The fourth knock echoed through the chamber.
Veyric didn’t move.
Neither did Nyelle, whose fingers remained wrapped around his arm. Their mother had turned toward the sealed passage, but her attention kept returning to the small figure standing beside the table. Its expression had changed. The fear was still there, but something else had surfaced beneath it, something closer to recognition.
"Who is knocking?" Veyric asked.
The figure didn’t answer.
Four knocks came again.
This time, the sound was followed by a faint scrape, as though someone on the other side were dragging a hand along the surface. Veyric glanced toward the sealed passage, expecting to see the stone shifting, but nothing changed. The sound had come from somewhere beneath them.
Nyelle tightened her grip. "That passage was sealed."
"It isn’t the passage," their mother whispered.
Veyric looked at her. "Then where is it coming from?"
She pointed toward the floor.
The white markings beneath the table had begun to shift. They moved away from the three circles, forming a narrow path that extended toward Veyric. He stepped backward, but the markings followed, stopping only when he reached the edge of the chamber.
The phone vibrated.
[EXTERNAL RESPONSE: DETECTED.]
[RESPONSE SOURCE: UNRESOLVED.]
[ANCHOR CONFLICT: ACTIVE.]
Veyric glanced at the small figure. "You said you were made to keep me from finding out which one of you came back. What does that mean?"
The figure looked at him for a long moment.
"I remember the procedure now."
Their mother moved closer. "Then tell us."
"I was supposed to remain outside the second chamber. I was given the memories necessary to recognize Veyric, along with instructions to prevent him from completing the connection."
"Why?" Nyelle asked.
"Because if he remembered the separation, he might try to reverse it."
Veyric’s jaw tightened. "And what would happen if I did?"
The figure looked toward the floor.
"The three subjects would return to their original positions."
Their mother shook her head. "That wasn’t what the procedure was designed to do."
"No," the figure replied. "It was what the procedure became."
The distinction made Veyric uneasy.
"Who changed it?"
"I don’t know."
"You keep saying that."
"Because I don’t remember."
"Then remember something useful."
The figure flinched at his tone, but didn’t turn away. For a moment, its expression seemed almost human in its uncertainty, as though it understood that Veyric had every reason to distrust it but had nothing left to offer except fragments.
"I remember standing beside the door. I remember you crying. I remember Nyelle asking when you would come back. And I remember someone telling me that only one of you could leave with your memories intact."
Veyric looked at his sister.
Nyelle’s expression had become distant. "I remember asking that question."
The figure nodded.
"You were holding his hand."
"Was he crying?"
"Yes."
"Was I?"
The figure hesitated.
"You were trying not to."
Nyelle looked down at the bracelet in her hand. She ran her thumb over the silver bead, then closed her fingers around it.
"Then I must have known something was wrong."
Nobody contradicted her.
Another knock sounded beneath the floor.
This time, Veyric felt it inside his chest.
His breath caught. The blue line beneath his right hand brightened, and a faint pressure travelled up his arm. He pressed his palm against the table, trying to steady himself, but the small figure immediately stepped forward.
"Don’t let it establish a complete response."
"How?"
"Don’t answer the knocks."
"I haven’t answered anything."
"You have. Every time you react to the pattern, the connection becomes stronger."
Veyric pulled his hand away from the table.
The knocking stopped.
For a moment, the chamber seemed to settle. Then the phone screen illuminated, displaying a message that neither Veyric nor the others had seen before.
[RESPONSE RECEIVED.]
[ANCHOR RECOGNITION: PARTIAL.]
[IDENTITY SEQUENCE: REVERSED.]
The figure backed away.
"What does reversed mean?" Nyelle asked.
The figure stared at Veyric.
"It means the chamber may no longer be trying to identify the original subject."
Veyric waited.
"It may be trying to identify the one who replaced him."
Their mother covered her mouth.
Veyric looked at her. "You know what that means?"
"I don’t know," she whispered. "But I remember the word replacement."
The figure’s expression tightened.
Their mother continued, speaking slowly, as if each sentence had to be dragged through the resistance of her own memory.
"When the procedure began, they told me there were two children. They said one would retain his memories, while the other would lose them. They said the separation would protect both of you."
She looked at Veyric.
"But before the second chamber closed, someone changed the order. I heard them say the replacement had to be accepted before the original could be released."
Nyelle stepped toward her. "Who said that?"
"I couldn’t see."
"Was it the figure?"
Their mother looked at the small figure.
"No."
For half a second, the figure seemed relieved.
Then their mother added, "It was someone speaking through it."
The relief disappeared.
Veyric turned toward the figure. "What does she mean?"
"I don’t remember anyone speaking through me."
"You just said you remembered standing beside the door."
"I did."
"Could someone have used you without your knowledge?"
The figure’s silence was enough.
Veyric watched it carefully. Its face had become rigid, and its hands were slowly closing at its sides. Whatever it had remembered, it was no longer certain that its own memories belonged to it.
The phone vibrated again.
A new image appeared.
It showed the second chamber from above. Two children lay inside separate circles. A third circle was drawn outside the barrier, but unlike the others, it contained no child.
At the centre of the room stood a person whose face was obscured by a bright distortion.
The figure leaned toward the screen.
"That’s not how I remember it."
The image changed.
The person in the centre raised one hand, and the three circles began to rotate. One child disappeared from the first circle. Another appeared in the empty third circle.
Then the recording froze.
Veyric stared at the arrangement.
"Which one was me?"
