You never really know yourself…Until you bleed from someone else's wounds.
The lab was too quiet.
Even the hum of the power cores had faded, leaving only the subtle hiss of leaking pod fluid and the faint crunch under Asher's boots as he stepped across shards of glass.
The shattered containment pod at the far end still steamed, its edges glowing faintly where the seals had ruptured. Something had broken out.
Correction—someone.
And that someone was him.
Sort of.
The figure stood barefoot in the center of the corridor, slick with amniotic residue, silver cuffs still clinging to its wrists like ceremonial restraints. Same build. Same jawline. Same dark hair matted against a pale forehead.
But the eyes…
Where Asher's carried trauma, depth, and fire desperately held in check, this Variant's eyes were soulless—glinting like two empty mirrors with no one on the other side.
"Hey there," the Variant drawled, tilting his head. "Nice body. Mind if I try it on for size?"
He moved like a hallucination, impossible and fast.
Asher barely raised his arm in time—the Variant's elbow skimmed his face, slicing skin as it grazed past. He spun, countered, caught the Variant in a body-lock—only to be reversed a heartbeat later and thrown down the corridor.
This thing fights like me, Asher realized.No. Not like me. Like I used to fight. Before I started pulling punches.
The corridor pulsed with energy as alarms flickered—motion sensors picking up too many identical life signs. The system couldn't tell them apart.
Maybe neither could Asher.
-------------------------------
Enter: Liora Nocturne
Just as the Variant lunged again, a clang and crash echoed through the lab—one of the sealed bulkhead doors exploded inward in a hail of sparks and twisted steel.
A silhouette stood against the backlight.
She wore a dark leather trench that brushed her knees, parted just enough to show the glittering hint of neon lace beneath. Her silver heels struck the ground like punctuation, and her black lipstick curled into a smirk the moment her eyes landed on the two identical men locked in battle.
"Two Ashers?" she purred. "Gods, I love when the universe gives me gifts."
She strode forward, pulling what looked like a compact makeup mirror from her coat—only to twist it into a high-frequency resonance device and tase the Variant in the chest.
He spasmed violently, snarling.
"Which one of you's the morally ambiguous one?" she asked, glancing between them.
Asher, breathing hard, pointed to himself. "That's... probably me."
"Perfect," she winked. "You're the cute one."
Before Asher could protest, she threw the Variant back with a heel kick to the chest, just long enough for Asher to slam his own fist into his alternate's jaw.
The Variant collapsed—but didn't stay down.
Liora tilted her head. "Resilient. Dangerous. Hot." She cracked her neck. "Just my type."
After locking the Variant in a resonance-dampened containment field, Liora guided Asher and a freshly-arrived Mira (blood on her temple, eyes tight) into a nearby safe room built into the lab complex.
The space was small—more panic room than lounge.
And cramped.
Liora made herself comfortable immediately, lounging across the couch like she'd paid rent. The tension was heavy—emotional static thick enough to taste. Mira leaned against the wall, arms crossed, refusing to meet Asher's gaze.
Liora ran a hand through her dark curls. "Let me guess. You two have history, unresolved trauma, probably a kiss that shouldn't have happened, and at least one shared dream you don't talk about."
Mira shot her a flat look. "Do you ever not flirt?"
"Only when it's boring." She turned to Asher, eyes glinting. "You're not boring."
Asher exhaled. "You always dress like you're about to seduce a fire demon mid-battle?"
"Only on Wednesdays." She leaned in close enough for her perfume—spiced orchid and danger—to wrap around him. "I am working."
He frowned. "You always hit on your assignments?"
She grinned. "No. Just the ones who look like they need to be reminded they're still human."
Her fingers brushed his collarbone. It wasn't quite intimate. More like… testing. Searching for cracks in the armor.
"I like you, Asher Blackwood," she whispered. "You're like a broken mirror. Everything sharp and bleeding."
He didn't move.
"But don't get comfortable. Not every girl wants to fix you."She kissed the side of his neck—barely a graze."Some of us just want to watch you crack deeper."
-------------------------------------------
Creepy Clue – The Song Beneath the Lab
Later that night, when sleep wouldn't come, Asher wandered.
The lab's lower levels were colder. Unused.
And then he heard it.
A lullaby. Twisted. Played backward through static.
It led him deeper, down stairwells with walls that were no longer made of steel—but calcified bone.
There, at the end of a hallway that shouldn't exist, stood a door with no handle. Black veins spidered out from its edges.
The air was wrong.
He reached out. The surface was ice.
Then came the whispers.
"Do you remember the fire? The white eyes?You left someone behind.You shut the door.You survived.But did you deserve to?"
Blood dripped from his nose.
His shadow moved without him—twitched. Looked at him.
He blinked.
The door was gone.
[End Of Chapter 14]
--------------------------------------
Back in the safe room, Liora slept on the couch—head resting on Asher's shoulder, breathing slow and rhythmic.
Mira was nowhere to be seen.
Asher stood.
Approached the containment chamber.
It was empty.
No Variant. No alarms.
Just a single note, scrawled in smeared red ink across the inside of the glass:
You are me.I am you.And soon—there won't be enough room for both.
Preview:
Chapter 15 – The Girl Who Dreamed in Knives
Asher comes face to face with someone from his past—a girl who remembers every version of him, even the ones he hasn't become. She brings with her a warning, a weapon... and a secret about one of the women closest to him.
Because not all memories are real.And not all allies are human.