While we were walking, there was no shortage of incidents.

  About halfway through, our prisoner, seemingly having gathered her strength, tried to break free from Neight's grip. She abruptly crouched down and swept her leg to trip him. Neight stumbled but regained his balance within a single step, refusing to let go of the girl no matter how much she struggled to escape. Eventually, he grew tired of her attempts, sighed in annoyance, slung M79 over his shoulder, and carried her the rest of the way like a sack of potatoes. At first, she kicked and squirmed, clearly unhappy with her new position, but later, she seemed to resign herself to her fate and fell silent.

  I trailed behind, merely observing as she hung limply, occasionally lifting her head to glance at me. It was a disturbing sight.

  It was also unclear what we were going to do with her. Neight hadn’t said a word about it. I was worried she might somehow free herself and cause problems aboard the ship. Yet Neight clearly had some kind of plan for her. At the very least, it was obvious they knew each other, though from what I’d seen and heard, their relationship could hardly be called friendly. Could he still be clinging to the idea of persuading her to join us? After all, he had offered her that earlier.

  At that moment, I remembered how not long ago, I had been a prisoner myself, hanging by a thread...

  Brrr… I don’t want to think about it anymore!

  While I tried to shake off the unpleasant memories, we slowly made our way forward along the now-familiar forest trails and eventually reached our ship.

  We left M79 in the cabin, where Neight tied her hands to one of the lower bunk supports to ensure she wouldn’t escape, and then we headed to the kitchen. There we sat across from each other at the table, finally removing our helmets.

  Neight was visibly tense. I could tell by the way he folded his arms and stared downward, frowning, avoiding my gaze. I felt uneasy too. There were so many questions that I didn’t even know where to begin. We had a difficult conversation ahead of us. We sat in awkward, oppressive silence for about a minute, though it felt much longer. His silence was maddening. Could things really be so bad that he couldn’t force out a single word? I couldn’t bear to wait any longer.

  "She won’t escape, will she?" I asked cautiously, hinting at our prisoner and trying to start the conversation indirectly with a topic that was distant but still pressing.

  Neight flinched, as if my words had snapped him out of deep thought. His amber eyes cleared, and his expression softened, though it remained somber. He finally looked at me, and our eyes met. A wave of embarrassment washed over me, but I managed to hold myself together and push away any inappropriate thoughts. There was no room for that right now.

  "I don’t think she’ll manage. I tied her up securely," he replied.

  "But what are we going to do with her? What’s the plan?"

  Neight sighed and looked away, seemingly staring at the wall behind which the cabin containing the girl was located.

  "Ideally, we need M79 to switch sides and join us."

  I had a feeling he’d say that.

  "Do you think that’s possible? She doesn’t exactly seem eager."

  I was genuinely concerned about this girl, who had so recently tried to kill Neight. I couldn’t understand how she could be trusted. What if she just pretends to be our ally for a while and waits for the right moment to attack us? But Neight had his own perspective on the matter.

  "In time, she’ll have no other options. She must understand that clearly," he said, surprisingly calmly and coldly. His words were chilling.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Her partner, G091-005, is likely to report the mission failure soon. Once he does, she’ll lose her value and become a target for elimination—just like me."

  I was struck by how easily he could talk about such cruel things, though I should’ve been used to this trait of his by now. Still, it felt alien to me.

  Who gets to decide the value of a human life?! How can they so easily destroy someone’s fate?! Kill or be killed? What nonsense! Why pit us against each other in the first place? For what purpose?!

  Neight looked at me again, and from the expression on his face, it seemed he could read the wave of indignation that swept over me.

  "There’s no need to get angry, Emma. This situation works to our advantage. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to convince her," he said.

  A sickening feeling settled in my chest. His words made it seem like we were villains willing to do anything to achieve our goals. But for now, I couldn’t offer any alternative plan.

  "Why do they even want to kill you? Yes, you said you might pose a threat, but is that really a reason? Has humanity really degraded so much that execution is used as punishment? Back when I lived on Earth, executions had been abolished for a long time, and I don’t understand..." I vented.

  Neight’s expression grew somber, and his shoulders slumped. He looked at me with guilty eyes, as if he were about to confess something terrible. I was struck speechless, waiting for him to start speaking.

  "This is connected to what I wanted to tell you... Emma, I..." He sighed and ran his hands over his face. It was clear how hard it was for him to continue. "You’re probably not going to like this, but please, hear me out until the end..."

  Better if he hadn’t said that. Now I’m really tense.

