Delta Seventeen

It was already late into the night. The forest echoed with the haunting calls of an owl and the faint rustling of nocturnal birds. We had stumbled upon an old, rusted-over canopy, not far from the river, and decided to take shelter beneath it for the night. Staying with Eron would've been too dangerous — his cabin, exposed on open land, far easier to spot than this forgotten corner of the woods.

The canopy stood deep in the forest, overgrown with brambles and high grass that veiled it from prying eyes — and, hopefully, from the Nortons. Once lit by the warm hues of a setting sun, the land was now cloaked in silver, bathed under the pale light of a full moon. The river nearby murmured softly, a soothing lull, guiding us to this unexpected sanctuary. The wind had begun to rise, its breath growing sharper, colder.

My head rested beside Merlin's. Our bodies lay close, wrapped in a single makeshift blanket forged by tying our own together. The chill in the air clung to our skin, but nothing was colder than the heaviness coiled in my chest.

Though my eyes were closed, my mind refused to sleep. It was too awake — frantically, painfully awake. Every time I tried to drift off, the darkness behind my eyelids would unravel into a kaleidoscope of images I couldn't command.

Fragments. Shards.Mirrors shattered across the floor of my mind.A child.Metal corridors.White walls smudged with shadows.Glass, behind which faceless watchers observed, cold and unmoved.Blood. Crying.A voice — male, calm, emotionless. Perhaps Gordon's.

"Subject 17 is showing exceptional progress. Begin Phase Three."

I jolted upright, gasping as if I had just burst from beneath water. My undershirt clung to me, soaked in sweat. The night air scraped against my damp skin like knives. My hand shot instinctively to the knife in my pocket. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

That was when Merlin stirred. She looked at me and placed a hand gently on mine. I returned the touch.

She didn't ask anything. She didn't need to. Her eyes were hollow, lost. There were shadows in them — the kind that never sleep.

My thoughts kept spinning, like the crumbling ruins of memory collapsing inward, kicking up dust and ash behind them.

"I remember the lab," I whispered, my voice barely more than air. "There were so many of us. Children. They didn't train us — they programmed us. Told us we were learning, but… they made us kill. Each other."

Merlin leaned in, the moonlight painting her face in silver, highlighting the sharp lines and the deep circles beneath her eyes — no longer hidden by youth.

"I remember Roi," she said softly. "Not everything. Just… flashes. He always looked back when they took someone. Always. He looked at us. At me."

She fell silent. I felt the tension ripple through her body, something breaking in the stillness.

"I saw him once," she said at last, her voice slower, heavy. "Afterwards. We were in a large chamber. He was upset, furious. Arguing with the Nortons. I think Eron was there too, off to the side. And then…"

Her eyes widened, and she stood abruptly.

"I remember! They took him outside! Not long after that — you disappeared."

She turned away, her gaze fixed on the forest shadows. Her hand trembled as it settled on her holster. Always ready.

"They made us to survive, Devin… but not to feel. And definitely not to question."

I looked down at my hands. Hands trained to hold weapons. Hands that had once, perhaps, held someone else's — maybe Roi's. Each new memory cast a shadow over the last, layering meaning and doubt in equal measure.

We had been walking for days without a destination, chasing whispers of a community that might hold answers. That might hold him.

And then I saw it.

At first glance, it was just a tangled clearing — roots, cracked slabs of concrete, forgotten soil. But among the decay, one thing stopped me cold.

A swing.

Rusty and half-collapsed, it clung to a gnarled tree that had barely survived the years. My breath caught in my throat.

"Are you okay?" Merlin asked gently.

"I'm not sure. This place… I think I remember it."

She followed me, carefully, her footsteps mirroring mine. My mind was racing — fragments, impressions, memories flickering in and out.

I stepped closer as if in a trance. My legs felt heavy, but the sensation — familiar. My knees buckled, and I knelt to the leaf-littered ground. I pushed aside the thorns and brittle twigs, and then I saw it.

Δ17

It was carved faintly into the metal, barely visible beneath layers of rust and grime.

My designation. My name. Then.

