Ash didn't remember losing consciousness.
One moment there was the boy-copy standing behind the intruder—silent, eerie, watching with that strange, empty calm—
and the next, Ash opened his eyes to darkness.
Not pitch black.
A dim, flickering glow.
Palo's shaky breathing somewhere beside him.
"Ash…? Ash, are you awake?"
Ash pushed himself upright. "Yeah. Are you hurt?"
"No," Palo whispered. "Just… dizzy."
Ash's vision adjusted.
They were still in the house—still in the study. But something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The tall intruder was gone.
The boy-copy was gone.
Half the room looked like it had been hit by a force strong enough to rattle the walls—papers scattered, the desk shoved sideways, dust floating like ashes.
Palo hugged his knees. "Ash… what happened? It was like something exploded."
Ash shook his head slowly. "No explosion. Something manipulated the space."
Palo stared. "Like—teleportation? Time distortion?"
Ash didn't answer right away.
He touched his temple. It throbbed—not like a headache, but like something inside him was reacting to whatever just occurred.
Something old.
Something he didn't understand.
Something the ripped logbook pages hinted at.
He inhaled shakily. "Palo… I think the copy pulled us out of danger."
"But why?" Palo asked. "He never helps you. He just… watches."
Ash's chest tightened. "Watching isn't the same as wanting me dead."
Palo thought about that, teeth worrying at his lower lip.
---
The Mark
Ash stood slowly, scanning the room.
Something caught his eye near the door—a symbol marked on the floor in black ink.
Palo stepped beside him. "Is that… new?"
Ash crouched. The symbol was a perfect circle with two parallel lines cutting through it.
Palo whispered, "What does it mean?"
Ash's voice lowered.
"It's the mark from the files in the greenhouse. The same ones the man was carrying."
Palo's face paled. "So he works for that organization? The one that… experimented on you?"
Ash didn't look up.
"Yes."
Palo swallowed. "Did he leave the symbol… for us? Or for the copy?"
Ash stood, dusting his hands off.
"He left it because he's coming back."
Palo's heart thudded. "Then we need to get out of here."
"We will," Ash said softly. "But not yet."
"Why not?!"
Ash turned to him—eyes shadowed, but steady.
"Because my mother hid something inside this house. Something important enough for them to kill for. Until we find it, we're running blind."
Palo looked away. "And if we stay, we're not running at all."
Ash placed a gentle hand on his shoulder—steady, grounding, not romantic, just human.
"We'll be careful."
Palo nodded reluctantly.
---
The Copy Returns
The air shifted.
A faint distortion—like heat rising off pavement—rippled at the doorway.
Palo gasped quietly. "Ash…"
The boy-copy stepped into view.
Barefoot.
Expression blank.
Eyes locked onto Ash like he was the only thing in the room.
Palo instinctively stepped back.
The copy walked forward until he stood barely a meter away.
Close enough that Ash could see the faint static flicker across the boy's skin.
Ash didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't show fear.
He asked softly, "Why did you help us?"
The copy blinked slowly.
Then he raised one finger and pointed at Ash's chest.
Right where Ash had been feeling that strange internal pain.
Palo whispered, "Ash… I think he's warning you."
The copy's voice came out faint—broken, like he was learning to speak through static.
"Un… stable."
Ash froze.
Palo felt the hairs on his arms lift. "That's the word from the message."
The copy lifted both hands now, gesturing urgently, forming shapes in the air—two circles, crossing lines, then tapping his own forehead.
Ash stared.
"He knows what they did to me."
The copy nodded—once, sharply.
"And he knows what they're planning next."
The copy's expression shifted—still blank, but eyes suddenly sharper.
He stepped closer.
Too close.
Palo panicked. "Ash—!"
The copy reached forward.
Placing two fingers lightly—almost reverently—on Ash's temple.
Ash inhaled sharply—
—and the world around him fractured.
---
The Vision
Ash wasn't in the study anymore.
He stood in a sterile white room.
A cold metal bed.
Electrodes.
A mirrored window.
The smell of chemicals.
His younger self sat on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, trembling.
A scientist stood over him, writing notes.
"Subject Eleven exhibits instability during replication events."
Ash's breath caught.
Replication events.
The copy.
The younger Ash lifted his head slowly, eyes glowing faintly—wrongly—unnaturally.
The scientist stepped back.
"We must ensure the original remains controlled."
Another voice—female, trembling but firm.
Ash's mother.
"You're hurting him! He's just a child—he needs safety, not containment!"
The scientist replied coldly:
"If the clone reaches the original without supervision, the original's instability will trigger a collapse."
Ash felt his heart drop.
A collapse?
The room flickered.
He saw his mother again—packing the logbook, rushing, terrified.
"She's protecting me," Ash whispered.
The vision cracked—
White.
Static.
Darkness.
And then—
Ash was back.
In the study.
Sweat cold on his skin.
The copy was watching him.
Palo was shaking his arm. "Ash—Ash! Are you okay?!"
Ash looked at the copy.
"You showed me."
The copy nodded once.
Palo stared at both of them, confused. "What did you see?"
Ash swallowed hard.
"Everything."
---
The Last Warning
The copy spoke again—voice glitching, fading.
"Find… core."
Ash frowned. "Core?"
The boy pointed to the floor beneath them.
"The house," Palo whispered. "It's hidden somewhere in the house."
The boy-copy's form flickered violently—glitching like he was being pulled away.
He whispered one last word—
"Soon."
And then—
He vanished.
Completely.
Leaving the room colder.
Heavier.
More dangerous.
Ash looked at Palo.
"We have to find the core before they do."
Palo nodded, fear and determination mixing in his eyes.
"Where do we start?"
Ash turned toward the floorboards beneath the study.
Determined.
"The basement."
---