Finn let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when he heard the soft click of the sleeper’s zipper unlocking. Relief washed over him as he quickly tugged the restrictive fabric down from his shoulders, his skin grateful for the cool air. But as he peeled the material back, his gaze dropped to the thick diaper encasing his lower half, and his stomach churned at the sight.

The swollen padding was discolored, sagging with its squishy, sodden contents. Worse yet, he could feel it clinging to his skin, his rear coated in mess, his bladder having soaked into the front, both of which were a humiliating reminder of his loss of control during the trial.

Finn grimaced, his cheeks burning with shame. He hesitated, unwilling to fully remove the sleeper and expose his embarrassing state to the others. Instead, he wrapped the loose sleeves tightly around his waist, leaving him standing in just the pajama-like pants and the bloated diaper beneath. With a deep breath, he pushed the discomfort aside and turned his attention to the screen that had just flickered to life. His bold and unmistakable number appeared under the heading Caregiver Assignments, along with two smaller numbers beneath it: 24 and 20.

Finn’s heart sank as his eyes lingered on the names he’d been assigned. Ivy—contestant 24—was one of them. He hadn’t spoken to her, but her determined crawl across the field was seared into his memory. Her crib had been next to his when he woke, and he had remembered her name.  He clenched his fists, the knot of shame and uncertainty in his stomach tightening. Finn knew that as a caregiver, the power dynamic had shifted in his favor, but he felt anything but in control. His mind raced, wondering what it would mean to care for others while struggling to come to terms with his humiliation. The trials weren’t just testing their endurance—they were breaking them, piece by piece.

Finn moved cautiously through the room, scanning for the two numbers under his care. His gaze landed on two girls standing awkwardly; their sleepers loosened enough to allow them to stand upright. Contestant 24 and another with the number 20 stitched across her chest were glancing around nervously, their faces pale. He approached them, forcing himself to ignore the crinkling sound of his soggy diaper as he walked. “Hey,” he said softly, offering a hand. “I’m Finn. You’re 24 and 20, right? I think we’re… assigned to each other.”

Ivy hesitated, her green eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. “Yeah,” she said finally, her voice wary. She glanced at the other girl, who looked younger and more timid. “I’m Ivy.”

Clara nodded shyly, brushing her dark hair back from her face. “Hi, I'm Clara,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Finn nodded, helping them steady themselves as they adjusted to standing. “We should get out of here,” he said, glancing toward a long, sterile hallway that stretched ahead them. Doors lined its sides, all firmly shut with no handles or visible ways to open them. As they began their slow walk, the tension between them thickened. Finn broke the silence first, his voice low but curious. “Do you guys… remember anything? Before waking up here?”

Ivy frowned, her hand brushing the smooth wall as they passed. “Not much,” she admitted. “I was walking home, and then…” She paused, her brow furrowing. “I felt this sharp pain, like a needle in my leg. Everything after that’s just… blank.”

Clara nodded beside her, clutching the sleeves of her sleeper. “Same for me,” she said quietly. “I was on my way to class, and then—” she mimicked a quick jab into her arm, wincing at the memory. “Nothing.”

Finn’s stomach tightened as he realized their stories mirrored his own. “I was at the park,” he said, his voice strained. “Just walking, and then—the same thing.”

They exchanged uneasy glances, the pieces of their shared nightmare slowly falling into place. Whatever brought them here had been deliberate, calculated, and utterly out of their control. The hallway stretched endlessly ahead, but Finn could already feel the weight of their shared burden settling on his shoulders. 

As the trio walked cautiously down the seemingly endless hallway, more contestants began to fall in step with them, their faces pale and uncertain. The sterile silence of the corridor was broken only by the faint crinkling of diapers and whispered murmurs of confusion. Finn’s eyes darted nervously from one shut door to the next, each identical and appearing unyielding. But then, something caught his eye—a door with a small plaque beside it. Squinting, he read the engraved words: Diaper Changing Room.

