Chapter 23 · The Man Selling Breaches

"Which one's real?" Adrian said.

Five versions of Mara stood in the wreckage. Same scuffed boots. Same jacket tear on the left shoulder. Same way she held her spine too straight when she was scared.

They all turned to look at him.

"Adrian," the first one said. "Don't move."

"Stay back," said the second.

The third just stared, lips pressed white.

The fourth tilted her head. "You need to run."

The fifth didn't speak. She watched him the way Mara watched locks she didn't trust.

Adrian's fingers tightened on the brass shard in his pocket. The resonator was still spinning in the center of the room, a tangle of copper wire and glass that hummed like a split skull. Whoever built it knew how to peel a person into layers and spit them back wrong.

"He's stalling," the second Mara said. She took a step forward. "He doesn't know."

"Shut up," the first one snapped.

"Make me."

They moved at the same time, circling each other, and Adrian felt his chest lock. This wasn't duplication. It was fracture. Like someone had cracked Mara open and let every version of her spill out—