Clankshouts! Boot-thunders! Alarm-bawling sirens that went WAHHN-WAHHN like a very offended brass goose!
"THIS WAY!" one Sho shouted.
"WHICH WAY IS THIS WAY?!" another Sho shouted back.
Eidola, quiet as snowfall, was being half-carried, half-dragged, entirely confused along with them.
They burst through a rust-snarled side gate and stumbled down a slope into a canal path, a narrow stretch of cobbled muck flanked by sluggish black water and pipes that coughed steam like sick dragons.
Rain began. Of course it did. A thin drizzle at first. Then a proper soak.
"Brilliant," Sho wheezed. "Perfect weather for being chased by… by… who even are they?!"
Behind them, the Null Concordat soldiers, "GET THEM! DON'T LET THE SUBJECT ESCAPE!"
"Oh, they sound upset," one Sho muttered.
"Just run!" another snapped.
And so they ran.
Four Shos. One girl. Zero coordination.
"SORRY!"
"THAT WAS ME!"
"WHICH ME?!"
They reached a fork along the canal where the path split. One veering into a pipe-choked underpass, the other climbing toward a tangle of iron-limbed trees and fog.
"Left!" someone yelled.
"No, right!"
"JUST PICK A DIRECTION, IDIOT!"
And they did.
They stumbled up into the forested path. The forest wasn't really a forest. It was what happened when industry tried to grow leaves. Iron-root pipes twisted through the soil. Trees stood thin and tired, their bark stained soot-grey. The air smelled like rainwater and concrete.
One Sho finally stopped.
Bent over. Hands on knees. Breathing like he'd just outrun his entire life.
"…okay…" he gasped. "Okay. I think… I think we're not being immediately chased."
A second Sho stepped beside him, far more upright. Still breathing hard, but controlled. Watching.
"…where are the others?" the second one asked. He took off his coat, visibly exhausted.
The first Sho froze. Slowly… very slowly… he turned his head.
"…there were… four of us."
"Yes."
"…and now there are…"
"Two."
"…oh no."
They both looked at Eidola. She looked back, calm, unreadable, rain collecting in her pale hair like starlight caught in threads.
"…oh no," Sho repeated, softer.
Silence settled in, broken only by drizzle tapping leaves and distant, echoing machinery.
"We go back."
Sho blinked. "What?"
The second Sho, something about him felt… sharper. His posture straighter. His gaze heavier, like it weighed things before allowing them to exist.
"We go back," he repeated. "Retrieve the others. Then proceed."
Sho stared at him like he'd just suggested politely knocking on the enemy's front door again.
"Go back? Back-back?? As in, where the shouting and the shooting and the very angry copycogs are??"
"Yes."
"That's a terrible plan!"
"It is a necessary one."
Sho ran a hand through his wet hair, pacing in small, frantic circles.
"We have a mission!" he said. "Retrieve the… the…" he glanced at Eidola, lowering his voice, "… superweapon, apparently, and then leave! That's the plan! That's the only plan!"
"We can't just leave them!"
Sho stopped.
"Why is that?" The second Sho stepped closer, not aggressive, just… firm. Certain.
"There are four of us. That is not coincidence. That is condition."
He frowned. "Condition of what?"
"I don't know." A pause.
He let out a small, helpless laugh. "Brilliant. We're four, we don't know why, we lost half of ourselves, and you want to go back into the nightmare factory to, what, collect the rest of our personality set?"
"Yes."
"That sounds ridiculous."
Sho opened his mouth, then closed it. Because he didn't have a better answer.
The drizzle thickened, pattering against leaves and rusted pipework. Somewhere far off, boom. A dull cannon echo.
Eidola shifted slightly in Sho's arms.
Both of them noticed.
The second Sho's gaze flickered to her. Not soft, not warm. Careful. Measured. Like she was something… important. Then back at Sho, then somewhere else. Something about his gaze saying that he could carry her better.
Sho swallowed, looking down at her. She didn't react. Just watched him with those deep, starry eyes like she already knew how this conversation would end.
"…we can't just leave them," Sho murmured.
"Then decide quickly." He didn't even look at him.
"…you're very intense, you know that?"
"No."
"…right." Sho exhaled, long and shaky.
"…okay," he said. "Okay. We- we think first. Just for a moment. Then we decide. Together."
The second Sho tilted his head slightly. "…fine."
It wasn't agreement. But it wasn't refusal either. And somehow, that felt like progress.
…
Meanwhile, the other two Shoremonts were running. Not gracefully. Not strategically. Just ran. Boots slapping slick cobblestones, breath hitching, their brown coats flapping like distressed laundry in a stormwind.
"WE ARE BEING CHASED," Sho declared loudly, mid-sprint, "which I would like to formally object to-!"
"Left!" said the other Sho.