I gasped, sharp and sudden, like someone awakening after a long, unnatural sleep.The place opened in me — a door I had kept locked for years, buried beneath manufactured memories.

"Do you see this?" I asked Merlin, pointing.

She knelt beside me and brushed aside more dirt and debris.

"Δ12," she murmured, stunned.

"How did I not remember this before?" she whispered, standing slowly. "Can a chip really have that much control over us?"

I rose beside her. "They didn't want us to remember. If we did, we might ask about our parents. We'd want to go home. They needed us to believe we were theirs."

"It makes sense," Merlin nodded. "That's why we always said they were our family. They told us they were."

I sat on the swing, slowly. Merlin settled on the ground beside me, a small, aching smile on her face.

"I was so little. Maybe six, seven. I remember sitting right there. There were other kids. We thought we were just… special, choosen ones, and you — you were there too. The girl with curly hair, watching me from the shadows. Just like now."

I smiled at her, seeing not the woman beside me, but the girl she once was — the one who had been there at the beginning.

"I told you not to do it," she laughed gently. "Told you you'd get in trouble. You didn't care. I kept pulling your hand — but you kept doing what you wanted."

She stood over me, brushed the hair from my face. I looked up at her, my eyes burning.

Tears spilled — thick, silent, as if they'd taken years to reach this moment.

Merlin crouched down beside me. She didn't speak. Just placed her hand on mine.

Silence.

Only the wind whispered through the leaves.

"It was the first thing I ever created there," I whispered. "Not a drawing. Not a toy. A number. A mark that I existed."

"And that's enough, Devin," Merlin said quietly. "It's still here. It's part of something we're going to build now. We know the truth — we'll use it."She paused."Against them."

Faces flickered in my mind — children I might have loved, but whose names I no longer remembered. Only their eyes.

Roi's memory passed like a shadow — his dark, steady gaze meeting mine.

Then Merlin broke the silence.

"They didn't take everything from us, Devin. You still know who you are."

I looked at her. And then, suddenly — it broke.

A flood of memories. A flash of truth.

"Merlin, this is where it all started," I gasped, grabbing her shirt. "That night… I don't know if it was winter or spring, but I remember it was quiet. I was playing in my room. My mother was cooking."

I spoke, distant, as Merlin listened — every word absorbed like water on dry earth.

"They came. Spoke to her. She welcomed them. Smiling. Roi was there too — my uncle. She hugged me, told me I was being sent for an education…"

"Same here," Merlin whispered. "We were poor. My parents wanted a better life for me…"

She exhaled deeply. I stood, brushed the dust from my pants.

"We should go. Night's falling."

"You're right. Let's move."

We walked deeper into the forest, our search for truth echoing in every step.

"There were so many of us," I murmured. "I was so scared when they brought us in. I just wanted to go home."

"I remember," Merlin said. "I think I saw you. Wanted to reach for your hand. Maybe it would've made things easier."

Silence returned between us — but inside me, a storm.

I remembered the white room.Walls. Floor. Light.The sign: Norton Genesis Facility — UNIT 4

That day, I stopped being Devin.

They shaved my hair. Gave me the uniform. The number.

Δ17.

"From now on, you are Subject Delta Seventeen. Your personal name is no longer relevant."

Gordon's voice. Cold. 

"There were thirty of us that first night. Some cried. Some screamed for their parents. Most were quiet. Maybe they already knew. Maybe they had already broken. You were so calm," I said, looking at Merlin.

"I remember. Even your hair seemed to glow under those white lights."

"Oh, Devin…" she whispered, gently brushing my hand.

In the weeks that followed, every day was the same: training, injections, testing. Simulations. No emotion. No names.

Rewards for silence. Punishment for tears.

Some disappeared.

At first, we asked. Later — we didn't even look when they were taken.

Trying to say your real name?

That brought pain.

Isolation.

Or worse.

Names vanished like smoke underwater.

But now I know — I am Devin.I was a child.I had a life.I was someone.

No longer just a number.Not just a subject.

Now — I am a reminder.

That I exist.

That I remember.

And that one day soon…They will remember us, too.