The air felt like knives.
Naya stood frozen between the two switches, her fingers twitching with indecision. The red button pulsed slowly, like a heartbeat. The white one glowed with a cold, mechanical stillness.
Her reflection on the glass wall was warped. Split. Two women staring back—one carved from suffering, the other molded in the image of someone else's dream.
But which one was she?
Kael leaned against the doorway, watching her with clinical amusement, as if this was just another experiment to observe. Just another rat in a cage with a moral puzzle.
"This is what your story comes down to," he said. "A decision. Her life or yours."
"You're sick," Naya breathed.
"Perhaps," Kael replied. "But so are you."
⸻
Inside the chamber, the girl on the table stirred—eyes fluttering open, chest heaving against the restraints. Her lips moved, but no sound came. Only a silent scream, raw and desperate.
And in her eyes…
Recognition.
Tears welled in Naya's eyes before she could stop them.
Because that wasn't just another version of her.
That was her.
The real Naya Dane. The girl who had been tortured, experimented on, hollowed out and rebuilt in fragments.
She remembered everything now.
The cold needles. The drugs. The voices in her head. The way Kael whispered that she was "just data" and that her "humanity was a variable to eliminate."
She had died in that room.
And what stood now—her flesh, her pain, her rebellion—was a phoenix of stitched memories and stolen identity.
But her soul?
It still belonged to that girl.
⸻
Kael's voice echoed in her mind like a noose tightening.
"One lives. One dies."
She looked at the red switch.
Save her.
Erase yourself.
Her legs trembled.
She had fought through beatings, starvation, loneliness, and delusions—just to discover she was a side effect of someone else's story.
Was it noble to die for the truth?
Or cowardly to walk away?
A soft whisper broke through the silence.
From behind the glass.
"…me…"
Naya turned sharply. The girl was mouthing a single word over and over.
"Help me."
⸻
Naya's knees buckled.
For the first time in weeks, maybe months, she allowed herself to cry. Not silent sobs or rageful screams—but the kind of cry that came from recognizing yourself in someone else's suffering.
And that was all she needed.
She moved toward the red switch.
"Stop," Kael barked.
She didn't.
"I said STOP!"
She slammed her hand onto the red button.
The lights exploded in a shower of sparks.
The alarms howled.
And behind the glass, the restraints on the real Naya began to unlock.
⸻
Kael lunged at her, grabbing her arm and yanking her backward. "You selfish, stupid girl—"
She didn't hear the rest.
She swung her elbow back, hard, and connected with his jaw. He stumbled, not expecting resistance. Naya didn't wait. She grabbed the nearest metal rod and brought it down on the console.
Electricity sparked, screens shattered.
"NO!" Kael howled.
Behind the glass, the girl was sitting up, mask falling from her face. Blood dripped from her nose, but her eyes—her eyes were blazing.
Naya turned just as Kael tackled her to the ground.
He pinned her, one hand around her throat.
"You want to die?" he hissed. "Then I'll give you a noble death."
Her vision blurred.
But just before she passed out—she heard the hiss of a door opening.
Footsteps.
Another presence.
Kael's grip faltered.
And the voice that followed made the world tilt.
A voice she never thought she'd hear again.
"Get your hands off my sister."
⸻
Naya blinked through the fog, and there—standing in the broken doorway—was Zairen.
His face bloodied, one arm dragging a crowbar, the other curled around a pistol.
But it was him.
Alive.
Kael spun toward him, pulling a blade from his coat. "How the hell—"
Zairen didn't wait for the rest.
He fired.
Kael dropped, shoulder gushing red.
And then chaos swallowed the room.
⸻
Naya scrambled up, barely registering the pain in her ribs. She ran into the chamber, dropping to her knees beside the original girl—herself.
Their eyes met.
Both women broken. Both women whole in new ways.
"You came back," the girl rasped.
Naya nodded. "I remembered who I am."
"You always were the brave one."
"No," Naya whispered. "I just… I needed to find you."
They embraced, sobbing into each other's shoulders.
But it wasn't over.
Zairen's voice broke through the moment.
"Naya, we have to go. Now."
⸻
The hallway outside was filling with smoke.
Security systems screeched warnings.
Kael groaned in the corner, crawling toward a dropped keycard.
And from the far end of the corridor—footsteps.
Heavy. Fast.
More guards.
More weapons.
Zairen tossed Naya the pistol. "You trust me?"
She looked at the girl beside her—the one she had once been. The one she chose to save.
She turned to Zairen.
And nodded.
"Then run."
⸻
They took off down the corridor, gunfire echoing behind them.
Doors slammed. Sirens screamed. Walls flashed red.
But for the first time…
She felt free.
Almost.
⸻
As they reached the final corridor, a voice crackled through the speaker system.
Kael's voice.
"You think this is the end?"
"You're still mine."
"You all are."
And the hallway ahead of them?
Collapsed in fire.