His heart leaped with relief. “Finally,” he muttered, motioning toward the door. “Come on, this has to be it.”

Ivy and Clara exchanged glances before eagerly following him, their discomfort obvious. Both looked as eager as Finn to rid themselves of their soiled diapers. Finn approached the door cautiously, and as he stepped closer, a soft light bathed him, scanning them. A calm, automated voice chimed in:

“Welcome, Caregiver Finn, Baby Ivy, and Baby Clara.”

With a faint click, the door slid open.

The room was brightly lit and sterile, lined with a row of padded changing tables. A faint, powdery scent lingered in the air. Finn’s eyes immediately caught on a second door near the back of the room, clearly marked "Caregivers Only - Changing Room."

Curiosity tugged at him, and he walked up to it. As he stepped closer, another light scanned him, but a flat, mechanical tone followed.

“Entry denied. Caregiver tasks are incomplete. Babies must be attended to first.”

Finn groaned, running a hand through his hair as he turned back to face the changing tables. Ivy and Clara stood awkwardly near the door, their faces flushed, clearly uncomfortable with what was about to happen.

Finn sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Well,” he said slowly, his voice strained, “I guess… It’s time to change you both. The problem is, I have no idea how to get these sleepers off.”

Before anyone could respond, the door slid open again, and another trio entered—a girl wearing a confident, almost smug expression, followed by two boys who looked utterly humiliated. The girl strode in confidently, her smirk widening as she glanced around the room. Her two charges shuffled in behind her, their faces flushed as they avoided eye contact. She looked at Finn, her smugness almost palpable.

“Looks like you’ve got your hands full,” she quipped, nodding toward Ivy and Clara. “Need some pointers?”

Finn crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at her. “Do you know what you’re doing, or are you just trying to look like you do?”

The girl hesitated for a split second, her smirk faltering before she recovered. “Well, how hard can it be?” she replied, brushing off his question. She turned toward one of the changing tables and gestured for one of the boys to climb up.

Her charge hesitated, his expression a mix of embarrassment and dread, but he obeyed, hoisting himself awkwardly onto the padded surface. The girl inspected the sleeper’s zipper and tugged at it, only for it to remain stubbornly in place.

“Uh…” she muttered, her earlier confidence wavering.

Finn crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, real expert over here,” he muttered. Ivy snorted softly behind him despite the tension.

“Okay, okay,” the girl huffed, clearly annoyed. She tugged at the zipper again, harder this time, but it didn’t budge. “There’s gotta be a trick to this,” she said, glancing around the room for clues.

The boy’s caregiver placed her hands on his shoulders and gave him a slight nudge until he was on his back. The moment he lay down, the table came to life with sharp clicks and whirs. The boy yelped as padded straps snapped around his ankles and wrists, securing him firmly in place. His wide, panicked eyes darted to the girl, who stepped back in shock. But just as quickly, the table emitted a soft chime, and his sleeper began to loosen. The fabric peeled away from his body, neatly sliding down to reveal the bloated, discolored diaper beneath.

The girl’s smug grin returned as she freed the rest of the sleeper. “See? Easy,” she said, her confidence rekindled—until her eyes landed on the swollen diaper.

Her smirk wavered as her face turned a shade paler, and Finn caught the slight grimace before she quickly masked it. He smirked, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall.

“Not so easy now, is it?” he quipped.

The girl shot him a glare but forced herself to continue. “Oh, shut up,” she muttered, her voice less steady than before. Determined, she popped the tabs on the boy’s diaper, peeling it back with an audible squelch. The sight—and smell—made her nose wrinkle, and she gagged slightly but pressed on, grabbing a pack of wipes from the side of the table.

Finn chuckled softly, turning back to Ivy and Clara. Both girls were staring, their faces red with mortified expressions. “Well,” he said with a shrug, trying to sound casual, “who wants to go first?”

