The eyes inside the cradle snapped fully open.
Not soft.
Not confused.
Not hesitant.
They opened with purpose, sharp, blazing, almost predatory.
Ash staggered back a step, every instinct in him screaming that something old and sleeping had just awakened… and it knew him far better than he knew himself.
The glass shell hissed as thin cracks spread across its surface.
Kai grabbed Seren's wrist. "We need to get out. Now. That thing, whatever it is, it's waking up."
"Ash," Seren whispered, clutching his sleeve, "don't go closer. Please."
But Ash couldn't look away.
It was like staring into a distorted reflection of his own soul.
The cradle lights flickered, then burst in a shower of sparks as the glass dissolved into mist. The figure inside slowly sat up, barefoot, pale, wearing a thin medical interface suit that clung to its skin.
It inhaled for the first time, like learning air itself.
Then its gaze locked on Ash.
"Ash," it said,
not in a copied voice, but in a tone that vibrated through the floor, deeper than human speech.
As if it came from the core of the building.
Seren stepped between them, fear trembling through her voice. "Stay back!"
The copy tilted its head, eyes gliding over her like she was useless background noise.
Then it looked back at Ash and smiled.
A slow, knowing smile.
"Ash… the original. I've waited a long time to see you."
Kai's face drained of color. "Nope. Nope, I hate this. What does it mean, original?"
Ash forced himself to speak. "Who are you?"
The copy rose from the cradle. It moved with strange precision. Fluid, but wrong in a way that made the room feel smaller.
"I'm what they designed you to become," it said. "Before they changed their minds."
Seren's grip tightened around Ash's arm. "Ash, don't listen to it."
The copy lifted a hand and examined its own fingers with fascination, as if it were still learning what existence felt like.
"They called me Model Zero," it continued. "But that isn't my real name."
It took a step forward, bare feet silent on the polished floor.
"My name," it whispered, "is the part of you they tried to erase."
Ash's chest tightened. A memory flashed, brief and fractured. His mother holding him close, whispering something he couldn't quite remember. Something that sounded like a warning.
Kai swallowed hard. "This is bad. This is seriously bad."
The copy looked at him briefly, expression unreadable.
Then it returned its attention to Ash.
"You're incomplete without me," it said softly. "I am the missing half. The one carrying everything they took out of you."
Ash felt the air shift.
Seren stepped in front of him again, trembling but unbroken. "Stay away from him."
The copy blinked slowly. "I'm not here to harm him."
Then it smiled again.
"But he won't stay whole unless we become one."
The words hit Ash with a coldness that vibrated through his bones.
Kai backed up until he hit the wall. "Okay, that's it. We're leaving. Ash, we're dragging you out if we have to."
"Ash," Seren whispered, voice shaking, "you don't have to go near him. Please."
The copy took another step.
And Ash felt something behind his ribs tug.
The same pull that had drawn him to the room, but stronger now, almost painful.
Almost like his body recognized the copy as something vital.
Like a puzzle piece calling for its missing half.
"Ash," the copy whispered, voice low and resonant, "come here. You'll understand once you touch me."
Seren grabbed Ash's hand, holding it tightly.
He didn't move.
He couldn't.
And for the first time since entering the room, fear settled deep under his skin.
Because the copy wasn't lying.
Ash could feel something waiting for him.
Something he wasn't sure he wanted to know.