Morning light spilled into the apartment like a reluctant truth.
Liang Ruoxi stood at the window, staring out at the waking skyline, her reflection barely visible in the glass. Beside her on the kitchen counter sat two untouched cups of tea—one for herself, the other for the girl who had vanished in the night.
Prototype 1 — the one they'd rescued from the lab. The one who shared her face and pieces of her fragmented memories.
Gone.
"She left a note," Zeyan said from behind her, holding a thin piece of paper.
Ruoxi took it, already dreading what it would say. The handwriting was familiar—shaky, but deliberate.
I have to finish what I started. Don't follow me. You're the one who was meant to live. But someone out there wants to erase us both. If I fail… run.
Ruoxi closed her eyes.
Prototype 1 had always seemed brittle—like glass under pressure. But this choice… it wasn't desperation. It was conviction.
"She knew," Ruoxi whispered. "She knew she was never meant to survive."
Zeyan placed a hand on her shoulder. "She chose to. Even if only for a little while."
Later that morning, Ruoxi sat at the long dining table, the decrypted documents from the flash drive laid out in front of her. Bank records, lab notes, and biometric keys were all spread across the polished wood.
Across from her sat Lin Qian—the girl who had once been Mo Zeyan's sister, known before the fire as Linyue.
Now she was slowly remembering.
"It's strange," Lin Qian murmured, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Living here… with you. Knowing I used to be someone else. That I had a brother, a life... and they buried it."
Ruoxi gave a faint smile. "Strange is the new normal."
"I dream about water," Lin Qian said. "Drowning, but not dying. Like my mind was being rewritten every night. Do you think they did that to me?"
"Yes," Ruoxi said softly. "But we're taking it back now. Your memories. Our choices."
Zeyan entered the room, eyes on his tablet. "I found something."
They both turned.
He tapped the screen. A banking transaction record appeared.
"A company tied to QH Biogenics was reactivated two months ago—despite being legally dissolved. It's hidden under four shell corps, but the final authorization signature… matches Linyue's DNA."
Lin Qian stiffened. "What?"
Ruoxi leaned in. "But you're here. You're not involved in this."
Zeyan nodded. "Exactly. Which means someone is using your genetic profile. Possibly another clone… or someone who underwent memory grafting."
Ruoxi's pulse quickened. "Could it be Prototype 2?"
"The one from the hospital ward last week," Zeyan said. "Escaped after showing signs of future memory bleed. Could be tied to Phase Three of the project."
"Too many of us," Ruoxi muttered.
Zeyan looked at her. "That's the point. Project Twin Flame wasn't about preserving one life. It was about recreating one identity across different vessels. Controlling it."
Far away, in a cold underground facility nestled beneath the Swiss Alps, a wall of glowing monitors blinked in time with a pulse rhythm.
A woman in a sleek white suit stood at the center.
She looked strikingly similar to Lin Qian—but she was not Linyue.
She had no name. Only a designation: Phase Three: Reclaimer Class.
"Status report," she ordered.
A technician stepped forward. "Prototype 1 has left the known grid. Subject Ruoxi remains under surveillance. Prototype 2 is… activating."
"And Lin Qian?"
"Emotionally stable. Memories syncing slower than expected."
The woman turned toward the screen showing Ruoxi and Lin Qian in Zeyan's apartment. She smiled—cold and calculated.
"Let them bond. It makes breaking them more interesting."
The man hesitated. "Should we prepare a retrieval team?"
"No," she said. "Let the bird fly closer to the fire. The Firebird Protocol is in motion."
That night, Ruoxi stepped out onto the balcony alone. She wore one of Zeyan's robes, the collar loose around her collarbone. It was chilly, but she didn't care. The silence gave her space to feel.
So much had changed.
She used to think her life was a tragedy of betrayal. Then she discovered she was part of an experiment. Now she wasn't even sure which version of herself was real.
Zeyan joined her moments later, quietly placing a warm cup in her hands. "Lin Qian's asleep. She's… shaken."
"She's not the only one," Ruoxi murmured. "I keep asking myself—how many of me are out there? How many more will we have to face?"
Zeyan didn't answer right away.
"I don't care how many versions they made," he said finally. "None of them are you."
She looked at him. "You really believe that?"
"I know it. The person who stood up to her family, who saved Prototype 1 from a burning lab, who protected Lin Qian without hesitation—that's not something you can program. That's you."
Her breath caught.
He stepped closer, fingers brushing hers. "And every day, I believe in you more."
The words sat between them like a promise.
She didn't respond with words. Instead, she leaned in—resting her head gently against his chest.
No kiss. No declaration. Just warmth. Just presence.
But for Ruoxi… it was everything.
Far across the sea, in a sealed facility, Prototype 2 opened her eyes.
And smiled.