Clara quickly looked away, shaking her head, while Ivy let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine, let’s just get this over with,” she said, climbing onto the table with as much dignity as she could muster.

Before Finn could start, another trio entered the changing room: a male caregiver, a girl, and a boy, both looking equally embarrassed. The room grew more crowded, but Finn took a deep breath and focused on the task. He could already feel the tension rising, but they knew this was just another twisted game piece. Ivy took a deep breath and laid back on the table, bracing herself. She knew the straps were coming, but the sudden snap as they locked around her wrists and ankles still made her flinch. Her cheeks burned as the table adjusted, revealing the swollen, sagging diaper she’d been dreading.

Finn, thankfully, didn’t linger. His expression was focused, almost businesslike, as he peeled the tabs free and opened the diaper. Ivy squeezed her eyes shut, her humiliation palpable, but she couldn’t deny the overwhelming relief as the cold wipes replaced the sticky warmth of her soiled mess. A soft click drew their attention, and a fresh diaper slid into place beneath her. A button indicated that Finn could add additional diapers. He paused, studying the button, wondering why such a button existed before fitting her into only one. Finn eagerly swapped the old one for the clean one; her relief mirrored her posture as she relaxed slightly. He worked quickly, pulling the front panel of the new diaper up and smoothing it into place.

But before he could secure the tabs, Ivy suddenly stopped him, her voice low and hesitant. “Do I… do I have to?”

Finn hesitated, glancing down at the straps holding her firmly to the table. He shrugged and tugged on one of them, but it didn’t budge. His eyes shifted to a small, glowing button labeled ‘Complete’ on the table. He frowned, his curiosity piqued, hovering a hand over it.

Across the room, the girl's caregiver and the boy, whose soiled diaper was still beneath him, had the same idea. Her finger hesitated only for a moment before she pressed the button. The table sprang to life with a mechanical hum, pulling the boy’s sleeper back up in a fluid motion. The diaper, still soiled and sagging, was sealed tightly beneath the fabric, pressing uncomfortably against him. He whined, his face a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, but the table released its restraints, allowing him to sit up.

The boy’s whines filled the room as the flustered girl desperately tried to guide him back onto the table. Her face was bright red, her earlier smug confidence crumbling as she fumbled with the straps. “Hold on, I’ll fix it,” she muttered, embarrassed.

But as she pressed him back onto the table, the calm, automated voice chimed in:

“Contestant 34 has already been changed for the day. Next change available: tomorrow morning.”

The room fell into a stunned silence. All eyes turned toward the table, the girl and the boy, now trapped in his soiled diaper. The boy’s face twisted in dismay. His whines grew louder as he shifted uncomfortably, the messy bulk pressing against him under the snug sleeper.

The girl’s embarrassment deepened as she looked around, her gaze darting from the boy to the other players crowding the changing room. She looked like she wanted to shrink into the floor.

Finn, standing beside Ivy and Clara, couldn’t help but wince. The sight of the boy squirming, sealed into his filthy diaper until morning, drove home just how twisted these rules were. Clara whispered, “That’s horrible,” her voice barely audible over the murmurs rippling through the crowd.

Finn met Ivy’s wide-eyed stare and shook his head. “Lesson learned,” he said quietly, the tension thickening as the contestants slowly started moving again. 

Finn carefully secured the tabs, ensuring the fresh diaper was snug before pressing the button himself. This time, the table folded the sleeper neatly back over her, sealing her clean and comfortable before the straps released her. Ivy sat up with a small sigh of relief, her humiliation still lingering but tempered by her gratitude.

The boy’s face burned red with humiliation as he squirmed in his soiled diaper. His frustration boiled over, and he rounded on the girl, his voice rising angrily. “This is your fault!” he shouted, his fists clenched. “How could you mess this up?!”

