Nyelle couldn’t stop looking at the two boys on the screen.
They stood on opposite sides of the same narrow corridor, separated by a strip of white light. Both had Veyric’s face. Both looked frightened, and both were reaching toward her as though the distance between them could be closed if she would only make a choice.
But only one had called her name.
And she had taken the other one’s hand.
"I didn’t know," she whispered.
Veyric moved closer. "Nyelle?"
"I thought I was bringing you back."
"You were a child."
"I heard you calling me. I heard you, Veyric."
Her voice broke on his name.
The recording continued playing silently. The younger girl stood between the two boys, her hand extended toward the one with the white marking beneath his skin. The other boy had lowered his arm. He wasn’t crying anymore, and something about the way he watched her made Veyric’s chest tighten.
It wasn’t anger.
It was disappointment.
The kind that came after someone had waited for a person who never arrived.
"Stop the recording," Veyric said.
The small figure reached for the phone, but Nyelle caught its wrist.
"No."
"Let go."
"I want to see what happened."
"You’ve seen enough."
"Not for you to decide."
The small figure pulled free, but it didn’t touch the phone again. Its attention remained fixed on the image, and Veyric noticed that it had moved slightly farther from the table.
Their mother approached the screen.
"Nyelle, listen to me. Whatever you remember, it may not have happened exactly as you’re seeing it."
Nyelle turned toward her.
"Then tell me what happened."
"I can’t."
"Did you know there were two boys?"
Their mother looked at the screen. Her expression changed as she studied the children, particularly the different markings beneath their hands.
"I remember being told there were two versions of the same subject. I thought one was a memory copy."
"What does that mean?" Veyric asked.
"It means they believed one could exist outside the chamber while the other remained connected to it."
Veyric looked at the two figures.
"Which one was supposed to come out?"
Their mother hesitated.
"The one who could recognize Nyelle."
Nyelle shook her head.
"But both of them knew me."
"Not in the same way."
The distinction made Veyric turn toward her.
"What are you saying?"
Their mother struggled to find the right words.
"One remembered you as his sister. The other remembered you as the person who had to open the door."
Nyelle’s face tightened.
For a moment, she seemed to be considering the difference. Then she looked back at the recording, where the two boys remained separated by the narrow strip of light.
"Which one was which?"
"I don’t know."
"Of course."
"Nyelle—"
"Don’t." She raised a hand. "Please don’t tell me you wish you could remember. I know you do. I just can’t keep listening to people explain what they don’t know while I stand here discovering things I apparently did."
The phone suddenly emitted a short tone.
The image changed.
The younger Nyelle had taken the white-marked boy’s hand. She was leading him toward the corridor exit, while the blue-marked boy remained behind the glass.
Then something unexpected happened.
The boy being led away turned around.
He looked directly at the other child and mouthed something.
Veyric leaned closer.
"What did he say?"
The small figure answered quietly.
"Stay."
Veyric looked at it.
"You can read his lips?"
The figure went still.
"I remember saying it."
Nyelle slowly turned toward it.
"You said that?"
The small figure didn’t answer.
The recording continued. The white-marked boy stepped through the doorway, and the younger Nyelle followed him, still holding his hand. Before the door closed, the blue-marked boy approached the glass and pressed his palm against it.
His mouth moved again.
This time, Veyric understood.
You promised.
The door shut.
The recording ended.
Nyelle backed away from the table.
"I brought the wrong one."
Nobody corrected her.
Veyric felt an uncomfortable pressure building in his chest. He wanted to tell her she hadn’t known, that a child couldn’t be expected to understand the consequences of a decision made by adults who had deliberately kept the truth from her. He wanted to remind her that the people responsible had given her an impossible choice and then left her to carry the consequences.
But he also knew that comfort wouldn’t erase what she had remembered.
"Nyelle," he said carefully, "you didn’t make that decision with the information we have now."
She looked at him.
"But I still chose."
"You were told what to do."
"I chose the hand I held."
Veyric had no answer.
The small figure moved toward the phone.
"The recording is incomplete. It doesn’t show what happened after the door closed."
Nyelle faced it.
"Then show us."
"I can’t."
"Why?"
"Because I wasn’t there."
Veyric stared at it.
"You just said you remembered saying stay."
The figure looked down.
"I remember saying it. I don’t remember which version of me said it."
That answer left Veyric with more questions than before. The figure had the same face, the same voice, and memories that appeared to belong to both children. Yet even it couldn’t distinguish between the things it had witnessed and the things it had been made to believe.
A faint sound came from the floor.
The four knocks returned, but this time they were uneven. Three came quickly, followed by a pause so long that Veyric almost thought the sequence had ended.
Then the fourth arrived.
The white markings beneath the table rearranged themselves.
Two circles appeared.
One carried a blue point.
The other carried a white point.
A third marking appeared between them, but it wasn’t a circle. It looked like an open hand, its fingers spread toward the two symbols.
The phone displayed:
[SUBJECT POSITIONS: PARTIALLY RESTORED.]
[BLUE DESIGNATION: REMAINING.]
[WHITE DESIGNATION: RETURNED.]
[THIRD DESIGNATION: WITNESS.]
Nyelle looked at the last line.
"Witness?"
Their mother went rigid.
The small figure moved away from the table.
Veyric noticed immediately.
"Why are you backing away?"
The figure’s eyes remained on the word.
"Because that isn’t Nyelle’s designation."
Their mother stepped toward the markings.
"No."
Veyric looked at her. "What?"
"Witness was my designation."