The alley he charged into was narrower, darker, and significantly more ominous. Flickerlamps buzzed overhead with a dying glow, casting jumpy shadows that looked like they were dancing.
"…this feels incorrect," he added.
"Correct," said the other Sho, already following anyway.
Behind them, "THERE! CUT THEM OFF!" Boot-thunders. Rifle-clinks. A whistle shrieked.
"Oh, they're VERY committed," Sho huffed. "I respect it. I dislike it, but I respect it!"
"Forward," the calmer Sho said.
"I AM forward! This is my forward!" He vaulted a crate. Clipped it with his knee and spun halfway around. Recovered with a dramatic flourish like he absolutely meant to do that.
They burst out of the alley into a wider street. Barely wider, really, just enough for a crooked row of soot-stained buildings leaning into each other like gossiping old men.
Rain slicked everything silver-grey. Steam hissed from ground vents, pshhhht-pshhhht, like the city itself was whispering secrets it couldn't keep.
"Right," said the quiet Sho.
"Right!" the loud one echoed…
… and turned left.
A beat.
"…I'm sensing a pattern," he added.
"Your pattern is wrong."
"Yes, but it's consistent!"
Gunfire cracked behind them and they both flinched.
"NEW PLAN!" the loud Sho yelped. "LESS GETTING SHOT!"
They spotted it at the same time, a half-collapsed building wedged between two leaning structures, its door hanging crooked, windows shattered, its sign long since rusted into illegibility.
"IN THERE!" Sho pointed before they dove in without question.
"Close the door!"
"I am closing the door!"
"Then close it better!"
"What does that even mean?!"
The door slammed behind them with a hollow CLONK.
Silence.
Dust floated in the air like it had nowhere better to be. The place smelled of old wood, damp metal, and something faintly burnt, like a memory of fire rather than fire itself.
Sho leaned against a wall, wheezing. "…we are alive," he said.
"Yeah, for now," the other replied. "We lost the others."
Sho looked at him. Up close, the difference was clearer now. He was still processing it. They had the same face. Same hair. Same everything. But this one stood still. Well, stiller than he was. Eyes scanning. Not darting, tracking. Like every detail mattered, even the ones no one else would notice.
"…you're weird," Sho said.
"We're literally the same person," he sighed.
"You don't even look like me."
"Are you sure about that?" Sho squinted at him.
"There is no way my nose looks like that!"
He rolled his eyes, "Whatever."
The other Sho started pacing. "What are we going to do? This is a mess! We should have sticked together."
"You ran the other way."
"… Out of panic, yeah!"
A pause.
Sho pushed off the wall, already wandering. Touching things, poking at debris, kicking a loose bit of metal that clattered far too loudly.
"Also," he added, "in my defense, there were four of us, which is already too many of me to focus. But now, I am focus. Trust m-"
He stopped. His eyes lit up. There, draped over a broken chair, was a pair of cracked, brass-rimmed goggles, one lens slightly fogged, the strap frayed but still intact. "Oh shiny!"
"Don't touch anythi-" the other Sho started but it was too late.
Sho had already shoved the goggles onto his head, crooked, one lens catching the dim light.
He turned dramatically.
"…well?"
The other Sho stared at him.
"…why."
"This improves morale!"
"It really does not."
"It improves my morale!" he corrected.
A beat.
"…whatever," the other said.
They moved deeper inside. Floorboards creaked like they had complaints. Walls bore scorch marks, thin, jagged streaks like something had lashed out in a hurry. Tables were overturned. Papers scattered. Not abandoned. Interrupted.
Sho crouched, picking up a crumpled sheet.
"…Replication Order… These are from the enemy," he muttered.
"We are in their hideout."
The other Sho had already found a panel, half-broken but still faintly glowing. He brushed dust aside, revealing switches, dials, a flickering display. He tapped it and the machine responded with a tired beep… boop… wheeze.
"Oh, it lives," Sho said, peering over his shoulder. "That's concerning."
The calmer Sho said nothing. He read, lines of text scrolled in pale, flickering light.
Sho glanced at it once. Twice. Then leaned back. "…there are too many words."
"Yes."
"I will leave the words to you."
"… Thank you?"
Sho nodded, satisfied, and wandered off again. Rifling through drawers, opening cabinets, narrating softly to himself.
"Broken thing… more broken thing… mysterious object that I will not touch because I value being alive… oh?" He paused before dug deeper and pulled out two small, wrist-bound devices. Brass-cased. Glass-faced. Faintly ticking.
"…look!" he called. "Talking bracelets that hopefully do not explode."
"Uncertain," the other Sho replied without looking.
Sho slipped one onto his wrist anyway.
"…well, if I explode, at least I'll do it stylishly."
"Sho. Come here." The other Sho called.
