"Then which one of us was I sent to protect?"
The question disappeared into the darkness.
Veyric heard someone move near the table, followed by the scrape of a shoe against the floor. He reached instinctively for Nyelle, found her hand, and pulled her closer. Her fingers closed around his, and he could feel them trembling despite the effort she made to remain still.
"Don’t move," he said.
"I wasn’t planning to."
Her answer came out quieter than usual.
A faint blue light appeared beneath Veyric’s right sleeve.
Across the chamber, another light answered it.
The small figure was still standing where it had been, one hand wrapped around its wrist. Its face was barely visible, but Veyric could hear its breathing. The two lights pulsed at different intervals, almost like separate heartbeats struggling to find a common rhythm.
Their mother spoke from somewhere behind them.
"Both of you, stay away from the table."
Veyric turned toward her voice. "Can you see anything?"
"No."
"Then how do you know where the table is?"
"I can hear it."
A metallic click followed.
The phone had switched itself on.
Its light revealed the room in pieces: Nyelle beside Veyric, their mother near the wall, and the small figure standing with its head lowered. The three circles had disappeared from the table. In their place was a single narrow line running from one end to the other.
The figure looked at it.
"It’s separating us again."
Veyric released Nyelle’s hand and stepped toward the table. "There is no separation. Whatever this thing is doing, we’re stopping it."
"You can’t stop a procedure you don’t understand."
"Then explain it."
"I’ve tried."
"You’ve given me fragments."
"Because that’s all I have!"
The figure’s voice cracked. It looked down at its wrist again, then pressed its thumb against the fading blue line. For a moment, it seemed to be testing whether the mark was still attached to it.
"I remember being told to protect you. I remember being warned that if you remembered the second chamber, you would try to bring someone back. I thought that someone was the third subject."
"And now?"
The figure looked at him.
"Now I think I was protecting you from yourself."
Veyric didn’t like the way it said that.
He glanced at Nyelle, but she was watching the figure with an expression he couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t fear alone. There was anger in it too, perhaps because every new answer seemed to make her brother less familiar rather than explain what had happened to him.
Before Veyric could question the figure further, the phone emitted a short tone.
A new message appeared.
[SEPARATION: INVALID.]
[IDENTITY CONFLICT: UNRESOLVED.]
[RECONCILIATION REQUIRED.]
The line on the table split into two branches.
One extended toward Veyric.
The other pointed at the small figure.
Nyelle moved in front of the phone. "Whatever it wants, don’t follow those lines."
Veyric glanced at her. "Why?"
"Because the last time it drew a path, the child disappeared."
Their mother approached cautiously. "She’s right. Those markings aren’t instructions. They’re conditions."
The small figure looked at her. "You remember that?"
"I remember enough to know we shouldn’t let the chamber choose for us."
A soft vibration travelled through the floor.
Then something struck the underside of the table.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Veyric’s right hand tightened involuntarily.
The fourth knock never came.
Instead, the phone displayed a new recording.
The screen showed the white room again, but this time the camera was positioned inside the second chamber. The footage was unstable, occasionally breaking into horizontal lines. Two children were visible behind a transparent barrier.
Veyric recognized his younger self immediately.
The other child was sitting with its back against the wall, its knees drawn close to its chest. Its face remained hidden, but the position of its hands reminded him of the child who had disappeared from the chamber. He couldn’t tell whether that resemblance was real or something his mind was supplying because he wanted the images to fit together.
The small figure approached the screen.
"That’s where I was."
The recording continued.
A younger version of the figure entered the room. It wore the dark uniform Veyric had seen in the earlier archive, and a scar crossed its face. It walked toward the two children, crouched beside the barrier, and pressed its palm against the glass.
The child inside the chamber stood.
Then the younger Veyric approached and placed his hand against the same spot.
The two palms aligned.
The footage distorted.
A voice spoke from behind the camera.
"Which one has retained the memory?"
The scarred figure answered.
"The first."
"And the other?"
"Still responsive."
"Can the first be released?"
"Not while the third remains connected."
Veyric leaned closer.
The third remained connected.
The words repeated in his mind. The archive had shown three subjects, but this recording showed only two children inside the barrier. If the third was connected, where had it been?
