Chapter 30 · Mirror Match

"So, this is what the original looks like. A bit more ragged than I expected," the voice said. It wasn't just a voice. It was my voice. Exactly my cadence, my rasp, the same slight hitch in the breath.

I didn't look up immediately. I felt the cold press of a combat knife against the side of my neck, the steel biting just enough to let me know it was real. I was pinned against the rusted bulkhead of the lower ward, my arms locked behind me.

"Get your hands off me," I spat, twisting my head.

He was standing there. Same height. Same scarred knuckle on the left hand. Same dead-eyed stare. But while I was wearing a grease-stained tactical jacket, this thing—this clone—was dressed in a pristine corporate suit that cost more than my entire life. He looked like the version of me that had actually won.

"Why bother?" the clone whispered, leaning in. I could smell the ozone and sterile chemicals clinging to him. "You're just the prototype. The rough draft. I'm the final edit."

"You're a puppet," I snarled, trying to slam my weight back into him. "Viktor's little toy.