  "The thing is..."

  Bang! A loud metallic noise echoed from the adjacent room, as if someone was slamming against the wall. Then came a second bang. And a third... Neight and I exchanged glances.

  "Is that M79? What’s she doing in there?!" I asked quickly. Her suspicious activity was making me uneasy.

  Neight frowned deeply, irritation clearly etched on his face. This was the second time today he’d been interrupted while trying to discuss something important with me. Truth be told, it frustrated me too—I wanted to know even more now what he had been planning to confess.

  "Tch, she just can’t sit still, can she? I’ll go check it out," he said, rising from the table and striding toward the door. As I jumped up to follow him, he added, "Stay here."

  Before I could respond, Neight darted out of the kitchen, and I could only hear his hurried footsteps echoing down the corridor. Meanwhile, the banging against the walls continued unabated. Being left alone didn’t sit well with me. And I was worried about Neight too.

  What if it’s a trap? Maybe I should follow him?

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  Even though he’d asked me to wait in the kitchen, I couldn’t just sit idly by. I tiptoed toward the exit, then down the hallway. The noises ceased as I got closer to the room. From inside, I could hear muffled voices—Neight and M79. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they both sounded irritated, almost like they were berating each other. Neight’s tone, however, was more restrained compared to our prisoner’s.

  I crept closer to the door, straining to listen. Although I still couldn’t catch their conversation, it seemed like Neight had the situation under control, so I decided not to interfere.

  "Ha! Gotcha! Take that!" M79 suddenly yelled, her voice loud enough to carry through the closed door, followed by another sharp metallic bang.

  Damn it, what just happened?! I panicked, rushing to the control panel to open the door and enter. Fearing she might have pulled some trick and harmed Neight, I hurried to his aid.

  "M79, why are you doing this?!" I heard Neight shout at her just as the door to the cabin slid open, and I burst inside with my gun drawn.

  But there was no fight. What I saw instead left me utterly stunned, as if the ground had been pulled out from under me. Neight stood near the bunk where our prisoner was still seated and bound. In his hands, he held her helmet. When he realized I had seen her face, he looked at me with alarm.

  "Ha! I knew it would work. You’re so predictable," M79 said smugly.

  I was frozen in shock, struggling to process what I was seeing. It felt like a dream—or maybe a nightmare—because it made no sense. The girl’s face... her features were identical to mine, except for the amber hue of her eyes and her short, curly white hair. She looked back and forth between me and Neight with a self-satisfied grin, clearly anticipating our reactions.

  "Emma, I can explain," Neight said, snapping out of his own shock. He turned to me as if trying to shield M79 from view, but what was the point now?

  Now I couldn’t take my eyes off the girl who seemed to be my reflection. This uncanny resemblance was blowing my mind. I felt a headache coming on.

  Meanwhile, my copy sat on the cot in a relaxed pose, casually crossing her legs and leaning against the wall she had apparently been banging on earlier to get our attention. She didn’t seem bothered at all by the fact that she was tied up and technically still a prisoner. It gave off a strong impression that everything was going according to her plan.

  "H-how is this possible? Why does she look like me?"

  "Yes, Neight, why don’t you explain that?" the girl with my face mocked, clearly enjoying the situation.

  "I was planning to tell you..."

  "But you didn’t!" M79 cut in again.

  "Be quiet!" Neight snapped at her, evidently at the end of his patience.

  "How rude, Neight," she replied in a mock-scolding tone, shaking her head theatrically. Then she added, "By the way, I should probably come up with a human name for myself too."

  While the two of them were arguing, I felt myself boiling over with anger and frustration. It hurt, the sense that something so massive and important was being kept from me. I no longer knew what other 'interesting' revelations I should brace myself for. Before, I might have barely managed to believe that Neight’s resemblance to my friend Albert was some sort of coincidence, but not now. This couldn’t just be a random fluke anymore, which meant I’d been utterly deceived. Yes, of course, I had suspected that Neight wasn’t entirely honest with me about this, but I never imagined he had deliberately hidden the existence of someone who looked just like me.

  "Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?! Who the hell are you people?!"

  "Emma, maybe we could talk in the kitchen so we’re not disturbed?" Neight suggested, stepping toward me. But I immediately backed away from him.

  "Oh no, I’m done with all these evasions and tricks! Spill it here and now! And you," I turned to the prisoner, "what should I even call you? Have you come up with a name?"

  "Misen," she replied casually, clearly enjoying the drama as if she were watching a gripping series with a shocking twist.

