A day and night cycle existed in their cramped room—something Shen discovered when the lights dimmed for approximately eight hours at a time. The others initially dismissed it as a power failure, but by their third day of confinement, he had convinced himself that the dimming was deliberate, designed to establish a sleep cycle. A artificial nighttime, of sorts.
This wasn't his only observation. Though there was no clock, a circular ambient light ringed the room, with twelve points of peak brightness. Everything else seemed deliberately numbered: one bed, six blankets (despite there being seven of them), ten hygiene capsules, and eight each of buckets and chairs arranged around the room's sole piece of furniture—a table.
When the lights dimmed again, triggering what had become their collective bedtime as they sprawled in various corners of the room, Shen decided to test his theory at the terminal.
12, 1, 6, 10, 8, 8.
///Error: INCORRECT CODE!/// The loud beep jolted everyone awake.
"Why don't you wait until we're all up before you screw our chances, genius?" Dana's words carried more exhaustion than anger, punctuated by a yawn.
"How many more attempts do we have left?" Riley asked.
"Four," Shen whispered, his voice barely audible. Though he braced for their criticism, none came. They understood that he was the only one making a genuine effort to decode their situation—taking notes, tracking patterns, searching for meaning. It was certainly more productive than their own aimless waiting.
Shen grabbed a blanket from a leaning chair and searched for a spot to sleep. As usual, Angela had claimed the bed, while Hayazaki and Dana dozed in their chairs. Kayode kept his vigil by the door, and Surya and Riley had settled on the floor.
Without much thought, Shen chose a spot mere inches from Riley. As he arranged himself on the hard floor, her steady breathing filled his ears, and immediate regret washed over him. He'd positioned himself too close—surely she'd be uncomfortable.
He was about to shift away when Riley turned, nestling her head against his shoulder. Time stopped for Shen.
His body went rigid. Through his arm, he could feel the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat where her chest pressed against him. Her breath ghosted across the nape of his neck in soft, steady waves.
When he tried to create some distance, she only gripped him tighter, mumbling that since there were no pillows and his arms were "extraordinarily soft," they would have to do.
Heat bloomed across Shen's face. He couldn't bring himself to push her away, and her proximity made his thoughts scatter. In his calculations of potential relationships that might develop in their confined space—relationships he might leverage to their advantage—he hadn't explicitly considered growing closer to Riley. At least, not consciously.
Still, he steeled his nerves and adjusted the blanket, spreading it wide enough to cover them both, offering her extra warmth. Only then did he allow himself to drift off to sleep.
When Shen finally woke, he was the last one up—even Gloria had risen before him, a consequence of falling asleep so late and so deeply.
The first thing his bleary eyes focused on was Kay crouching before him, wearing a subtle but mischievous smile. Kay narrowed his eyes and shook his head in mock disapproval. Still half-asleep, Shen couldn't understand Kay's expression until he followed his friend's drifting gaze to the left. There was Riley, still soundly asleep on his shoulder.
A small puddle of drool had formed on his shirt where her mouth rested, and Shen's face instantly blazed red.
Kay's smile widened as he shook his head again, pointing two fingers at his own eyes before directing them at Shen in the universal 'I'm watching you' gesture.
Shen opened his mouth to protest—to explain that she had simply rolled over in her sleep—but before he could get the words out, Hayazaki, who had been giggling behind Kay for the past minute, raised a finger to his lips. "Shhh, don't be too loud or you'll wake her," he whispered, eyebrows dancing suggestively.
"Aww, lover boy," Dana called from behind them, triggering a round of quiet laughter.
Kay nodded, barely containing his amusement. "Hayazaki's right, guys. Let's keep it down. She looks so comfortable—it'd be a shame to disturb her now." This brought on another wave of suppressed snickering.
Every time Shen tried to extract himself from Riley's grip, she only held on tighter, which sent his tormentors into fresh fits of silent laughter. Though barely awake, he was already mentally exhausted enough to want to drift back to sleep.
That was when Angela materialized beside them like a vengeful spirit, her lips chapped and bloodshot eyes fixed on the pair.
"She does look comfortable, doesn't she? Very comfortable," Angela's voice came out shrill and manic. "Must be the shoulder. It's definitely the shoulder."
Before anyone could react, Angela's palm connected with Riley's forehead in a sharp tap. Riley jerked awake, her eyes snapping open to find Angela looming over her. One look at Angela's face told her exactly who had disturbed her sleep, and suddenly both women were wrestling for possession of Shen's shoulder.
Caught between them, Shen looked utterly defeated.
"Hey, I've got an idea," Kay chimed in, barely containing his laughter. "Angela takes the left shoulder, Riley stays on the right."
Angela's eyes lit up at the suggestion, and before Shen could protest, both women had claimed an arm each, clutching them tightly as they settled back into peaceful slumber.
