The air inside Helena's house felt heavier after her decision. Mira had been tense since she realized her daughter had signed up, while Selene maintained her enigmatic, almost indifferent demeanor, though her eyes gleamed with curiosity.
In the kitchen, Mira was chopping vegetables with more force than necessary. The sound of the knife against the cutting board echoed through the small house. Helena sat at the table, spinning a mug of tea between her hands.
"So…" Helena began nonchalantly, "are you going to tell me about my father, or will you keep pretending he never existed?"
The question made Mira pause for a moment. She set the knife aside and sighed, staring at her daughter.
"You've never asked about him before."
"Because you always avoided the topic. And if I'm going into this crazy Process, I at least want to know where I come from."
Mira hesitated, as if carefully choosing her words.
"Your father was…" She paused, her eyes seeming to get lost in a distant memory. "Someone who shouldn't have been there. He was from the Second Caste."
Helena raised her eyebrows, surprised.
"The Second Caste? And how did you meet him?"
Mira looked away, appearing uncomfortable.
"During the Process. He was undercover, working to… uncover things. I never knew exactly what."
"And did he know about you?" Helena asked, feeling a knot form in her throat. What she really wanted to know was whether he knew about her.
Mira shook her head.
"He didn't. When I found out I was pregnant, he had already disappeared. They said he died, but…" She stopped again, her expression hardening. "There are too many things that don't make sense."
Helena was silent for a moment, processing the information.
"Did you ever try to find out more about him?"
"I couldn't. And you can't either," Mira said, looking directly at her. "The Process isn't just dangerous because of the trials. It does things to you. Things you don't notice."
Helena frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"I can't say," Mira replied, her voice quieter, almost a whisper.
Selene joined the conversation with her usual calmness.
"It's no use insisting, Helena. There are secrets that can't be told."
Helena felt her frustration grow.
"This is ridiculous. You talk as if you're afraid of something that doesn't even exist."
Mira gave a bitter smile.
"It exists. And one day, you'll understand."
Helena stayed silent for a moment, thinking about what she had just heard. But another question came to her mind.
"You participated in the Process," she began carefully. "Can't you give me any tips?"
Mira laughed, but it was a bitter laugh.
"If I could, don't you think I would've prepared you?"
"Then why can't you?" Helena insisted, frustrated. "What's the problem?"
Selene chimed in, appearing silently as she always did.
"There are things that can't be said, my dear," she said with an enigmatic smile. "Not because we don't want to, but because we can't."
Helena frowned.
"That doesn't make sense."
Selene chuckled softly.
"Not everything in the world makes sense, my granddaughter. What matters is knowing how to play the game. Study for the first trial—it's where most people fail."
——
Later, Helena left the house, needing some fresh air. The streets of the Fifth Caste were bustling, with people coming and going from their work in the fields and storage facilities. Everything seemed the same, but now she saw things from a new perspective.
Near a wooden bridge that crossed the underground river, she found Ethan. He was talking with two other young workers, Ayla and Dorian, who worked alongside them.
"Helena!" Ethan called, waving with a wide grin. "I heard you've finally lost your mind."
"And that you signed your death sentence," Ayla added, looking worried.
Helena leaned against the bridge railing, crossing her arms.
"At least I'm doing something different. And you? Planning to spend the rest of your lives harvesting vegetables?"
Dorian laughed.
"And what's wrong with a quiet life?"
"Quiet?" Helena shot back sarcastically. "Because being underestimated by the system and living on the brink of starvation is what you call 'quiet'?"
Ayla sighed, looking away.
"My aunt tried once. She never came back. I don't know if she passed or…"
"Or if she was eliminated," Dorian said, serious for the first time.
Ethan looked at Helena, his eyes carefully evaluating her.
"And you? Are you really ready for this?"
Helena gave a sly smile but didn't answer. Instead, she looked at the river flowing silently below them.
"You know they won't make it easy," Ayla said. "And it's not just about the trials. It's about who you are. If they don't like what they see, you'll never stand a chance."
"Good thing I'm good at hiding who I am," Helena replied, her tone ironic.
"No one knows what happens afterward," Ethan said, his voice more serious. "That's what intrigues me the most. They disappear, but they leave no trace."
Helena looked at him, intrigued.
"And that doesn't scare you?"
Ethan shrugged.
"It does. But it also makes me want to understand."
——
That night, Selene knocked softly on Helena's bedroom door.
"May I come in?" she asked, holding a small wooden box.
Helena nodded, sitting up on the bed. Selene closed the door behind her and sat beside her granddaughter.
"I know your mother is overly protective sometimes, but she has her reasons."
Selene opened the box and pulled out a small piece of metal engraved with inscriptions. It was a rune, similar to those Helena had seen on the walls of some caves, but smaller and more refined. The design on the metal was intricate, seeming to shift under the light.
"What is this?" Helena asked, curious.
"Something you'll encounter at some point," Selene replied. "The runes aren't just symbols. They have power, even if no one fully understands how they work."
"Power? What kind of power?"
Selene smiled enigmatically.
"You'll see. Just remember, not everything that looks like freedom is truly freedom."
Helena held the small object, feeling a faint pulsation, almost like a heartbeat.
"Do you know what happens to the candidates after they pass?"
Selene shook her head slowly.
"No. And to be honest, maybe it's better not to know."