The room seemed to contract around them.
The phone screen flickered.
[WITNESS: CONFIRMED.]
[AUTHORITY: WITHDRAWN.]
[RECALL PRIVILEGE: RESTORED.]
Their mother stared at the words.
"I thought they had taken that from me."
"What does recall privilege mean?" Nyelle asked.
Their mother looked toward the sealed passage.
"It means I was allowed to bring someone back."
The small figure suddenly seized her arm.
"Don’t use it."
She pulled away. "You said you didn’t remember the procedure."
"I remember enough to know that you mustn’t."
"Who gave me that authority?"
The figure looked at the table.
"You did."
Veyric stepped between them.
"Enough. Nobody is using anything until we understand what it does."
His right hand began to ache.
The blue line beneath his skin pulsed once, then went dark. He stared at his palm, waiting for the familiar marking to return, but it remained hidden beneath his skin.
The phone responded immediately.
[RECALL PRIVILEGE: REQUESTED.]
[AUTHORIZING SUBJECT: WITNESS.]
[RECALL TARGET: BLUE DESIGNATION.]
Their mother stepped backward.
"I didn’t request anything."
The phone vibrated again.
[REQUEST SOURCE: INTERNAL.]
Veyric looked at his hand.
The small figure stared at him.
"It’s you."
Veyric frowned. "I didn’t touch the phone."
"Not your hand. Something connected to you."
The white marking on the table brightened.
Then the empty space beside the table began to distort.
The same adolescent figure from the previous encounter slowly emerged. Its outline was clearer now. Its face remained difficult to see, but Veyric could distinguish its eyes.
They were his eyes.
Only older.
The figure looked at their mother.
"You’re late."
She covered her mouth.
"Eren?"
The figure lowered its head.
"You remembered."
Nyelle took a step forward. "Are you the one behind the door?"
The figure looked at her.
"You brought someone out."
"I know."
"You left someone behind."
"I know."
"Then why are you looking for me?"
Nyelle struggled to answer. Her fingers tightened around Veyric’s hand, and she seemed to be searching for a response that wouldn’t sound like another excuse.
The figure’s expression softened, though the distortion around its body continued to shift.
"Because you remember the wrong part."
Veyric stepped forward.
"What is the right part?"
The figure looked at him.
"You didn’t come back alone."
A faint sound came from behind the sealed passage.
Something scraped against the surface.
The adolescent figure turned toward it.
"It’s still there."
The small version of Veyric moved beside him.
"Don’t open it."
The adolescent figure looked at the small one.
"You still don’t understand."
"Understand what?"
"You weren’t the one who stayed."
The small figure shook its head.
"I was told I was."
"You were told many things."
The adolescent figure turned toward Veyric.
"The one who stayed wasn’t the one behind the glass."
Veyric’s mind raced.
"Then who?"
The figure slowly raised its hand and pointed at the floor beneath them.
"The one who stayed was the one you brought back."
A sudden vibration travelled through Veyric’s chest.
He doubled over.
Nyelle caught him.
"Veyric!"
The white marking beneath his skin spread across his palm. For an instant, the pain became unbearable, and the chamber disappeared.
He saw a room he had never visited in his conscious memory.
A child lying on a narrow bed.
A white coat.
A door being locked.
Someone standing outside the room, speaking to another person in a voice that sounded strangely familiar.
"The replacement must believe he is the original."
The vision vanished.
Veyric struggled to straighten. His breathing came unevenly, and his right hand remained clenched against his chest.
Nyelle held his arm.
"What did you see?"
"A room."
"What else?"
"Someone was talking about a replacement."
The phone displayed a new message.
[RECALL TARGET: IDENTIFIED.]
[SUBJECT: WHITE DESIGNATION.]
[LOCATION: SECOND CHAMBER.]
[STATUS: AWAKE.]
Nyelle stared at the screen.
"The white one is awake?"
The adolescent figure nodded.
"Yes."
Veyric looked at it.
"Then who am I?"
The figure didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, it studied his face with an expression that was almost unbearably sad.
"You’re the one who came back believing he had been rescued."
The small figure stepped toward Veyric.
"Don’t listen to it."
But Veyric couldn’t look away from the adolescent.
"Did Nyelle bring me out?"
The figure nodded.
"Yes."
"Did I call her?"
"No."
The answer was immediate.
Veyric felt his throat tighten.
"Then why did she choose me?"
The adolescent looked at Nyelle.
"Because the other one told her you would die if she didn’t."
Nyelle’s face went pale.
The figure continued.
"He told her that the boy behind the glass was already gone."
Nyelle shook her head.
"No. I remember hearing that."
The adolescent’s expression changed.
"You remember who told you?"
Nyelle looked at the small figure.
Then at Veyric.
Finally, she whispered:
"He had your face."
The chamber lights flickered.
The small figure backed away.
Veyric watched it, trying to reconcile the answer with the memories it had shared. The figure had been told it was Veyric. It remembered waking after the separation and being praised for surviving. It had been made to protect him, but it had also helped keep him from discovering which version had returned.
Perhaps it had been deceived.
Perhaps it had been given a role that required it to deceive everyone else.
Neither possibility made him trust it.
The adolescent figure spoke one final sentence.
"That’s because he was the first replacement."
The phone went dark.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then, from somewhere beneath the floor, a child’s voice called out.
"Nyelle?"
A pause.
"Tell my brother I’m still waiting."
Veyric closed his eyes.
He knew that voice.
It was the voice of the boy who had been left behind.