Elya woke up as she did every morning at dawn. The academy, vast and imposing, stood before her like a sanctuary for the brightest minds where intelligence ruled supreme. Here, she was not part of the crowd. She belonged to a select group of students, chosen for their intelligence that surpassed the norm, destined to serve as the driving force of the future society and a ruthless government whose sole aim was to maintain peace and their power at any cost.
Emotions had been banned for over a hundred years, deemed too dangerous after the Great Reset. Since then, an oppressive silence reigned, broken only by the sound of machines. No more tears, no more laughter. Just rational, cold, obedient beings with impassive faces.
Today, like every school day, Elya followed the path leading to her classes, the wide, empty corridors perfectly reflecting the control that governed her life. But this morning was different. A feeling of rebellion and thrill was awakening inside her.
In class, the logic teacher was as usual, rigid in his teachings about the necessity of controlling emotions. But Elya seemed completely elsewhere. Her gaze wandered and her mind drifted, absorbed by a thought that wouldn't leave her. That morning, her mind was not in the classroom. It was elsewhere, in her father's room, where she had found an old dusty book—a hidden journal. Curious, she opened it...
"Mr. Amber: You seem distracted, Miss Dalton. May I ask why?"
The teacher's voice snapped her abruptly back to reality...
Elya jumped, caught off guard. She felt all eyes turn to her, every breath a judgment. She avoided the teacher's gaze.
Elya: "Sorry, Mr. Amber, I… I'm not feeling well today."
He stared at her, scrutinizing every detail of her face with the critical eye of a detective. Silence stretched, heavy and tense.
Mr. Amber: "Really? You look perfectly fine, Miss Dalton."
He hesitated for a moment, suspicion on his face. "I suggest you go to the infirmary, just to be safe."
Elya: "Alright, sir, I'll go after class."
She spoke mechanically, trying to hide the nervousness twisting inside her.
The teacher nodded without replying, but his eyes remained fixed on her as if waiting for her to make a mistake. Elya felt fragile, exposed under his gaze. She felt like a puppet, her actions dictated by a society that tolerated no imperfections.
Once classes were over, she rushed out of the room, her heart pounding with every step. That journal, she couldn't forget it. She thought back to the old wooden box, hidden among her father's things. That journal seemed sealed for a reason she didn't understand.
While flipping through it, one phrase caught her attention: "Emotions are not a burden; they are our freedom." Those words struck her like a flash of truth she had never considered. She, who had always believed emotions were dangerous, that they must be controlled and mastered. But this journal... it seemed to say the opposite. What if the world she lived in was a lie?
That evening, lying in bed, she couldn't stop thinking about what she had discovered. Why had her father kept that journal? What did he know? Curiosity overwhelmed her, but a dull fear also grew inside. This secret, she felt, could change everything. But at what cost?