I should’ve let it go. Should’ve dropped it into that mental pit where strange things go to die.

But my thoughts wouldn’t obey.

I entered my quarters and poured myself a cup of water from the tin pitcher, the metallic taste already ghosting my tongue. That’s when I saw shraddha with something—on my bed.

A book.

No—a sketchbook.

Real leather. Creamy, untouched pages fanned out beneath her fingertips, which skimmed them like they were sacred.

Shraddha sat cross-legged, her frame curled like a question mark, her gaze fixed on the pages as if afraid they’d vanish if she blinked.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, voice catching in her throat like it had forgotten how to hope. “Smells like... old rain.”

I blinked. Took a step closer.

It was too beautiful. The kind of beautiful that didn’t exist here. Not among steel walls and rations and silence.

“Where did you get this?” I asked, my voice low, careful.

Shraddha looked up, startled—like I’d yanked her out of a dream.

Her fingers hovered above the page, as if guilty for touching something so delicate.

“In the hallway,” she said, her brows knitting. “It was just... there. Outside the door. Someone left it”

She swallowed, her voice barely a breath. “I didn’t mean to pry. I thought—I mean, it had no name, just... lying there.”

"Did-"

The chime cut me off.  

A sharp, piercing sound, followed by the cold, mechanical voice of the Zypherian system.

"Companion Program initiated. Selected females report to the Grand Hall immediately."

My stomach turned to stone.

I closed my eyes for a second, letting the voice echo inside my skull like a curse.

I hated this part.

Every single time.

My thoughts drifted to the girls who’d go numb tonight.

The ones who would sit alone in the dark, listening for footsteps.

The ones who’d pretend not to care while silently praying their bands wouldn’t light up.

The ones who’d throw up from the panic.

The ones who’d leave, shoulders straight, pretending they chose this.

My chest ached.

I hated this system. I hated that we’d normalized it. That the chime sounded like just another announcement, like it wasn’t the end for someone.

And then—

Shraddha’s band pulsed.

A single word blinking in cruel clarity:

COMPANION.

Her breath hitched.

Mine refused to return.

The sketchbook lay open between us, pages fluttering slightly from the vibrations in the floor. Like it, too, had heard the call.

Time stopped. Or maybe I did.

My eyes locked on that word. That cursed, monstrous word.

I turned to Shraddha, my sister, my responsibility, and saw the color drain from her face.

The thought of her being paired with an alien, subjected to the horror she will face, was unbearable.

No.

No

My chest cracked.

Shraddha face flickered—no, it fractured—and I was no longer in that our room. I was somewhere else.

Years ago.

The walls were peeling. The fan creaked overhead like it, too, was tired of pretending.

Ma lay on the cot, wrapped in her thinning shawl, her breath rattling like dried leaves in the wind.

Ma had turned to me—her eyes glassy, voice a whisper made of threadbare air.

"When I am gone...You being the eldest have to look after each other"

I’d nodded. Stupidly. Fiercely. Like promises were stronger than death.

I blinked back into the now

Shraddha still hadn't moved.Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.

I dropped to my knees beside her, grabbing her wrist, staring at that blinking word like I could unwill it away.

My hands trembled as I cupped her face. “You’re not going.”

“Ruby—”

“I’ll find a way. There’s always a way. We’ll—hide. Fake a glitch. Trade bands. Run. Anything. I’ll talk to Mira, she has access to—”

The chime echoed again. Louder. Sharper. Less patient.

Her band pulsed harder. Brighter.

The Zypherian voice returned, colder this time:

“Failure to report will result in disciplinary action.”

Shraddha flinched.

Like she'd been struck.

Her shoulders sagged.

A thousand thoughts screamed through my skull, but only one made sense.

I couldn’t let this happen.

I wouldn’t.

If it had been me, I’d have survived. Maybe. I was older. Meaner. Less soft.

But Shraddha?

They’d eat her alive.

I have to take her place.

“We’re switching bands,” I said, already moving.

Shraddha recoiled, panic flaring. “Ruby, no. No—you can’t—”

“I’m not asking.”

Her hands gripped mine, desperate. “They’ll know, Ruby. They’ll scan—”

“They scan bands. Not faces. We’re not people to them, Shraddha. Just data. As long as the band reads ‘Companion,’ that’s all they care about.”

 “You don’t know that. You don’t know what they'll do to you—”

“No, I don’t.” My voice cracked, but I pushed through it. “But I’m not letting them take you.”

Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “Please don’t do this.”

I reached for her wrist. “I have to.”

“Ruby—”

I pulled her close, holding her like I used to when she had nightmares, when she’d crawl into my bed and tuck herself under my arm, believing I could keep the monsters away.

I lied to her then too.

“I’ll be okay,” I murmured, the words a bitter lullaby.

I could feel her shaking. Her breath shallow, chest heaving against mine. But after a long, silent moment, she nodded.

We switched the bands. The cold metal pressed into my skin like a shackle.

And just like that, I became her.

Shraddha collapsed into my arms again, but I couldn’t hold her long. The guards would come soon if the selected ones don't show up. They always did.

I pulled away slowly, memorizing her face. The slope of her brows. The faint scar on her chin from falling off her bike. The smallest things felt suddenly urgent.

The companions lived in another sector and rarely gets to meet with family members.

I didn’t look back as I stepped toward the door.

Because I couldn’t afford to break. Not yet.