The recording showed the scarred figure looking toward the camera.
"Then we have to separate them."
The voice behind the camera answered, "You were instructed to protect the original."
"I am."
"Then why are you preparing to remove him?"
The scarred figure didn’t respond.
Instead, it looked toward the younger Veyric.
And the child behind the barrier began knocking.
Three times.
A pause.
Then a fourth.
The footage stopped.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Veyric slowly turned toward the small figure.
"You were in there."
"Yes."
"Not outside the chamber. Inside."
The figure looked at the screen. "I know what it shows."
"Were you the one who needed protection?"
Its expression changed.
"I don’t know."
Veyric stepped closer. "Were you one of the children?"
The figure shook its head, but the movement was uncertain.
"I don’t remember being a child."
"That’s not an answer."
"I know."
Nyelle approached the table and studied the frozen image. She leaned closer to the barrier, then pointed toward its upper edge.
"Wait."
Veyric followed her finger.
"Look at the reflection."
Behind the scarred figure, barely visible in the glass, stood another person. The reflection showed a white coat and a hand resting against the doorframe.
Their mother moved closer.
"That isn’t me."
The figure looked at her.
The woman in the reflection turned her head.
Her face was indistinct, but the outline of her body, the way she held her shoulders, and the small movement of her left hand were familiar. Their mother took another step backward, almost stumbling before she caught herself against the wall.
"That’s not possible."
Veyric stared at her. "You recognize her?"
Their mother didn’t answer.
The woman in the recording raised her hand. The scarred figure turned toward her, and for a moment the two seemed to exchange words. Then the woman pointed at the two children.
The scarred figure shook its head.
The woman pointed again.
The footage ended before either of them moved.
Nyelle looked at their mother.
"Who was that?"
Their mother pressed her palm against the wall.
"I don’t know."
"You just said it wasn’t you."
"I know what I said."
"But you recognize her."
Their mother closed her eyes. Her breathing had become shallow, and she kept rubbing her thumb against the side of her index finger, repeating the same small movement as the woman in the recording.
"I remember seeing someone in the corridor. I thought she was one of the technicians. She never spoke to me directly, but she knew my name."
The small figure turned sharply.
"What did she look like?"
"Like me."
Silence followed.
Veyric looked at the reflection still frozen on the phone.
"Another version of you?"
"I don’t know." Their mother shook her head. "I remember thinking she was my reflection when I first saw her. Then she moved when I didn’t."
Nyelle stared at her.
"You never told us."
"I thought I had imagined it."
"You thought you imagined seeing another woman who looked exactly like you?"
"I was frightened, Nyelle. I had been told that if I remembered the procedure, I could put both of you in danger. I couldn’t even trust my own thoughts by the time we left that place."
Nyelle’s expression softened for an instant, but the hurt remained.
"You could have told us."
Their mother lowered her eyes.
"I know."
The phone screen flickered.
The recording resumed.
The woman in the white coat was now standing directly in front of the barrier. She placed one hand against the glass, and both children inside turned toward her.
The younger Veyric stepped forward.
The other child remained seated.
The woman spoke.
"Which one of you remembers?"
The younger Veyric raised his hand.
The seated child didn’t move.
The woman nodded, then turned toward the scarred figure.
"Take the one who remembers."
The scarred figure hesitated.
"And the other?" it asked.
The woman leaned closer to the glass.
"Leave him where he can still be found."
The recording broke into static.
Nyelle gripped the edge of the table.
"Where he can still be found," she repeated.
Veyric looked at the small figure. "You told us the third child wasn’t supposed to survive."
The figure’s eyes remained on the screen.
"I was told that."
"By whom?"
It looked toward their mother.
"By the woman in the white coat."
Their mother went rigid.
"You said she never spoke to you."
"I remember her voice now."
The small figure lowered its head.
"She gave me the instructions."
Veyric looked back at the recording.
The woman had been standing behind the scarred figure, giving orders. The figure had followed them, but the archive had never shown who she was. Now the figure seemed to be remembering her voice, while their mother remembered a woman who looked exactly like herself.
There were too many versions of the same person, too many records showing people where they shouldn’t have been.
"Why would someone who looks like you order the third child to be left behind?" Veyric asked.
