Yixing looked at herself in the mirror. She zipped the mud-coloured onesie uniform she was wearing; right over her left , there was a patch with her name embroidered on it. She ghosted a hand over it and closed her eyes for a second, already feeling the urge of running away. But she couldn't. She couldn't turn her back to her companions and escape, it was too late and she wanted, for the very first time in her life, to carry out something.

She swallowed hard before looking away from her own reflection and bending down to check if the laces of her boots were tied. She cast one last look at her home, a little cubicle with nothing more than essential furniture and stuff in it. It had been her refuge for more than two years and, despite all its flaws, she had grown attached to it. She glanced over at her personal water basin, now empty. She had drunk the last sip just a few minutes before getting ready, but now she was regretting it: was dry, so much that she couldn't even swallow properly without feeling little pangs in .

Yixing put a hand on the fingerprint scanner, releasing a shaky breath. A gentle pressure of her palm and the door opened right in front of her, the bright light of the sun immediately hitting her face, making the girl shut her eyes. What a nice day to die.

She stepped out of the small flat, and threw a furtive look all around, making sure no one she knew was there. The day was warm, and a nice breeze was blowing, therefore the majority of her co-owners were probably out enjoying the wonderful weather. Definitely a of luck. She passed the electronic key on the door scanner to lock it and she was finally ready to leave behind everything she had been building for years, everyone she had loved. Once again Yixing had a reconsideration while going down the stairs, and she almost had a panic attack, but what she was about to do was too important to give up just when it was so near to the final act.

Reaching the crowded streets, the black-haired girl frantically pulled the sleeves of the uniform down until they covered her wrists. Although she was sure no one would have been able to recognise her in that chaos, she didn't want someone to notice the tattoo she had in the socket of her right elbow. It was too risky and she didn't want to ruin the work of years of her companions. She wasn't alone in that mission, and that meant her actions had consequences on someone else's life, too. That thought alone gave her strength, and the girl lowered her head while hunching her shoulders. The nice weather seemed to accuse her of her plans.

It took her twenty minutes to reach the previously decided point. A truck was stopped by a sewer cover, and Yixing knew that was the signal. Some men dressed in the same uniform she was were there, talking loudly; they barely noticed the girl's presence, but when they did, they just lifted a hand to salute her. The faking was still going on very well. She breathed in and slowly opened the cover and, once she had made sure no one was paying attention to her, entered the manhole, immediately closing the cover over her head.

Down there everything was different; there was no sun shining, no kids yelling, no colourful clothes or skyscrapers, no trees. There were only obscurity and humidity. She had to squint her eyes to get to see something. From a pocket, Yixing took out a torch and turned it on to see what was surrounding her.

The narrow tunnel was made of plain concrete, and it was just a little bit taller than Yixing herself was. The temperature was lower than in the outer world, and there were no colours except for the shades of black, grey, and blue. She could hear the water flowing right beside her, so the girl pointed the flash of the light in that direction: There was a kind of stream flowing in the middle of the tunnel and, at both sides, there was a sidewalk. She put the torch in while rummaging again in her pockets, this time taking out a map, which she opened and pinned to the wall, pointing the torch right at it. A lot of red marks had been drawn on the piece of paper, and she passed her index over each one of them, with her lips mimicking something while her teeth kept the torch in place. Those tunnels were pretty old, older than three-quarters of the entire city, and they were full of sudden turns, hidden passages, and dangerous places. They also had enormous spaces where the waters met and found their direction towards the sea. Those were used also as meeting points, and Yixing had to find the one she was supposed to meet her companions at.

After an uncountable number of turns and downhills, she finally reached it. Even before seeing something, she heard the general rustle and chit-chat. The girl felt relieved, so much that she nearly felt the need to cry. There they were, all the people who had believed in that ideal, in that project, and who that day were ready to give their own life to make the world they were living in a better place.

When Yixing arrived, everyone immediately welcomed her. Her companions, her friends, her family. Since she had left her native town almost three years before to pursue her educational career, she had always wanted to have someone to lean on; she had felt alone and unaccepted, but then everything had changed in the blink of an eye. And she had finally felt as if she had found her purpose, her final destination.