The small figure pointed toward the first circle.
"That’s where I remember you."
"And the second?"
"Nyelle."
"Then the third?"
The figure didn’t answer.
Their mother moved closer to the screen. "Look at the centre."
Veyric followed her gaze.
The distorted person was no longer standing in the middle. The figure had moved to the edge of the chamber, leaving something behind at the centre.
A small object.
A phone.
The same cracked phone lying on their table.
Nyelle’s eyes widened. "That’s impossible."
Veyric looked at the recording, then at the actual device.
The screen showed a new timestamp.
It was dated eleven years earlier.
The same date as the missed call from Nyelle.
A message appeared beneath it.
INCOMING CALL — VEYRIC.
Nyelle stared at the screen.
"I called you," she whispered. "But that says you were calling me."
The phone began ringing.
Veyric froze.
The sound was unmistakable. It was the ringtone he had used on his old phone, a sound he hadn’t heard in years. The screen displayed Nyelle’s name, but the call timer was already running.
00:00:01.
00:00:02.
00:00:03.
He didn’t touch it.
Nyelle reached toward the phone, but Veyric caught her wrist.
"Don’t."
"It’s my number."
"That’s why you shouldn’t answer."
The call continued.
00:00:07.
00:00:08.
00:00:09.
Then the ringing stopped.
A voice came through the speaker.
"Nyelle?"
It was Veyric’s voice, but younger. Frightened. Struggling to keep quiet.
Nyelle’s eyes filled with tears.
"Veyric?"
The voice on the phone continued.
"If you get this, don’t come down. They said you weren’t supposed to remember me."
Nyelle slowly covered her mouth.
Veyric felt the blue line beneath his skin tighten. He recognized the voice immediately, not merely because it sounded like his own, but because of the way it broke on the final word. He remembered speaking like that when he was frightened as a child, trying to sound brave while hoping someone would come and find him.
The recording crackled.
Then another voice spoke in the background.
"Who are you talking to?"
The younger Veyric answered, "My sister."
A pause followed.
Then the second voice said something that made the small figure stagger.
"Which one?"
The phone went silent.
Veyric looked at the figure. "You recognize that voice."
The figure’s lips parted.
"I’ve heard it before."
"Whose is it?"
The figure stared at the dark screen.
"Mine."
Their mother took a step backward.
Nyelle looked between them. "But that wasn’t you speaking to him."
"No," the figure said.
"Then who was it?"
The figure raised its eyes toward Veyric.
"Someone using my voice."
A low vibration passed through the chamber. The white path beneath Veyric’s feet split into two branches. One led toward the sealed passage. The other ended beneath the table.
Veyric watched the lines carefully.
The phone illuminated once more.
[CALL RECORD: INCOMPLETE.]
[CALL ORIGIN: UNVERIFIED.]
[CALL RECIPIENT: NYELLE.]
[CALLING SUBJECT: VEYRIC.]
A final line appeared.
[CALL STATUS: CONNECTED.]
Nyelle looked at Veyric. "If that was really you, then why don’t you remember making the call?"
"I don’t know."
"But you heard it."
"Yes."
"And you recognized your own voice."
Veyric didn’t answer.
He had recognized it. More than that, he had recognized the fear in it. The younger version of himself sounded as though he had been hiding somewhere, waiting for someone to find him.
But there was one detail he couldn’t ignore.
The voice had said they weren’t supposed to remember him.
Not it.
Not the child.
Him.
The distinction made his stomach tighten. He glanced at Nyelle and wondered whether the call had been meant to warn her about him, or whether someone had deliberately made her believe that he was the one who needed saving.
The small figure suddenly reached for the phone.
Veyric caught its arm. "What are you doing?"
"Destroying it."
"Why?"
"Because the call was never meant to reach Nyelle."
Nyelle stepped between them. "You don’t get to decide that."
"You don’t understand what answering it could have done."
"I understand that someone was asking for me."
The figure looked at her.
"And if that someone wasn’t your brother?"
Nyelle’s expression hardened. "Then I want to know who was using his voice."
Before anyone could respond, the phone screen went completely white.
A new message appeared.
[INCOMING RESPONSE: ACCEPTED.]
[CALLING SUBJECT: CONFIRMED.]
[IDENTITY: VEYRIC.]
Veyric stared at the confirmation.
Then a second message appeared.
[REPLACEMENT SUBJECT: IDENTIFIED.]
The small figure backed away.
Its right hand began to tremble.
Veyric looked at the screen, then at his own hand.
The blue line had disappeared.
For one brief moment, he thought the connection had finally broken. He flexed his fingers, expecting the familiar pain, but felt nothing. The sudden absence was almost as unsettling as the sensation itself.
Then the line reappeared beneath his skin.
This time, it wasn’t glowing blue.
It was white.
Across the table, the small figure looked down at its own wrist. A matching blue line was fading beneath its skin, disappearing section by section as though something were withdrawing from it.
It raised its eyes toward Veyric.
"No," it whispered. "That’s not possible."
The phone displayed one final message.
[ORIGINAL SUBJECT: VEYRIC.]
[REPLACEMENT SUBJECT: VEYRIC.]
[SEPARATION: NO LONGER VALID.]
The chamber lights went out.
Nyelle called his name, but Veyric couldn’t tell how far away she was. He reached toward where he had last seen her, his right hand trembling as the white line beneath his skin began to pulse.
Across the darkness, the small figure whispered something he could barely make out.
"Then which one of us was I sent to protect?"