The Institute 03 Self Reflections

Chapter Three: Self Reflections

The door slid shut behind Ser with a soft hiss after she stepped though. She stood there for a moment, her eyes adjusting to the strange environment.

The room was hexagonal in shape, with walls made entirely of mirrors. They stretched from floor to ceiling, creating infinite reflections of her on every side. The way her image seemed to bounce back and forth, overlapping and multiplying, was disorienting. The effect made the space feel larger than it really was but all of the reflections made it feel crowded.

In the middle of the room, standing out against the glossy, reflective surfaces, was a single desk. Minimalist, sleek, and clinical, it matched the odd aesthetic of the entire facility. On the desk was a data-comm pad, its screen dark. No other furniture, no decor--just the pad and her reflections staring back at her from every angle.

Before she could gather her thoughts, a woman's voice filled the room, smooth and professional, but with an unsettling edge.

"Welcome, Seraphine Voss, to the Scientific Research Institute."

The voice sounded too personal, as though whoever was speaking was a friend that had known her for years. It didn't surprise Ser that they knew her name, after all, she was here for the internship. But the familiarity set her on edge.

"Please, take a seat at the desk, and click on the pad to begin your interview."

Ser tensed, startled by the suddenness of it all. She hadn't even had time to take in the strangeness of room before the voice was pushing her forward. Her eyes darted around, searching for speakers or a source of the voice, but all she saw was herself. Her reflections stared back at her from different angles wherever she looked, their eyes wide with uncertainty.

She hesitated, glancing at the desk, then back at her reflection. The mirrors made her feel extremely exposed, every move she made was being watched. But not by another person, by endless versions of herself. It was unnerving.

She stared at one of her reflections in the mirrored wall. A tall, curvy woman with dark, shortly cropped hair stared back. Her bangs framing a face that still held its softness, though life in The Zoo had chipped away at some of it. Her eyes were dark brown and intelligent, but they looked tired. They had seen too much, had weathered too many of the city's storms, and the weight of the struggle for survival had settled deep into her gaze. There was strength in her, but it was the kind of strength born from necessity, not choice. Her posture was stiff, not out of pride but from always having to be ready--ready for the next fight, the next betrayal, the next of the Zoo's evil little surprises.

Her reflections stared back silently, each one with a slight variation of her movements, almost mimicking her in a menacing way. She could see her wariness reflected a hundredfold, the cautious tension in the way her shoulders squared and her hands twitched at her sides. It made her feel small, vulnerable, as if each version of herself in the mirrors was silently questioning the decision to step through that door. The voice came again, softer but no less authoritative.

"Please, Seraphine. Take a seat."

Ser clenched her fists briefly and slowly took a deep breather in trying to ground herself. She wasn't going to let a disembodied voice or some fancy mirror tricks rattle her. This was just an interview, she told herself, it's just part of the process. Whatever this was--whatever SRI wanted--it couldn't be worse than living in The Zoo.

Slowly, she moved over to the desk, her eyes flicking between the mirrored walls and the data-comm pad. Each step felt amplified by the silence. She sat down in the simple chair. As she did, her reflections echoed her and sat as well and then seemed to close in around her, creating a strange, claustrophobic effect.

The data-comm pad remained dark, her fingers hovered over it as if it might come to life any second. The voice, calm and unwavering, filled the room once more.

"Please tap on the pad to begin, Seraphine"

Ser's hand trembled slightly as she reached for the data-comm, her eyes flicking again to the mirrored versions of herself on all sides. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, then tapped the pad.

The data-comm flickered to life with a dim glow. Ser stared at the screen as the words appeared, each letter crisp and sharp against the pale blue background.

Welcome to the SRI Internship Psychological Evaluation.

Please answer the following questions honestly. Your responses will be used to assess your suitability for this position.

Ser's stomach tightened. Psychological evaluation? She hadn't really expected this. She guessed it made sense for a place like SRI. Rich companies always seemed obsessed with knowing everything about their applicants.

The feeling of being watched increased with her own distorted reflections staring back at her waiting for her to begin. Ser took another breath and tapped the screen.

The first question appeared.

1. Have you ever lied to avoid getting in trouble? Yes / No

Her finger hovered over the screen for a moment. This was simple. Who hadn't lied at some point? She tapped

Yes.

After she answered, the lights in the room shifted, subtly growing dimmer. It wasn't enough to be jarring, just enough for Ser to notice the shadows deepen on her reflections in the mirror. Her eyes looked darker, sharper in the dim light.