Kris, the leader of the Philosophic Movement, as they liked to call themselves, hugged her as soon as he spotted her. The girl felt complete, enclosed into that warm hug.

“I thought you had changed your mind,” he said into her ear.

“I thought that too, but I just can't turn away now...”

Kris released her from his long arms, and Yixing was finally able to say hello to everyone who was there. More than fifty people were all gathered there, coming from all the parts of the Capitol, ready to start the end. She recognised each one of them. Every single person who was leaving behind themselves a life, who were ready to sacrifice their future for a better cause.

Yixing looked at them all: there were Baekhyun and Chanyeol, a gay couple who had decided to go through this all together. They had a lot to sacrifice, starting from the beautiful baby girl, Chaera, they had managed to have. And there, there was Jia, a girl nearly her age who had joined the cause just a few weeks before, after having abandoned her parents without saying a word. Kris himself had spent half of his life pursuing the dream of making the world a better place, sacrificing his studies, his family, his future. And then Lucien, Vivienne, Sullivan, Eric, and so many others. Yixing thought about herself, about what she was leaving behind: At the age of 21, she had no serious relationship and no strong belief. Everything she had done for most of her life had been studying and learning new stuff, new languages, new knowledge. And survive, day by day. She had thought her life was okay that way, transferring into a new city to attend the best University, leaving her native family and living on her own. The reality was, she wasn't leaving that much behind: in fact, she might have been the one who had less to lose among them all.

They were all different, yet they all shared the same dream, and the only real element that could identify those who shared it was the tattoo they all had had inked in the socket of their right elbow. A little snail, no bigger than a chestnut. When Yixing had asked why the snail a year back, Kris had flashed one of his charismatic smiles and said, “It's because snails carry their own home always with themselves, and even though they look strong at a first look, they are fragile instead. So are we: we have the entire world – our home – on our shoulders, and even if we pretend we are the invincible species that can overcome the greatest threats, we are in reality just little ants compared to what surrounds us,” and the girl couldn’t do anything but agree.

While waiting for the mission to start, Yixing inspected the place she knew so well already: seven different tunnels united in the middle, the corresponding streams of water forming some sort of artificial lake, at the centre of which there was a wide concrete isle, connected to the sidewalks of each tunnel by boardwalks. The ceiling was higher than the one of the tunnels, and it created a spacious vault made of grey concrete. In the middle of it, an old electric lamp was emanating a dim whitish light, making the whole place look spectral. Fortunately, the other members had provided, during the previous days of continuous inspections, a series of different lamps and torches (probably found in some antiquarian shop), and now the place looked quite warm and welcoming. The people in there – mostly youngsters – were vivaciously talking, even though they kept their voices low. Some of them were excited and didn't even stop for a second thinking about the negative side of what they were about to do; on the other hand, some others were worried and yet full of hopes.

“Guys, let's recheck the plan once more, the time is nearing and we don't want something to go wrong, do we?” Kris rhetorically asked while passing a hand through his short brown hair, and everyone gathered in the isle.

“Gemma, Leo, Dragon, Suzy, Hope, Elias, and Jay are already in their positions with the bombs we have fabricated and placed activated. Every half minute one of the bombs will explode and create a wave, and at the seventh, this entire web of tunnels will be overfilled with water and will crumble down. We would be dead by the fifth wave, probably. So, say goodbye to one another, at this point there's no turning back. If you don’t feel like doing this, now it’s your last chance to pull back and save your life, no one here will judge you for it. Hope to see you all in a better place, or in another life. Always think bigger,” and with that, the place went silent.

Finally, reality hit them all with its astonishing truth. No more excited chitchatting, no more messy blubbering. Everyone looked at the people around them, and Yixing felt nauseous. A few people left, going back on their steps. She couldn't really blame them, though.

The girl accepted every hug and every goodbye her companions offered, she kissed so many cheeks, so many foreheads, hugged so many shaking bodies and squeezed so many trembling hands. She wiped away Baekhyun's tears when the black-haired boy hugged her and said, for the millionth time, she reminded him of Chaera, the only reason he was doing this with his husband, and she herself let a single tear roll down her cheek when Kris hugged her once more, repeating the wish to see her again. She accepted really everyone, except only one of them.

