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The clone appeared. Kai walked to the very edge of the shelf where the drop turned air into a lesson. He did not look down. He turned his head and watched the horizon move. He watched for the wobble that fear puts in knees when it is rude. The clone's knees stayed honest. The Anchor made fear choose another table.
"Good." Kai said to himself.
He dismissed the body and stood with his own again.
"Personality drift," he told the system. "Test deliberately."
[Ding! Drift impossible under Stability Lock. However, the host may verify.]
He called up an old scent — a leaf crushed under a boot in a wet place far from deserts. He let memory be vivid enough to tempt a weaker tool to split him into before and after. Nothing moved where it should not. The Anchor did not bargain. He let the scent go.
He glanced at Miryam's shell. The hum answered his glance with the same patient throb. He set his palm above it and did not touch it.
"Almost," he said, and almost smiled.
