She hesitated. Then whispered, “Yes.”

She reached out. Her finger hovered.

Mira had been counting the cracks in the ceiling for 407 days. The room was a perfect cube of darkness—no windows, one steel door that never opened, and a single overhead light that hadn’t worked since before she arrived.

She laughed—a hollow, breaking sound. “That’s insane.”

The screen displayed a single button: .