Yixing had been escaping from him since she had arrived at the meeting place, and she had thought her efforts were worth it, when she saw him approaching her. A boy with short black hair went straight to the spot where she was standing, and with his long arms tried to hug her like many others before him had done. But he was different, and Yixing tensed only at the idea of him brushing his skin against hers.

“Yixing-“

“Sehun, don't even try to get closer,” Yixing said sternly.

“I just want to say goodbye, we are going to be dead in less than an hour.”

“Well, goodbye then,” the girl replied, coldly taking his slender hand into hers and shaking it with no emphasis whatsoever.

“Why won't you just treat me like the others?” he looked hurt.

“You know I can't stand you. You're a douche, but I guess you know this, too.”

Sehun shook his head and smiled sadly but didn't reply any further. Before leaving, he simply whispered, “You might regret it, in the end.”

The girl snorted and turned her back to the boy. She didn't even want to stop and think about that last sentence. Sehun was a douche, and even if they were like a family, she couldn't get herself to like him. After all, all families had that one complicated relationship, and the girl was convinced the one she had with him was the perfect example. They didn’t even fight, and honestly they never really had any reason to be so tense with each other. Yixing just had this weird feeling every time they were too close.

Everyone knew about it, knew about the dislike floating from Yixing to Sehun, and most of them had given up on the idea of fixing it somehow. They all wished for a peaceful environment, and therefore Yixing just ignored him every time she could, and the boy did the same. But that day was different, and although the girl didn't want to admit it to herself, she had battled inside to resist the idea of finally letting the hatred go and say one last goodbye to him.

“It's time,” echoed Kris' voice, and the entire place fell silent once again – this time permanently.

Yixing approached Kris, snapping out of her reasoning. That was her spot, side by side with the person who had been able to understand her the most, who had managed to give a new meaning to her life. Her leader, her role model.

The first wave of water arrived, strong and fierce, unstoppable, and the water level raised reaching the basement of the isle. Voices rose and the first wave of panic burst. Some people tried to escape, forgetting that right then the most secure places were the platform and the sidewalks.

Exactly half a minute later, the second wave arrived, and this time they all found themselves immersed until their knees. At the third, the water level reached the lower abdomen of the tallest people, and a strong smell started spreading all over the place. The water was no longer being filtrated and purified, thus the sewer was slowly gathering all the dirty water coming from the city above.

When the fourth wave arrived, the level was a little bit over Yixing's s, and she knew the next one would have most likely killed her. The fourth had already knocked her breath out due to the speed at which the water had flooded in, the fifth reaching over her head would have killed her as soon as it would have washed over her. She didn't even expect someone to drag her up, because the plan was exactly like that: they had to die together to make their action more significant, more unforgettable and symbolic.

Yixing looked at Kris right into his hazel eyes and brushed a hand on his arm to say one last goodbye; then she looked at all the people in there. She made eye contact with Baekhyun and saw his fear while gripping at Chanyeol's shoulders. And without realising it, while she counted down the last seconds of her short life, her eyes met Sehun's. Those dark orbs seemed to attract her glances without any particular reason. He was right, she was regretting it now, everything would have died with her. All she could think about were those last words full of hatred while he looked at her like a hurt puppy.

She closed her eyes. 9, 8, 7, 6... She breathed in, she wasn't ready but at the same time she was, now more than ever. 3, 2, 1... Nothing.

“What are y'all doing here?”

Yixing opened her eyes wide and gulped hard. She felt Kris tensing beside her and understood something was off. Around her, everyone kept being silent, not daring to turn around or speak. They were all waiting for Kris to make the first move.

“What are you doing here, sir?”

“I'm in charge of this tunnel,” he said while indicating one of the tunnels at his back, “there have been some explosions along the mergers, and they sent me to check.”

No one was saying a word. They had been caught red-handed; their plan had miserably failed. Yes, there might have been a chance to get away with it just by lying and saying they had been sent for a check as well... But that didn't sound smart and credible. That man was quite old, greyish beard on his face and a web of wrinkles (underlined by the torch lights) surrounded his eyes, and certainly hard to fool.

“Are you by any chance part of the cause of this mess?”