The girl’s embarrassment twisted into defensiveness. “I didn’t know the table would do that!” she snapped back, her voice trembling as she tried to explain. “I was just trying to—”

But the boy stepped closer, his shouting cutting her off, his words sharp and unrelenting. “Now I’m stuck like this until tomorrow because of you!”

A sharp buzzer blared before the argument could escalate further, cutting through the room like a whip. Everyone froze, their eyes darting around nervously.

The same cold, automated voice that had announced their fates before returned, eerily calm yet authoritative. “Contestant 34 is throwing a tantrum and has earned a time-out.”

The room fell silent, the weight of those words sinking in. The voice continued, “Caregiver 12, escort Contestant 34 to the Naughty Room immediately for punishment.”

The boy’s anger evaporated instantly, replaced by sheer terror. His eyes widened, and he stumbled back, looking frantically around the room. “No! No, please!” he begged, his voice cracking. He turned to the walls, his desperation clear. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I swear!”

But the walls offered no forgiveness. The voice remained emotionless. “Caregiver 12 has ten minutes to deliver Contestant 34 to the Naughty Room or face elimination.”

The girl, Caregiver 12, looked stricken. Her hands trembled as she glanced at the boy and then at the others in the room, her uncertainty palpable. “I… I don’t even know where it is!” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The screen on the wall flickered to life, displaying a flashing arrow pointing down the hallway. The message was clear.

The boy’s sobs grew louder, his cries echoing in the silent room. “Please! Don’t make me go! I’ll be good, I promise!”

With her panic mounting, Caregiver 12 hesitated momentarily before grabbing the boy’s arm. “I don’t have a choice!” she said shakily, pulling him toward the exit.

The boy dug his heels into the floor, wailing as she dragged him across the changing room. His cries grew more desperate, but the door slid open, and she pulled him through, her face pale and determined. The moment the door closed behind them, the boy’s terrified screams were abruptly cut off, leaving the room in an oppressive silence. No one moved, each contestant too shaken to speak. 

Finn worked quickly, repeating the process with Clara. Like Ivy, she flinched as the straps snapped into place, but she said nothing, her face burning with embarrassment. Finn moved quietly, changing her into a fresh diaper as the other caregivers attended to their charges. He completed her change and helped her to the floor. Clara gave him an appreciative nod, unable to meet his eyes.

With both girls clean and ready, Finn stepped up to the door marked Caregivers Only once more. The scanner emitted a soft chime this time, and the door slid open.  Finn exhaled in relief as he stepped inside. The room was simple but functional, lined with low changing tables, a large diaper pail, and neatly stacked supplies of diapers and pull-ups. It was a stark yet welcome change from the crowded chaos of the main changing room.

Finn approached one of the tables and awkwardly tugged at the waistband of his bloated diaper, letting it drop heavily to the floor. The cool air against his skin was a relief, and he quickly grabbed a handful of wipes to clean himself. His cheeks burned as he worked, and the humiliating diaper crinkle lingered in his ears.

He glanced around the room, searching for something more dignified than the pull-ups stacked nearby. But he heard the door slide open behind him before he could explore further. With a frustrated sigh, Finn relented, grabbing a pull-up and stepping into it. The elastic material snapped into place snugly around his hips, and while it was far better than a diaper, it still felt infantilizing.

As he adjusted the waistband, the female caregiver from earlier walked in, her confidence dimmed but not entirely gone. She glanced at Finn and raised an eyebrow. “You went with the pull-up?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Finn shrugged, turning slightly to face her. “Not taking any risks,” he replied flatly. “Who knows what happens if you try something different.”

She nodded thoughtfully and stepped toward a table. As she turned her back to him, Finn couldn’t help but notice the messy state of her diaper, the caked material clinging awkwardly to her. She moved with practiced detachment, peeling it away with a grimace before grabbing wipes to clean herself, her rear caked in mess.

