After the man finished, Martine stumbled from the session room, not caring about the weaponized bots who followed. Her misaligned shift dress didn't mean much, either. What bothered her most was the roaring ocean in one ear, and the whisper of her name in the other.

Sick and clammy, she reached her room. Martine was ready to heave herself at Bastion's feet and proclaim acceptance, but her betrayal of self would have to wait until tomorrow's meeting.

For now, she trembled on the bed pallet, an empty lot filling her heart. All the air left the room, and a pinpoint of blackness materialized on the ceiling. Slowly, the abyss traipsed along the wall, to the floor, snaking its way to the side of her bed pallet. There, The Shadow hovered, waiting.

"I'm ready to accept my role," she whispered.

Her words were the equivalent of an invitation. In one second, the Shadow filled the room, and in the next, the room was empty save for her. Except, she wasn't really herself anymore.

Nothing of the old Martine remained, or would ever re-surface.

The next day began as any other: wash, stretch, and walk to the meeting hall. She deviated from the norm during the day's meeting, when she declared herself ready. Bastion went to her, scanned her eyes with a pen-like device, read over the instrument's measurements, and seemed pleased at the results. He grinned all the way to his blond eyebrows, and then patted Martine on the head.

"You are ready. What a wonderful day," he said.

Two bots led her from the room. She walked past unfamiliar faces, scared faces, anxious faces, jealous faces.

I hope they find their way to acceptance.

A hand brushed hers, but it did little to dispel her trance. She didn't even look back to see who had touched her, nor would her mind have registered Sam in any way. Memories of her old life were fading fast, replaced by a desire to be a part of the world, to be accepted.

Martine knew now what actions to avoid, and what actions best served her need to belong. She would live a long life, but not necessarily a full or meaningful life. In her old age, the Shadow would seep from her heart until it reached every organ, until finally, it overtook her completely.

But that would not happen for decades, and when it did, Martine would welcome the end.

~*~

It was remarkable the psychological and physical knowledge they were able to gleam from Samantha Benning. She had been doped up, hooked to tubes, and monitored via expensive and innovative tech. Through bits of wires, she whispered all her memories, thoughts, and feelings to the State.

Martine received the same treatment.

Crendan had called them work camps, but what Un-Diligents went through was far worse than physical labor. It was a full reversal of self, a loss of power on the most minute level. Afterward, citizens were released into new environments, because they couldn't go back home, not with how different they were.

Post-treatment, citizens integrated into different lives. They were monitored, and brought back to Prominent facilities if they showed signs of reverting back to their former ways. Sam would never be released. She was too full of secrets. Every day she told the interface something new. Martine was scheduled to be released in a week, probably in southern Georgia where her new conservative views would mix in well.

If Ty or Damon were to bump into Martine on the street, she would never acknowledge their faces.