“What if we were?” Kris' voice was firm and calm. That reply actually took Yixing by surprise.

“Kids, go home. This place is smelly, and y'all young. In less than five years by now you might find out that, whatever you’re protesting about, has a more pacific solution. Algorithms always have a solution.”

Yixing wanted to talk back, to protest. An algorithm didn't always have a solution and the world couldn't wait for humans to get that fact straight into their brain. When she was about to open , though, she felt Kris' hand on her arm, intimating her to shut up.

“You are right, sir. You must have lived longer than us, your wisdom might be helpful.”

The man smiled. “Now go home. And get a nice shower, you'll be stinky…”

The girl was confused. Kris wasn't going to protest and, since he was the leader, everyone simply followed his example. No one tried to talk back, to explain their point of view.

The water level had already decreased sensibly while they were being told off by the old man, and now they could move more easily again, putting one foot after the other, following the exact same steps the person preceding them had taken. Yixing felt lost once more. She wasn't strong enough to start her life again, going to classes and learn new stuff as if she hadn't tried to blow up the entire system.

Forming two long lines, they all exited from the nearest sewer cover, undressing and whispering. The plan had been a failure, they hadn't thought about the independent variable of it all. When the last of them closed the cover right behind them, they all took off their uniforms and Kris fished out a lighter and burned them down. The same plan couldn't be put into work twice; that was quite easy to understand.

Yixing watched the clothes burning; the fire hypnotised her with its bluish and green flames dancing and destroying everything they met on their path. The black toxic smoke tickled her nose and she put a hand on it, instinctively. Her eyes watered, but she wasn't sure whether it was for the smoke or the frustration. Her hopes were vanishing just like the clothes in front of her.

They all stood there until there was nothing left but a pile of dark ashes and a nauseating smell of burnt fabric, as though those were the remaining of an ancestral ritual they had just witnessed.

“Same hour, same day. We'll find another way.”

Those lapidary words, coming from the leader's mouth, somehow placated her soul. It was true: this time had gone wrong, but it looked like Kris had something else in mind already, and she felt determination rising inside her. Now the destructive fire that had been in front of her eyes was burning inside her with a new kind of flame, stronger and perpetual.

The people began going away, their heads down, their bodies tense and shaken. Some of them were even crying. She caught a glimpse of Sehun looking in the direction of the headquarters of the Algorithm with his brows knitted. The girl followed his glance, balled her fists and mentally swore next time would have turned out differently. She didn't know how, and it didn't matter right then; what counted was to resume their work as soon as possible and be determined until the very last second of their lives.

Yixing sighed and shook her head, already thinking about what to do next; she just couldn’t go back to how it was and pretend everything was fine. She needed a plan, a hobby, whatever to keep her mind busy. Before leaving the narrow alley they were in, though, she approached Kris and started walking beside him.

“Kris…”

“Yes?”

“Why didn't you want me, or any of us, to reply to that man?” that question had been haunting her brain.

The boy looked at the sky above. “He has a faith, Yixing, and he's old. Why making his day worse? We'll have other days to try again. We got caught, we failed, there was no point anyway.”

“But he said algorithms-“

“He believes in that. Let's prove him he was wrong, but with facts and not words,” it looked like Kris wasn't getting her point, so she went on.

“He didn't even get angry at us for having messed up the place!”

Yixing was kind of pitying the man, now. He had looked so tired and compassionate, he surely would have been the one in charge of cleaning everything up, “I hate this place!” and she underlined that with a kick at a lonely stone.

“In a place where you're told everyone's opinion matters, you can't be angry if someone shows theirs openly, can you?”

Yixing didn't reply, but she knew deep down that Kris was terribly right. They were free to have their own opinions and they were told all their life that no one could say anything against it. It sounded like a paradise, but in reality, it looked more like hell: with no restrictions whatsoever, everyone was completely free to say whatever they wanted, and – more importantly – in the way they preferred. Obviously, politeness was taught and strongly encouraged, but in many years of history no society had seen every human becoming a saint. If this wasn't already bad enough, political matters had to be added; no elections and no parties, just the Algorithm. The Algorithm, the ever-present brain of logical solutions and decisions, was the only entity able to be completely impartial and therefore adequate to rule an entire nation, an entire planet. Its logic couldn’t fail, it was made of mere mathematical calculations.