2. Have you ever stolen something, no matter how small? Yes / No

Ser's jaw tightened. In The Zoo, you didn't survive without bending the rules. She'd taken things before, nothing major, but enough to get by. She tapped

Yes.

The light shifted again, this time growing warmer, casting an orange hue over the mirrored walls. She glanced at her reflections--her skin looked different in this light, rougher, more worn, like the years had taken more from her than they really had. Her fingers twitched as she looked back to the next questions on the screen.

3. Have you ever witnessed a crime and not reported it? Yes / No

Her heart sank a little. In The Zoo, crime wasn't something you reported. It was part of the scenery, woven into life like the cracks in the walls and the grime in the air. She tapped

Yes

again.

4. Have you ever hurt someone, physically or emotionally, on purpose? Yes / No

Ser hesitated, her eyes catching one of the multiple reflections. The mirrored version of her seemed colder, harsher than she felt. But she tapped

No

. She wasn't the type to really go looking for trouble, even when trouble found her.

5. Do you trust those closest to you? Yes / No

The question lingered on the screen longer than the others. Trust. That was a tricky thing. She thought of Naomi, one of the few people she'd let in over the years. Could she really say she trusted anyone completely? She tapped

No

.

The light above dimmed suddenly, making her reflections blur into the shadows. The walls seemed to close in a bit, as though the room itself were changing around her.

6. Have you ever regretted not helping someone in need? Yes / No

Her mind flicked back to the lower levels, the times she'd seen people in need and kept walking. Regret was a familiar feeling. She tapped

Yes

without hesitation.

As she did, the light shifted once more--this time, casting a pale, almost sickly green. Her reflections in the mirror warped slightly, the color changing her face into something more hollow, more gaunt. She blinked, shaking off the strange sensation, and continued.

7. Have you ever feared for your life? Yes / No

Ser laughed a little at that. Ser thought of the nights she'd spent listening to the sounds of violence outside her door, the times when she'd felt the weight of survival pressing down like a vice. The times she felt someone or something following her lat at night. She tapped

Yes

.

The lights grew dimmer again, casting longer shadows across her features. The mirrors reflected her from different angles, each version of her now looking slightly different in the fading light--some more weary, some more defiant. She felt herself growing uneasy.

8. Do you believe people are inherently good? Yes / No

Ser scoffed. Good? No one in The Zoo had time to be good. She tapped

No

without a second thought.

9. Do you think everyone deserves a second chance? Yes / No

The question seemed heavier than the rest. A second chance? What did that even mean in a place like this? The city didn't give out second chances. She thought of herself--of how she'd spent years surviving, hoping for some kind of break. Was this a second chance? She still wouldn't let herself believe that it was. She tapped

No

.

10. Have you ever lied to someone who trusted you? Yes / No

Her chest tightened at the question. There had been times of course, small lies, things she hadn't wanted to admit to those who mattered. So she tapped

Yes

.

The light changed again, this time casting her reflection in a brighter, almost sterile white. Her face looked unfamiliar, like a version of herself she didn't recognize. The slight warps in the mirrors made her reflections taller, thinner, sharper.

11. Have you ever been in a situation where you feared for someone else's life? Yes / No

Her heart thumped as she remembered moments in The Zoo, when she had seen others in danger and been powerless to help. She tapped

Yes

, her fingers trembling slightly from adrenaline.

12. Do you believe people can change? Yes / No

Ser hesitated. Could people change? She wanted to believe it, but the city had shown her too many times that people were stuck in their patterns, their survival instincts too deeply ingrained. She tapped

No

.

13. Have you ever taken something that wasn't yours because you felt entitled to it Yes / No

Ser thought back to times when she'd had no choice, when necessity blurred the line between right and wrong. But she wasnt sure if that was exactly what they were asking. Sighing she tapped

Yes

.

14. Do you think you are a good person? Yes / No

The final question sat on the screen like a weight. Ser stared at it for what felt like forever. Was she a good person? She wasn't sure. Survival hadn't left room for morality.

She glanced at her reflections again, each version of herself looking back with a totally different expression, all having a different doubt. She tapped

No

.

As she answered the last question, the lights shifted once more, this time growing dimmer, the shadows in the room deepening. Her reflections flickered as if they were coming to life, each one distorted just enough to unsettle her. She looked away quickly, trying to shake off the eerie feeling crawling up her spine.

The pad stayed silent for a moment, the room still except for her own breathing. Ser rubbed her hands together, her palms sweaty, her heart still racing from the uncomfortable questions. She hadn't expected something so personal, so invasive. What was all of this leading too?