Content Warnings:

​Physical Disability: Chronic Pain (Hip Injury)

​Ableism & Verbal Abuse

​Phobias: Being Watched (Scopophobia), Claustrophobia, Loud Noises, Mirrors (Eisoptrophobia/Spectrophobia)

​Mature Themes: Mentions of the human trade, XVII Omens organization.

​The world we all knew is a dead dream. It’s ruined, run by doppelgängers, and us humans are at the bottom of the food chain.

​Today is February 1, 2026. My name is Matthan Null. I am twenty-three years old, and I’m sitting in a lobby, waiting to hear about a job. Around me, I see doppelgängers and a few humans—at least, I believe they are humans. I keep my hand buried in my pocket, gripping a worn picture of my mom.

​Mom gives me strength, I whisper to myself.

​"Null!"

​The voice cuts through the lobby like a blade. I look up and see Payton Blackthorne.

​You can tell immediately that he’s a doppelgänger. As the Lead Operator for the XVII Omens, he carries an aura of absolute, cold authority. He is the one who handles the "inventory" for his brother’s organization, and to him, I’ve always been nothing more than a faulty piece of equipment.

​I stand up slowly, favoring my leg. My old injury always flares up when I’m nervous, the chronic ache in my hip a constant reminder of what I've survived. As I walk past the others in the lobby, I lock eyes with one of the entities. It licks its lips, watching me like I’m a meal.

​Shit. Don’t look. Calm down. You got this, Matthan.

​We reach a private room. Payton doesn't sit; he stands, looming over the space. "Someone is interested in having you work for her," he says. His tone isn't just mean—it’s the chilling, calculated coldness of a man who knows exactly what a human is worth on the market.

​I nod. "Okay."

​"It’s on Highway 13. A place called Lived," he says, handing me an old yellow phone. I nod again, my select mutism making it hard to find the words. Payton eyes my leg, his lip curling with a flick of Blackthorne disdain.

​"I doubt you’ll last a week. The XVII Omens don't usually deal in 'damaged' goods, Null. Between the hip and the head... you're a liability." He checks his watch, dismissing me before I can even breathe. "Get out. I'll have the transport ready."

​He walks out, and for a split second, I see him glance at a dark corner of the hall where a shadow—a young man with wide, fearful eyes—is waiting. His Little Fawn. Payton’s expression doesn't soften, but his hand lingers on the doorframe as if guarding the path.

​The door shuts, and almost immediately, the phone in my hand begins to ring. A chill runs through me. I pick it up.

​"Hi, Matthan. My name is Luz, your boss," she says. Her voice is sweet, but there is something deeply unsettling underneath it.

​"Mmm," I manage to grunt.

​"Oh dear, you don't have to be nervous, sweetie. Now, I’ll have Payton drive you here, but there are some things you need to know before you get to Store 9. First, Colton is going to be there. My dear Colton is in charge, so you have to listen to everything he says."

​She pauses, her voice dropping into a serious, dark tone.

​"Colton has gone through a few employees... well, because they stopped showing up to work. You aren't to leave the store. You’ll have sleeping quarters there. The gas station side is... very different." She laughs, and the sound sends shivers down my spine.

​"I’ll call to check in. Maybe sometime I can come down and make you a pie. I'll call soon, Matthan... don't break the rules."

​She hangs up with a manic laugh. I feel sick with fear, but this job is all I have. If I don't do this, I’ll perish.