But was that really true? Tons of people had given up on deciding by themselves because of this belief, although there was no real proof of it being true.

And what about education? In a society where schools taught history just by giving dates, facts, and certified consequences and connections, students were free to create their own motivation and opinion about literally anything. Since no judgement was present in their books, and they hadn't lived those moments personally, they sometimes tended to reduce anything to a simple "if it has happened there must have been a logical cause". And self-education was even more dangerous, as people could find many pieces of information everywhere with a simple online search – sometimes without making sure it was trustworthy.

The only existing criterion which allowed each human being to choose whether what they were thinking was right or wrong was logic. And obviously, the Algorithm. In a place where every opinion mattered, no opinion really mattered enough, and somehow everyone ended up believing the same things, because, after all, logic didn't have that many options. No one wasted time reflecting over the most basic things, let alone the complicated ones.

“See you, Yixing!” Kris said suddenly, and his voice made the girl come back to reality. She looked around just to notice that Kris had walked her almost until home.

“Bye, Kris... Thank you,” the last part came out like a whisper, and she was sure he hadn't heard it. But it was okay like that anyway.

She went up the stairs nearly running, thus tripping more than once on the white steps. Everything seemed normal. The day was still sunny, the breeze still blowing. As if the world around didn't even care for those who were trying to save it. The world seemed happy, then why Yixing wasn't? From the front door, she could hear kids yelling in the park down the building, and the melody of the leaves moving on the trees was relaxing.

For the nth time that day, Yixing breathed in. What could seem perfect to the others, to her looked infernal. She unlocked the door and entered her home, and the little place welcomed her with unusual brightness as if the flat itself had felt something was going to happen to its owner.

Yixing went straight to the mirror and looked at herself: she was the same girl that had admired her own reflection a few hours before, but she seemed older. Her short black hair was now reduced to a messy bob, the bangs of her fringe sticking out in the craziest directions. The black sleeveless shirt she had put under the uniform showed her pale skin adorned with black tattoos here and there, while the metallic piercings she had in her ears reflected the blinding sunlight sending flashes of light at her every move.

Breathing out, she activated the smart mirror to check on her parameters (paying attention not to show her snail tattoo) and thought back at what the old man had told them down in the sewer, and then at what Kris had told her along the way home. And, after a couple of minutes spent reasoning over it, she got it. She understood what Kris meant. That man believed algorithms could find a solution to literally everything, and that belief had been proven right by the fact that their plan had been discovered in time and he had been able to somehow save so many young lives. Kris was right: they had to prove him wrong with their actions; words simply weren’t enough if they could have been proved wrong by reality. If they could have shown the entire world that logic wasn't always able to make things right, maybe the people would have started questioning the society they were living in.

She spared a look at the water basin, half empty. That sight made her feel guilty; due to the minor waste of water they had caused with the first four explosions, the drinkable water basin hadn't been filled up completely. Yixing thought about Jenna and her two twins, living in the apartment next door: her babies needed to drink a lot and the idea that her actions might have caused problems to those she wanted to save made her feel sick. She hadn't thought about that kind of backlash.

She went into the bathroom and turned open the faucet, pushing her head under the stream of water. She needed to find her centre, to calm herself down. The day was still long, and she had to find something to make it through the end. She dried her wet face and went into the bedroom after having made sure she wasn't smelly and that her clothes were still clean. She picked up a backpack and put some books in it. Going to University at that time was out of the question, but the public library was still open – and she knew she might have found what she was looking for in there.

She put on a short-sleeved jacket and looked at herself in the mirror adjusting her hair and then left the house again. On the doorstep, she met Jenna, and the guilt Yixing had felt just a few minutes before intensified.

“Hello Yixing!”

“Good afternoon”

“Have you seen the water basin? Is it just mine or yours as well isn't full?”

“M- Mine, too, Jenna…”

“Uhm. I wonder what has happened. Fortunately, the Algorithm has given us enough water to survive until the next refill. We don't want to spend too much on some bottles...”

“Y-yeah. If you need more, you can take mine. I mean, I'll be out until very late, I won't use it that much.”