  "And Misen," I added, "can chime in if she has anything to say."

  I stared expectantly at Neight. He looked both disappointed and scared. It seemed like he didn’t know how to handle this without losing my trust. On some level, I understood that discussing everything with him alone might be calmer and easier, but I was afraid he might once again hide unpleasant details from me. That’s why I decided it would be better if he told me everything in front of witnesses, even if Misen’s snarky remarks were infuriating.

  "Ha! No wonder I can be a bit hot-headed sometimes. I really am your copy," Misen remarked with pride.

  "She’s my copy? So it’s true?" I demanded, turning to Neight, expecting some kind of answer.

  "Yes, but only the body. With minor modifications so she could be easily distinguished from the original," he quickly clarified before Misen could get a word in.

  This is insane! What a twist! But then that means…

  "And you, are you a copy of my friend, Albert? But he was younger..."

  "The age of the copy doesn’t necessarily match the age of the original."

  The influx of information made my head hurt even more, and I started to feel unwell. I struggled to process everything I was hearing, trying my best not to lose track or get confused.

  "Wait, so you do know where Albert is and what happened to him?" I asked, a glimmer of hope rising in my chest.

  But instead of answering, Neight fell silent, pressed his lips together, and looked away. My already terrible mood sank even lower—it wasn’t a good sign.

  He knows! He definitely knows, but he’s hiding it from me!

  "Of course he knows," the girl said as Neight remained quiet.

  After Misen’s response, I looked at Neight questioningly, practically begging him to tell me the truth. But he avoided my gaze with a guilty expression, clearly unwilling to answer.

  "What happened to him? Please, tell me what happened to him!"

  I feared my friend was in serious danger, and while we wasted time here, terrible and cruel experiments were being conducted on him.

  "Why do you do this, M79? Who does this help?" Neight said with deep bitterness, seemingly ignoring me and my pleas.

  "First of all, call me Misen now. And second, Emma would’ve found out sooner or later anyway."

  "You can’t just dump everything on someone all at once!" he shot back.

  "Oh, how sweet of you to care so much about her. I’m about to cry," she replied mockingly, theatrically rubbing her fists near her eyes.

  Meanwhile, I was getting irritated at being treated like a child who couldn’t handle the truth. Finally, my patience snapped.

  "Enough already! What happened to Albert? Answer me immediately!"

  They both fell silent and looked at me with sympathy.

  "So? Are you going to tell her, or should I?" Misen said, her tone suddenly serious, devoid of any sarcasm.

  "I’ll do it," Neight said.

  Wait... Why has the atmosphere changed so much? They’re not about to say that Albert... No, that can’t be true…

  Thoughts raced through my mind. I was starting to piece together what they wanted to tell me, but I refused to believe it.

  Neight stepped closer to me, reaching out his hand, but I flinched and instinctively moved away. He pulled his hand back as if burned and took a step back, his eyes filled with sadness.

  "Emma," he said softly, "this is going to be hard to hear, but… your friend has passed away."

  I froze, as if struck by a heavy blow to the head. A sharp pain pierced my chest, and my vision blurred. I felt like I could barely stand as my strength drained away. Neight’s words echoed in my mind, repeating over and over. "Your friend has passed away."

  "N-no... This can’t be true! T-tell me it’s just another one of your lies! You said before that you didn’t know what happened to him!"

  Lies! It’s all lies! A mistake! A dream! A deception! Another manipulation! Anything but the truth...

  I desperately clung to any possibility that would let me reject what I’d just heard.

  Neight tried again to approach me, perhaps intending to hug me and offer comfort, but I threw up my hands to keep him at bay.

  "D-don’t touch me! You’ve been lying to me from the start, and now you’re trying to deceive me again!"

  "Emma, I'm so sorry…"

  "He’s not lying," the prisoner spoke up. "Unfortunately, the sample named Albert really did die during the creation of his first and only copy. In other words, Neight’s body."

  Hearing those words, I fell to my knees, tears streaming down my face. Images of the past began to flood my mind—how we spent time together, sometimes laughing, sometimes not. Even though we had only met on the plane heading to the bunker, in that short time, I had grown so attached to him. I would’ve given anything to see his smile again or watch him puff his cheeks in mock offense at my stupid jokes. I couldn’t believe I would never see him again, that I had lost him forever.

  Please, someone tell me this is just a nightmare... I’ll wake up in the bunker where everyone is alive and well... Mom, Dad, and my friends: Isabella, Anna, and Albert...