Sho didn't immediately respond. He was halfway through inspecting a drawer that contained exactly three screws and a very suspicious spoon.
"…if this is about more words," he said, "I must warn you, I am currently in a delicate relationship with not reading."
"Just come here."
Sho sighed dramatically, abandoned the spoon, and wandered over anyway. He leaned beside him, squinting at the flickering panel like it personally offended him.
"What am I looking at?"
The other Sho didn't answer immediately. His eyes moved across the screen. Not rushing, not skimming. Carefully. Like he was assembling something invisible.
Bits of text flickered in and out:
SUBJECT INDEX.
BATCH DESIGNATION.
STABILITY VARIANCE.
Sho tapped the side of the panel lightly.
"…this place isn't just a lab… it's a sorting place."
A pause.
The other Sho glanced at him, brief, but noticing. He frowned slightly, thinking.
"…those tanks," he said slowly. "Back there. They weren't empty."
"No."
"…and the shapes inside weren't all the same." He gestured vaguely at the panel. "…and this… this feels like lists. Not notes. Not experiments. Lists."
"Yes." Sho's expression shifted, just a little. Less playful. Still soft, but trying.
"…of people?"
"Of subjects."
"…that's worse."
The panel crackled faintly. A new line stabilised, clearer than the rest, as if the machine itself insisted on it.
CODENAME: EIDOLON BLOOM
Sho blinked.
"…that's her." He leaned in closer now, not reading, exactly, but recognising.
"…I saw that word," he murmured. "On the glass."
"Technically, we did, but yes." Sho stood straight.
Sho tapped the edge of the screen again, softer this time. He studied Eidola's data, and scrolled to other subject's data, then back to hers, then to another entry, then back to hers. For some reason, she had way more data compared to the other subjects, some of her data were even classified.
The other Sho leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose. "…that's not normal, is it."
"Not at all."
"…say something reassuring."
"No."
"…alright." He rubbed the back of his neck, pacing once in a small circle before returning again, like his thoughts couldn't sit still.
"…okay, so," he said, quieter now, "there are many… whatever they are…"
"Yes."
"…and she's one of them…"
"Yes." He kept swiping through the data "…but also not really."
"What?"
"…her file is marked."
"Marked how?"
A beat.
"Only her data has the codename. Eidolon Bloom. The others are just like… abandoned subjects."
"So what, you're saying she's special?"
"That's what I'm getting."
"How?"
"I'm not sure. But we will find out when we bring her to the Cogbound Legion."
Sho nodded. "Then we better get this over with quick. She doesn't look like she belongs here."
He reached into the drawer again, pulling out the second bracelet and holding it up.
"…also, good news," he added, tone lighter again, just a little forced, "if we find the others, we can pretend to be organised."
"… very unlikely."
"…I believe in us."
He slipped it into his coat but still hadn't moved from the panel, reading.
"…you're doing that thing again," Sho said, half-distracted, tugging one glove tighter. "The silent-thinking-that-feels-important thing."
No response.
"…should I be concerned?"
The other Sho didn't look at him.
"I am using the panel."
"…for what."
An input after another. A dial turned, tick…tick…tick…
Lights on the console shifted from a dull amber to a thin, pulsing green. Sho's brows lifted slightly.
"…that feels like a 'tell me before you do it' situation."
"Relax, I am sending a stress signal to the Cogbound Legion."
"Good, we are very much… stressed.
The panel chirped, beep…boop…chrrk, like it was waking up after a long nap it didn't enjoy. Coordinates began aligning across the screen.
"…I have included location, mission status, and asset confirmation."
Sho froze for half a second. "…you told them we found her."
"Yes."
Sho looked at Eidola's name still faintly flickering on the panel. Then back at him. "…they'll come faster now."
"Indeed."
"…good." It came out quieter than expected. Not fear. Just… something settling.
Sho let out a small breath, rubbing the back of his neck.
"…okay, yeah. That's good. That's… that's actually really good."
He nodded to himself, like he needed to believe it twice.
The panel gave a soft, final ping.
Signal sent.
Somewhere out there, beyond the rain and smoke and too-many-machines, someone would hear it. Sho watched the screen a moment longer.
He turned toward the doorway, peeking out at the rain-slick street. The lamps flickered. The city breathed in low, mechanical sighs.
"…we find the others first," he said. "Then we meet them. Together."
"Yes." Sho nodded once.
"…good. I like plans that include not being split into confusing pieces."
"…that outcome is preferable."
Sho glanced back at him, a little amused again.
"…you're getting better at agreeing with me."
"I am recognising efficiency."
"…I will take that as friendship growth."
"I guess..."
"Ha!" He elbowed him victoriously, before they stepped out into the drizzle, boots splashing softly against the cobbles. The other Sho followed.