The woman smiled while balancing herself with the bags full of groceries. “Oh, Yixing, you’re such a sweetheart! But as I said, the Algorithm did its job, so we'll be fine. Be careful while you're out, I see you're full of bruises and I'm afraid you fall too frequently. Are you okay, dear?”

“Yes, I am,” she replied scratching her cheek absent-mindedly in discomfort, “I just tripped down the stairs some days ago. I'm too clumsy for this world.”

It was a half-truth, after all. She did trip down the stairs, but the stairs of the sewer, while doing the inspections in the past days. Also, it was true she was definitely too clumsy.

“Poor thing. Have you gone to the hospital for a check-up already?”

Yixing shook her head, embarrassed. She couldn't go there, the machinery might have found out the meaning of her tattoos, and then sent everything to the Algorithm. The mirror at her home was already risky, although she always tried to be cautious with it. She had to be one of those independent variables Kris always talked about, and to do that she needed to stay away from all kinds of public machinery, especially the very precise ones of the hospitals, projected to be efficient and cure every single patient perfectly. But Jenna couldn't possibly know any of that. Even if she thought her to be a nice woman and even if Yixing would have loved so much to open up to her, she had to keep the secret; the ways of the Algorithm were infinite.

“You should! The Algorithm will find a solution, like it always does.”

“You're right, thank you for your advice. I will do a check-up as soon as possible..."

Jenna smiled at her, and Yixing kept waving until the older woman entered her own house. Then she balled a fist and promised to herself to find a solution that, for once, didn't contemplate the Algorithm. She herself was going to be the solution.

She rushed down the stairs, too focused on remembering what she had to look for to notice that the people around her seemed happy with what they had.

Yixing arrived at the library after more than half an hour, almost sweating for the fast pace she had kept while walking. Showing her University badge at the reception, she was admitted inside, and she had free access to every single book written since humans had invented the writing system. Truth be told, she was grateful for the fact that, in that social organisation where no opinion was banned, everyone was able to collect information about everything, from mathematics to magic to to philosophy. She knew there had been in the past more than one society that hadn't allowed this, and that thought alone made her shiver.

She entered the hall and sat down in front of a big bright monitor, on which she dialled a simple word: algorithm.

A bunch of titles appeared on the screen, and she scrolled them down until she found what she had been searching for: an informatics book. She wanted to understand what an algorithm was and how it worked. As crazy as it might have sounded, everyone knew what the Algorithm was in charge of, but nearly no one could grasp how it managed to solve problems and give solutions, manoeuvring the entire society. Also, the entire system remained obscure to all of those who hadn't followed specific studies or didn’t work for the Algorithm itself.

While she was scrolling up again all the books present in the library, she saw a title that got her interested, written before the creation of the Algorithm: "The Master of Algorithm". Maybe that could have been useful to her. Yixing touched the miniatures of both books on the screen and selected them; on the monitor appeared a question asking her whether she wanted a digital version or not. Yixing was about to select the hard copy option – she considered it to be more secure; a physical book couldn't be controlled by the technology and therefore by the Algorithm – when she had a reconsideration. Surely, she would have been more traceable and exposed by choosing the virtual copy, but wouldn't she have looked more suspicious if she had chosen the hard copy instead? If she had to look as if she wasn't plotting against the Algorithm (something that could have sounded quite obvious considering the books she was about to borrow), she would have had better act like she had nothing to hide. Her finger gently pressed on the first option while her face remained neutral. No emotion whatsoever transpired from her features. The Algorithm was already watching over her.

She stood up and left the monitor, approaching the main desk at the entrance where she plugged her phone into a mainframe. She dialled the number of her monitor and then waited for the mainframe to download the digital books she had selected on her phone, pressing a small lever-like button to make the display of her mobile device disappear to transform it into something similar to a small USB. It took just a few seconds and then Yixing unplugged her device, ready to leave the place. She didn't know if her plan of deceiving the Algorithm was going to work or not, but all she could do was trying.

Once arrived at home, Yixing finally took a relaxing shower; she let the water become boiling hot and then stayed under the spray enjoying the heat. She felt the water washing away from her skin all the dirt and the delusion from the afternoon, welcoming the nice sensation of regeneration. When she had finished, the girl opted for a sweatshirt and a pair of loose trousers, way more comfortable.