Their mother looked at him.
"I don’t know."
"Could she have been the one who brought us here?"
"I don’t know."
"Could she be the one who separated us?"
Their mother swallowed.
"I don’t know, Veyric."
He wanted to demand more, but there was nothing useful in forcing answers out of someone whose memories were breaking apart as they spoke. He turned back to the small figure instead.
"You said you were sent to protect me. Did she tell you that?"
"Yes."
"Did she tell you what I needed protection from?"
The figure hesitated.
"No. She only told me what would happen if I failed."
"And what was that?"
The figure looked at his right hand.
"You would remember the wrong life."
Veyric stared at it. "What’s the wrong life?"
"I don’t know."
The phone suddenly changed.
The recording disappeared, replaced by a black background with a single line of text.
[PROTECTIVE SUBJECT: IDENTIFICATION REQUIRED.]
Beneath it appeared two names.
VEYRIC.
VEYRIC.
The same name appeared twice, but the spacing between the letters was different. One had a small white mark beside it. The other had none.
The figure pointed at the first.
"That’s the original designation."
Veyric looked at the second.
"And the other?"
The figure hesitated.
"The replacement."
Nyelle moved closer. "Which one are you?"
The figure stared at the screen.
"I don’t know."
Veyric looked at the two identical names.
"Can the System distinguish us?"
"It thinks it can."
"That’s not what I asked."
The figure raised its eyes.
"No. Not anymore."
The phone emitted a low tone.
The two names disappeared.
A new message appeared.
[PROTECTIVE SUBJECT: IDENTIFIED.]
[DESIGNATION: NYELLE.]
Nyelle stepped backward.
Veyric immediately moved between her and the table.
"What does that mean?"
The small figure stared at the message.
Then it whispered, "That’s why they kept her outside."
Their mother reached for Nyelle, but Nyelle pulled away.
"No. Nobody touches me until someone explains what’s happening."
The figure looked at her.
"You weren’t only preserving Veyric’s memory. You were protecting the subject they couldn’t separate."
Nyelle’s eyes narrowed. "Which subject?"
The figure didn’t answer immediately. Its gaze moved to Veyric’s right hand, then returned to Nyelle.
"The one that came back with you."
A new vibration travelled through the floor.
The white line on the table disappeared, leaving behind a single circular mark.
Then the phone displayed a final message.
[PROTECTIVE SUBJECT: NYELLE.]
[PROTECTED SUBJECT: VEYRIC.]
[PROTECTED ENTITY: UNKNOWN.]
Nyelle stared at the words.
Veyric felt the blue line beneath his skin go cold.
The figure stepped away from the table.
"Now I remember why I was afraid."
"What?"
It looked at Nyelle.
"Because you weren’t supposed to protect Veyric from the third subject."
Its voice dropped to a whisper.
"You were supposed to protect the third subject from him."
Veyric turned toward Nyelle.
She was still staring at the screen, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and anger. Her right hand remained closed, and he noticed that she had been holding something throughout the recording. He had assumed it was the bracelet.
"Nyelle?"
She didn’t respond.
"What’s wrong?"
Her fingers slowly opened.
Her palm was empty.
The silver bracelet was gone.
Veyric looked at the table, then at the floor. There was no sound of metal falling, no blue cord caught between her fingers, and no trace of the bracelet near her feet.
"Where is it?"
Nyelle stared at her empty hand.
"I was holding it."
"I know."
"I didn’t drop it."
Their mother moved closer, but stopped when the white circular mark on the table pulsed.
The small figure took a step backward.
"Don’t look for it."
Veyric turned sharply. "Why?"
"Because it was never just a bracelet."
Nyelle’s eyes lifted.
"What was it?"
The figure looked at her empty palm.
"A recognition marker."
Before Veyric could ask what that meant, four knocks sounded beneath the floor.
His right hand jerked.
Nyelle’s empty palm answered with a faint white glow.
The phone displayed one final notification.
[THIRD SUBJECT: RECOGNITION TRANSFERRED.]
[PROTECTIVE SUBJECT: NYELLE.]
[CONNECTION: ACTIVE.]
Then, beneath the table, something knocked once more.
And this time, the sound came from directly underneath Nyelle.