Neither spoke further, the shared discomfort of their situation hanging heavily in the air. Finn adjusted his pull-up one last time, his resolve hardening. Finn tugged the sleeper back over himself, wincing as the snug fabric stretched over the childish cartoon designs on his pull-up. He tried to ignore the humiliating bulk as he saw another door toward the back of the room. His curiosity got the better, and he stepped up to it.

The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the full extent of Mistress’s cruel promise. Finn’s eyes widened in disbelief. The room was lined with small, brightly colored plastic potties, each decorated with phrases like ‘Big Kid in Training’ and ‘Oopsie,’ ‘Try Again!’ The cheerful, infantilizing slogans were impossible to miss.

His face flushed crimson, and he immediately backed out of the room. The sound of the door sliding shut behind him compounded his mortification. The girl caregiver pulled her sleeper back over her bare chest, her cheeks flushing as she caught his reaction. She glanced toward the door he’d just exited, her face twisting into a mix of curiosity and resignation as she caught a glimpse of what lay inside.

She groaned softly, yanking the zipper up. “Just wonderful,” she muttered under her breath, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Wonderful.”

As she finished dressing, another boy's caregiver entered, his demeanor far more confident. He quickly cleaned himself up and, with a smirk, declared, “I’m not wearing one of those stupid things.” He boldly strode to the exit, diaperless, but the door emitted a sharp buzz, halting him in his tracks.

“Caregiver must wear a pull-up or diaper to exit,” the automated voice announced.

The boy groaned in frustration, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” he shouted, pounding a fist against the unyielding door.

Realizing he had no choice, he stomped to the changing tables, muttering angrily as he grabbed a pull-up and yanked it on. His humiliation was palpable as he stormed past Finn and the girl, who exchanged knowing looks before heading for the exit themselves.

Finn saw Ivy and Clara waiting just outside as the door slid open. Their postures were awkward and unsure. The four of them stood in an uncomfortable silence for a moment before Finn gave a small nod and motioned for them to follow.

Together, they left the busy changing room as caregivers cleaned their babies. Finn took the lead back down the hallway, guiding Ivy and Clara further down the corridor. The sterile, clinical atmosphere was suffocating, and every step was accompanied by the soft crinkle of their humiliating attire. As they moved, a door labeled Cafeteria caught Finn’s eye, its polished surface reflecting the harsh lights above.

At the far end of the hall, the cribs loomed like cages waiting for their captives, a giant analog clock mounted above them. The ticking hands marked every passing second, a reminder of the limited time left before the babies were required to be in their cribs. Finn glanced at it uneasily. There was still some time—but not much.

He turned to Ivy and Clara, motioning toward the cafeteria door. “Let’s check it out,” he said.

The three of them approached, but as they stepped closer, an automated voice chimed:

“Caregivers only.”

Ivy and Clara sighed in unison, their disappointment clear as they stepped back. Finn gave them an apologetic shrug and reluctantly entered the room alone. Inside, the cafeteria was sterile and cold, with rows of gleaming tables and a wall-mounted console filled with buttons. Each button was marked with a number corresponding to the contestants. Finn’s stomach turned as he stared at them; the thought of more food—especially anything like the thick, sweet liquid from earlier—made him physically ill. He shook his head and left the room without touching anything.

Out in the hallway, the clock’s ticking seemed louder, its relentless countdown pressing them forward. The cribs loomed closer, and Ivy and Clara hesitated. Neither girl wanted to climb in, their faces twisted with apprehension, but there was no other option. With quiet groans of resignation, they reluctantly stepped into their cribs.

The moment they entered, the cribs whirred softly, scanning them. “Contestant is in sleeper and crib,” the automated voice announced, and with a sharp click, the bars locked into place.

Ivy’s and Clara’s faces flashed with panic, their hands gripping the bars as they tugged at them, testing their strength. The locks didn’t budge. Finn could see the fear rising in their eyes, and his chest tightened.