Eating some pre-cooked food she had in her fridge, the girl lazily plopped down on her sofa and the TV casually pronouncing some numbers; she wondered what kind of programme she would have landed on. Yixing didn't expect to hear about their attack on the news – it had failed after all, and generally that kind of action was just quickly mentioned with nothing more than some basic information about when and why it had happened and then brushed off. No one would have gotten angry anyway, so there was no point in concentrating on that news; political and economic matters definitely came first.

Yixing stood up and poured herself a glass of water from the basin, and she frowned when she remembered why it was still not full. That also reminded her she had some work to do.

She grabbed her phone from the pocket of the sweatshirt while going back to the sofa, and opened the file of the first book she had borrowed from the library. She started scrolling through the index, trying to find the one thing she was looking for. And there it was, an entire chapter dedicated to algorithms. She directly jumped to the page the index indicated and started reading.

“An algorithm is an effective method that can be expressed within a finite amount of space and time and in a well-defined formal language for calculating a function. Starting from an initial state and initial input (perhaps empty), the instructions describe a computation that, when executed, proceeds through a finite number of well-defined successive states, eventually producing ‘output’ and terminating at a final ending state.”

That sounded way too complicated, maybe because Yixing had never been keen on mathematics, informatics and everything connected to calculations. But she didn't give up, and went on reading definitions and formulas, with her eyes rapidly scanning the small screen of her phone, millions of black letters passing and creating words that for her brain resulted as incomprehensible as the meaning of life. No wonder such a limited number of people tried to get into the Algorithm system every year.

She was used to studying stuff she didn't like or understand, but at least she had always had some sort of preparation before getting into the adventure. This time, though, she was alone facing a dangerous topic, and she couldn't ask anyone for help.

Still determined to not abandon her goal, when she reached the last page of the chapter, Yixing took a little pause while gathering all the new knowledge, sipping on her glass of water – now nearly empty. The girl went back to the beginning and re-read the definition: she was sure that, if she had concentrated hard enough, she would have found a solution to her enigma.

While she was still waiting for an illumination to come, though, her phone vibrated in her hands, almost frightening her. She thought it could have been something urgent from Kris or someone else from the movement, but then she remembered that they were forbidden from using personal mobile devices to communicate with one another. The Algorithm could read and intercept data from every electronic device. Yixing finally looked at the screen: it was a call from home.

Without thinking any longer, she swiped her fingers on the display to accept the incoming call.

“H-hi?”

“Yixing, oh my, you are alive!” her mother's voice replied.

Even though she wasn't particularly happy to hear from her family, she understood the situation too well: she had sent a cryptic letter a few days back, hoping it would have arrived at her native town in time. She knew it had been both stupid and risky, but she had felt like she needed to at least say goodbye to her family, even if it was in her own peculiar way – which her parents wouldn't have comprehended anyway.

“Why?”

“Your letter! You never write letters. And it was so weirdly written, I- we couldn't get out of our minds that something had happened to you. Is everything okay, there?” her voice sounded so worried, Yixing felt a bit guilty.

“Yes, mom. I'm fine, as you can hear. And sorry for that letter. I’ve been going through a bad period lately, and I don't know, I thought I- never mind.”

“Has something happened at University?”

“No, it was just me, y'know how anxious I am...”

“We heard about what has happened today in the Capitol, and we got even more scared...”

Yixing froze in her position, not really knowing how to react to that. If what her mother meant was their attack, then did it mean that someone had cheated on the movement? On Kris? Or maybe it was just about the usual information.

“W-what happened? What are you- talking about?”

“You don't know?!”

“I... I don't like watching the news, you know that. So yeah,” she could hear her father saying something in the background, but she didn't manage to grasp what he was talking about.

“What did dad say?”

“That one of these days the world will end and you won't even notice it. Anyway, they said that some rebels attacked the mergers of the sewers as a protest, and there’ve been problems with the filtration systems. They said they managed to stop the group before they could go further and that one of them has been kept under control to prevent him from doing it again.”

“Are there any damages?”

“Nothing they can't fix in a day. Mainly dirty water flooded in the streets close to the mergers, but that's not that bad.”

