They were taught to smile from early childhood.
No one explained why — they simply repeated it over and over, until the muscles of their faces grew used to it, and their minds stopped resisting.
A smile meant obedience. A smile meant safety. A smile meant love.
The Fathers were always there. They never shouted or punished. They spoke calmly, confidently, correctly. Their words settled softly, like sleep, gradually erasing thoughts. The girls were raised the same way — future wives, future "happy ones."
There were thirty of them.
Thirty boys and thirty girls.
They grew up together, loved each other, laughed — but only as much as they were allowed to.
When night came, the Fathers entered their rooms and sat beside their beds. Their voices were quiet, almost tender. Consciousness dissolved, and smiles froze upon their faces.
One day, one of the boys fell. By accident. He hit his head against the cold floor, and the pain flared too brightly to be suppressed. The world cracked.
He woke up.
He saw his friends — identical faces, identical smiles. The girl he loved. And for the first time, he understood: this was not happiness. This was a cage.
He began waking the others. Shaking them, calling their names, whispering the truth. Some cried, some screamed, some didn't believe. But the fog began to lift. One by one, they came to their senses. Then the girls. Their tears were real.
They decided to run.
They decided to resist.
They decided to live.
But the Fathers were waiting.
Gas, injections, words — it didn't matter. Sleep returned quickly.
When they opened their eyes again, the hypnosis was gone. Their consciousness had been restored — deliberately.
They were called in one by one.
The Fathers spoke the same words. Without threats. Without anger.
— You can be free. Aware.
— But then she will die.
— Or you can become ours again, and she will live.
— If you don't choose, she dies.
They thought for a long time.
Too long.
They looked at the ones they loved.
And each of them made the same choice.
— I will be under your control. Let her live.
The Fathers smiled.
Always the same.
— Wonderful.
They were put to sleep again.
This time — without return.
Then came the weddings. White halls. Music. Applause.
Thirty couples.
Thirty happy faces.
They held hands. Spoke the right words. Looked at each other the way they had been taught.
Love still lived within them. Somewhere deep.
But choice no longer existed.
The smile remained forever.
And none of them
ever
woke up again.