More contestants began filing into the hall, their faces weary and resigned. Most of the “babies” climbed willingly into their cribs, the cold metal bars locking into place with an unsettling click. The soft hum of the automated voice announcing each crib’s occupancy filled the air, adding to the tension.

But not everyone went quietly.

Contestant 72, a boy, stood firmly at the edge of the hallway, shaking his head as his caregiver tried to coax him toward the waiting crib. “No,” he snapped, his voice trembling. “I’m not getting in there!”

The caregiver grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the crib, but 72 jerked free, his resistance growing more frantic. “Let go of me!” he yelled, pushing back harder.

The air grew thick with unease as the other contestants watched, their movements slowing.

The calm, mechanical voice echoed through the room once again. “Contestant 72, report to the Naughty Room.”

The boy froze, his eyes darting toward the ceiling as if the voice had come from above. His breathing quickened, but he clenched his fists and stood his ground.

“I’m not going anywhere!” he shouted.

He thrashed harder against his caregiver, his panic turning into outright aggression. In a desperate move, he swung his fist, landing a punch against his caregiver’s shoulder.

The sound of a buzzer blared sharply through the hall, and suddenly, 72’s sleeper went rigid. His limbs locked into place, his joints stiff and unmovable as he crumbled to the floor.

His eyes went wide with terror as he realized what had happened. “No, no, please!” he cried, his voice breaking. “I’ll stop! I’m sorry!”

The automated voice returned, unyielding and cold. “Caregiver, deliver Contestant 72 to the Naughty Room immediately. You have ten minutes.”

The boy began sobbing, his body immobilized, as his caregiver grabbed him under the arms and dragged him down the hallway. His cries echoed off the walls, growing louder as they neared a door marked with a simple plaque: Naughty Room.

The door slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing dark machinery and shadowed corners. Without hesitation, mechanical arms extended from within, latching onto the boy’s rigid sleeper. His panicked screams filled the hallway as the arms lifted him and pulled him inside, his pleas abruptly cut off as the door sealed shut with a chilling finality.

The room fell deathly silent. The remaining contestants stared wide-eyed at the plaque, the reality of the punishment sinking in. Finn clenched his fists at his sides, glancing at Ivy and Clara, both pale and trembling in their locked cribs.  The ticking clock loomed over the hallway, amplified by the tense silence. Contestants hurried to their cribs, fear of the Naughty Room outweighing any reluctance. One by one, the soft click of locking cribs echoed down the corridor as the timer counted down with only minutes remaining.

Finn shifted her gaze, catching sight of the last caregiver entering the hallway. She walked briskly, her two assigned babies waddling beside her, their thick, obvious double, if not triple, diapers forcing them into an exaggerated gait. The caregiver wore a smug grin, clearly delighted by their padded state, but the ominous ticking clock wiped away any sense of control she might have felt.

She moved quickly, guiding one baby into their crib, the bars locking in place with a soft chime. But just as she turned to the second, the timer hit zero. The hallway lights abruptly shifted to an ominous red as a shrill buzzer pierced the air. The automated voice followed, cold and final:

“Caregiver 16, eliminated.”

The woman froze, her face draining of color as her number lit up on the wall in bold, unforgiving red. A trapdoor beneath her feet suddenly snapped open, and with a startled scream, she plummeted into the darkness below. Her cries were abruptly silenced as the trapdoor closed with a metallic clang.

The remaining baby stood rooted to the spot, their wide eyes reflecting pure horror as they stared at the spot where their caregiver had disappeared. The automated voice returned, indifferent and unrelenting. “Remaining baby, Contestant 41, must be placed in crib within five minutes. Caregivers, ensure compliance.”

The baby didn’t need further encouragement. Shaking, she began clumsily climbing into her assigned crib, the bulk of its multiple diapers making the task awkward and difficult. Finn watched with unease as the crib scanned her and locked securely, signaling compliance.