“Do they know who and why?”

“No, Yixing, who knows what they were thinking!”

“Yeah, who knows...” she trailed off, “But I'm sure the Algorithm had seen that coming and that it has already found a solution,” Yixing tried to keep her voice firm while saying so. She hated lying, but she had no other choice; even more, she detested talking about the Algorithm in a praising tone.

“Obviously. Although we were worried you had no water or something like this.”

“The Algorithm provided us with the necessary amount of water, don't worry...” she just repeated the same automatic sentences everyone kept saying every day.

“I see. Well, if everything is really ok-”

“Stay safe, Yixing!” her father interrupted.

“Yes, I will. Bye. I'll call you soon.”

“Bye Yixing!”

Once the call had ended, Yixing closed and threw her phone on the sofa, before doing the same with herself. She also realised the TV was still on, a monotonous noise in the background that was keeping her company. The girl closed her eyes for a second, thinking back on how difficult it was getting to be part of a conspiracy, and she was glad the Algorithm wasn't able to read her mind – at least there still was a place where she could be herself without worries. The point was, the Algorithm controlled and collected data from every single technological device, from the TV to the cockpit of an airplane, and used them to provide the society a peaceful and balanced environment, able to predict possible emergencies and satisfy everyone's needs even before they could feel them themselves.

With her hands, she around to find her phone, now disappeared in the folds of the sofa. When she found it, Yixing resumed what she was doing before the call. Opening again the digital copy of the book, she immersed herself in the reading, trying to get a sense out of it once more.

“It’s a finite number of calculations, and they are well-defined. If we add that each calculation must be as easy as adding 1 to any number...” she started composing the puzzle while talking to herself, “Oh my God. I think- I think I found a way to-” but she stopped in her tracks. She couldn't say it out loud, otherwise there might have been the risk of getting caught, even though she had no guest in the house that could report her reasoning to someone. But then again, the Algorithm had eyes and ears everywhere.

What terrified her wasn't the consequences on her if she had gotten caught (because really no one would have said anything except trying to dissuade her from going on with her plan), she was more afraid the new plan she was elaborating in her mind could have been discovered and once again stopped.

Yixing closed the book and, after copying the important bits on a notebook, pressed the "return" option. Her digital copy was immediately deleted from her phone, leaving no trace whatsoever of its presence on it. The girl pondered whether starting the other book as well was a good option or not; she spared a look outside and she realised only then that it was nearly night time. The sky was getting dark, and the street lamps were already .

She yawned; it had been a tiring day, but the thought that it should have been her last day instead made her shiver. When she had exited that place earlier that day, she had done it with the certainty that she wouldn't have come back. But there she was, sprawled on an old sofa, with the TV on, living as if nothing had happened. That probably was the real human nature, its mere essence.

Her stomach twisted nervously and she couldn't stand the tension anymore, so she turned off all her electronic devices, went to the bathroom, and got changed and ready to go to bed. Maybe all those thoughts would have left her alone if she had had a good sleep.

But sleep took a long time to come, and even when it did arrive, it didn't bring anything good with itself. Tired by nightmares, Yixing woke up feeling more exhausted and shaken than when she had gone to bed; she was used to getting a little sleep, but that day was different, and she knew that. She sensed that.

 

 

 

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AUTHOR'S CORNER... YAY!

Sooo, here I am back again! About this story, I have to say it's completely different from what I've written until now, and it's basically an experiment, a challenge with myself. It was born from a weird nightmare I had one night of... 5 years ago(?) and, ever since then, I have tried putting it down because it's been haunting me. 

The reason why I had to use a bit of genderbender is because the protagonist of my dream was a girl, so I really couldn't imagine it any other way. It's basically an original story I'm too shy and scared to publish, so I hope someone in this fandom will appreciate it nonetheless. As usual, I would love to hear your opinions and suggestions on the plot, and on what I wrote. Please, remember I am *not* a native English speaker, and therefore there might be some mistakes. This is also unbetad, so there might be mistakes everywhere, I'm sorry for that!

Anyway, if you've come until here, I love you a lot and I hope this first chapter doesn't look too messy/weird/whatever. I also hope it intrigued someone.