remembered was that unbearable taste—bitter and chemical—spreading down my throat.

I woke up only after what felt like an eternity. Maybe an hour. Maybe two. I had no idea. But one thing I knew for certain—I was alive.
And I… shouldn’t have been.

My heart pounded like a drum. I kept my eyes shut, breathing shallowly, as if I were still unconscious. I could hear footsteps. Voices.

— Finally… At least we’re done with them.
— Don’t get too happy. We’ll have to do this all over again next month.
— Shut up. Let’s get them out of here.

I didn’t move. I felt hands grabbing my shoulders, lifting me onto a gurney. My body was limp, but my mind was racing. Every second took me farther from the termination room. They pushed me through corridors, surrounded by ominous silence.

Eventually, we stopped. I heard a metallic scrape, then more shuffling. And then… warmth. Something soft beneath my back. Someone had just dumped me.

I waited. Waited for the voices to vanish, for the footsteps to fade into the dark. Only then did I open my eyes.

I was lying on the body of another Class D. Dead.

The skin was cold, the eyes lifeless, the arms twisted unnaturally. I stood up so suddenly it felt like a lightning bolt hit me. My breathing was ragged. My heart thundered in my ears. I was alive.

But at what cost?