"If only I had a camera," Surya mused, watching Shen's expression of resigned despair. "This is a moment that needs to be preserved for posterity."
/////////////Later that day//////////
A red holographic alert suddenly burst from the center of the room, startling them all. Even Angela, perpetually sleeping, abandoned her bed to investigate.
The message announced they would receive a new member in ten minutes: an Englishman named Alexander Wright.
"So we're getting a new guy," Hayazaki said, shaking his head. "Poor bastard."
"Let's prank him," Surya suggested, a grin spreading across his face.
"How?" Dana leaned forward, intrigued.
"I'm in," Riley volunteered immediately, and Shen nodded his agreement.
"What are we thinking here—something physical?" Kay asked, already plotting.
"Come on, guys," Hayazaki protested, but they were already deep in conspiracy about their soon-to-be bunkmate.
When the ten-minute timer expired, a blinding flash erupted in the room. In its wake, a body materialized among them—a young man who collapsed to the floor as if he'd plummeted from an immeasurable height. His eyes were screwed shut, hands raised defensively as if every sensory organ was under assault.
Riley watched their new arrival, wondering if she had looked equally terrified when she first arrived in what they'd taken to calling "the spaceship."
All six of them perched around the table in a semicircle, like prospectors overlooking their claim. The silence hung thick in the air as they maintained perfectly neutral expressions, hands clasped formally before them.
Finally, Surya rose and cleared his throat. "Good day, young man," he addressed their new member. "I imagine you have questions about how and why you're here."
"What happened—where am I..." the man mumbled, still disoriented. As his vision cleared, the sight of six people arranged before him like a tribunal did nothing to ease his confusion.
"You are exactly where you suspect," Surya intoned. "You are in the afterlife."
"That's bollocks," the man shot back, though his voice trembled. "This must be some kind of joke."
"You died, correct?" Surya's tone suggested he already knew the answer.
The man's gaze dropped to the floor. He had died.
"How did you die?" Shen cut in, earning brief glares from the others for disrupting their performance.
"I jumped," the man responded flatly. "Too many bad investments."
"Oh," Surya said, then quickly cleared his throat. "I mean—we knew that already, Alexander Wright."
"How do you know my name?" Fear crept back into Alexander's voice. Surya smiled, and the group responded in perfect unison:
"We are the judges of the dead and the guides to the afterlife."
Alexander glanced around the sparse room. "Really? This dump is where the dead are judged? That's rough."
Kayode, Dana, Surya, and Hayazaki struggled to contain their laughter.
"Of course," Dana said, her voice grave. "Beyond that sealed door lie two paths. If we judge you worthy, we guide you toward heaven. If we find you wanting, you'll be directed to hell. You need only pass one test."
The man swallowed hard. "What kind of test?" he asked, barely above a whisper.
They rose in perfect synchronization, gesturing toward the room where Angela slept. Alexander followed their lead, the group trailing behind him like a solemn procession.
"What must I do?" he asked, eyeing the room.
"Lie in the bed beside the woman," Shen instructed. "That is the only test you must pass."
"That's it? Nothing else?" Alexander's eyes remained wide with fear, though he couldn't quite suppress a flicker of relief.
"That's all," Dana confirmed. "Lie in the bed and do nothing. And harbor no impure thoughts."
"Oh, right. That makes more sense," Alexander nodded. "But that's nothing. You're sure that's all?"
"Hmph. Don't be so confident, human," Dana warned. "Many men have attempted this trial and sullied their sheets with impure thoughts—some even with impure actions."
"Well, I can assure you I'm not one of those men," Alexander declared. Kayode's only response was a knowing smile as he gestured toward the bed.
Alexander's mood had lightened considerably. Eager to prove the simplicity of the test, he circled to the bedside where Angela lay sprawled across the mattress. He assumed this was part of the test—perhaps to see if he'd take advantage of a sleeping woman. Chuckling to himself, he muttered, "Scooch over, woman," before pushing Angela toward the edge and making himself comfortable. No impure thoughts or actions required.
He turned to them with a triumphant smile, ready to inquire about the nature of heaven, when he noticed they were all struggling to contain their laughter. They wheezed like hyenas—like demons—clutching their sides and covering their mouths. His own smile faltered, mouth hanging slightly open as he became aware of a sulfurous heat emanating from his right.
Slowly, he turned to find a woman with bloodshot eyes boring into him. Crystallized crust had formed at the corners of her eyes, spilling over onto the dark bags beneath them. Her lips were thick and severely chapped. And she was furious.
"Were you the one who interrupted my sleep?" she growled, her voice like gravel scraping against metal.
In that moment, Alexander understood what the others had known all along: he wasn't awaiting judgment to determine if he'd go to hell.
He was already there.