The hallway dimmed as the red lights faded, and the automated voice spoke again. “Caregivers, you must be in your sleepers and cribs by the time the clock runs out. This is your final opportunity to use the potty. Failure to comply will result in elimination.”

A new timer appeared above the cribs, its countdown glowing softly. Finn glanced at Ivy and Clara, pale and silent in their cribs, before turning to the other caregivers in the hallway. Some were already retreating toward the changing room, their hurried steps echoing faintly. Finn followed the other caregivers into the humiliatingly named Potty Room, the awkwardness in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. No one spoke as they chose one of the brightly colored plastic potties lining the walls, their faces flushed with embarrassment. Finn sighed, swallowing his pride as he shuffled to an empty potty.

With a resigned breath, he dropped his pull-up and sat down, his cheeks burning as the childish seat supported him. Around him, other caregivers were equally mortified, their gazes fixed firmly on the floor as they quickly relieved themselves. The faint sound of water running in the nearby sinks followed as they cleaned up, put on their pull-ups and left the room individually. Finn finished quickly, washing his hands and returning to the cribs.

Reluctantly, he pulled his sleeper back on, feeling the fabric settle snugly around his body. With a heavy sigh, he climbed into his assigned crib. The moment he lay down, the sleeper constricted, locking tightly around him, and the crib bars clicked shut with an ominous click of the lock.

Other caregivers around him were doing the same, their cribs locking them in for the night. The timer ticking down loomed over the room like a death knell. Finn watched as the last few caregivers climbed into their cribs—except for one. A boy, standing defiantly near his open crib, refused to pull his sleeper back on.

The automated voice broke the tense silence. “Caregiver 21, put on your sleeper.”

The boy shook his head, his arms crossed. “No,” he muttered, his voice steady despite the fear flickering in his eyes. “I’m not doing it.”

The clock continued its countdown, each tick echoing louder in the silent room. The other contestants exchanged uneasy glances, but no one dared intervene.

When the timer reached zero, a shrill buzzer filled the air, and the automated voice returned cold and final: “Caregiver 21, eliminated.”

The boy barely had time to react before the trapdoor beneath him opened with a metallic clang. He fell with a startled cry, his voice cut off as the door slammed shut behind him. The screens on the walls flickered, the jackpot ticking upward once more as the number of eliminated contestants increased.

Finn stared at the glowing screen, the grim reality of the Nursery Trials sinking deeper with every passing moment. Around him, the room fell silent, save for the clock's ticking as they all lay trapped in their cribs.

A sudden mechanical whirring filled the room, the sound cold and unyielding. Finn tensed, his grip tightening on the bars of his crib as he glanced around.

To his horror, the top bars of the babies’ cribs began to lower slowly, inch by inch. The panicked murmurs of the trapped contestants quickly turned into frightened cries as the bars descended closer and closer, closing the already cramped space around them.

“What’s happening?!” Ivy’s voice called out, muffled by the enclosing bars.

The bars stopped just inches above the babies, rendering them almost completely immobile. Finn could see their wide, terrified eyes, their bodies stiff as they tried and failed to adjust to their new confinement. The cries around him grew louder, and fear and helplessness saturated the air. The whirring stopped, leaving the room in an eerie silence broken only by the soft sound of rapid, shallow breathing.

Finn looked down at Ivy and Clara, both barely able to move in their cribs. His crib remained fully open, as did the other caregivers— another “privilege” they’d earned.

“Another reward for our ‘service,’” Finn muttered bitterly under his breath, his chest tightening with frustration and guilt.

The clock’s faint glow flickered, sputtered, and died, plunging the room into an uneasy silence. Then, with a sudden, jarring click, the overhead lights snapped off, and an impenetrable, suffocating darkness devoured the space. Finn’s breath caught as Mistress’s voice slithered through the void, low and taunting, “Goodnight, children.” Her chilling words hung in the air, leaving them trapped in darkness thick with fear and the promise of horrors yet to come.