There was a figure of a man draped in a white shawl standing right where my reflection should have been.

“AHHHHHH!” I screamed. But… no sound came from my throat. That wasn’t all. My legs felt weak. My body was cold and my heart began racing so fast that I could hear the throb of its beat in my ears.

Even though Gen was in the next room I felt utterly helpless and alone.

Who is this man in the mirror and how did he get in here? My reflection was nowhere to be seen. And there is no one else but me in this room. Above all, my apartment is located in one of the most secure buildings in the country. If anyone could just break in, the building would have been crawling with media people, just based on the profiles of the residents.

The man’s hood covered his eyes and most of his face looked down at me as my legs gave way and I fell to the floor like a puppet whose strings are abruptly cut in mid-performance.

“Rise, child.” The man’s tone hinted that he saw me as one.

I couldn’t stand up. I wanted to, but it was as though some kind of unknown force was holding me down. Whether it was fear or something deep within that was restricting my control over my body, I could not ascertain. I could only lie there and stare up at the stranger in the mirror.

“Come now, there is nothing wrong with you. Why not try standing?”

He was a bit gentler this time, although it still sounded like an order than a request.

I took his suggestion and attempted to move my body. Surprisingly, I could. As I rose to my feet, I looked around my bedroom to see how the stranger could have pulled off such a trick. Even if the bedroom was actually empty, it didn’t denote that the tech gizmos in my room hadn’t somehow been compromised.

Still, that did not explain the loss of my voice. I considered the possibilities of this encounter. A projection? No, the figure was too solid. A video recording? Even though my mirror had a video function and was connected to the network, there was no camera attached. So then how could the man move his head and follow my movements in between when I was on the ground and now standing up to face him.

What had I eaten? What had I drunk? Had there been something in the drink that Shane had left for me!

“You do not need to try so hard. I am not here on behalf of your manager, or your organisation.”

“What the hell are you?” My voice was back !

Gen heard my yell from the other room and responded: “Everything all right, Maki?”

The man in the mirror nodded in agreement.

“Yes, everything’s fine.” I yelled back. “Nothing to worry about.” Why was I saying this? Everything was surely not fine.

“I should introduce myself after making such a brash entry. My name is Aesop. I have come to see for myself one of the first Untaimed to be initiated.”

Aesop? No one I knew had a name like that. Whoever he was, he surely knew my name. I did not answer and let him continue.

“In case you are wondering, I am not a projection or a recording. In fact, I am not even in your room at this moment.”

“What do you mean? What did you do to me?” I held my throat to imply what I was asking.

“I just scripted your action and you followed it to the letter.”

He scripted it? I thought of any technology that could do something like that. “That’s impossible.”

[Purple Prose], Aesop responded. It is a CON or Construct Overwriting Node.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You possess one too.”

Then it hit me. Was this man a human? Not the kind we are programmed to be but an ACTUAL human? The creators? The ones above?

If that were true, then all this made a lot more sense.

About a week ago when I had woken up, I had had memories, thoughts and information in my head that previously had not existed. I had been talking to people I had supposedly known for a long time. I had gone to places I would never normally have visited, especially alone. I had thought I was sick; that I may have been inflicted with some sort of illness, but slowly as I shut myself in, I made sense of all the information.

Either I had gone completely insane or had a split personality, or, the most terrifying alternative, my body was being used by someone else. I wasn’t a hundred percent sure about this, but it was most likely a female. She wouldn’t do anything that was egregious, essentially experienced the same life as I did, but made decisions and took actions her way. Not that those were too different from my own, with the exception of a few which were carried out on impulse, now that I had analysed everything in hindsight.

“Are you a human?” I asked in a whisper.

“If only I were so lucky.” Aesop simpered. “No child, I am a Scion. We were created, nurtured and sometimes made as replicas of humans, but I too am trapped within this world. We are not alike though, even if you are an Untaimed.”

There is that word again: ‘Untaimed’. Am I supposed to be in this slur of a category?

“What’s with the ‘child’ title? You can refer to me as Maki, you know.”

“Ms. Avery, then. I do not go by first names unless a friendship is formed, and we are quite far from that. Otherwise, Ms. Avery, you and everyone else are much, MUCH, younger than I am, and are therefore children.”

Ms. Avery, huh… I haven’t been called that since before my musical career began, and my manager suggested I drop my last name for my ‘Artist Name’. Especially since it was linked to my brother Gen. And no one wanted to be linked to him in any capacity.

“What exactly is an Untaimed?”

“I am afraid it's better if you define that yourself, considering it's something you can put better into words than I. But I must say I am rather fascinated by your case.”

My case?

“The Untaimed don’t just pop into existence. Something external causes an error with a pre- established programme. The young lady inhabiting your body would, for instance, have to relinquish control over to you while her ‘Saved Data’ was still in play. In other words, it is either you, Maki Avery that is living the life, or the young intruder who is living life through you. It cannot be both. Yet, that is apparently the case. She is supposed to be in control of you right now, but she is not. Therefore, you have all of her memories and capabilities, but you are still you.”

I grew more and more curious about this young lady intruder that he spoke of.

“Alas, you can’t meet her.”

Was he reading my mind?

“She sadly passed away, via a self-inflicted wound.”

Wait, she killed herself!?

“Yes, I was just as shocked.”

Aesop could probably read the expression on my face on that occasion, but did it mean that all of this was happening because of her suicide? Did she die because of me, or for me ?

“Her death has set you free. How poetic. I would shed a tear had I cared.”

That was rather insensitive. “What are you…”

“I am not interested in that foolish human, Ms. Avery. I am interested in you. Show it to me! Show me your CON!”

As if on command, I opened my ‘Dashboard’. This was a levitating rectangular box with scrambled text in it. It was something akin to what we use on our devices to modulate functions for applications. But we always needed a screen or a device to display such a screen. Having a screen appear in our line of sight wasn’t something people in our world could do. Although it had been theorised in many future-fiction novels.

This ‘function’ I suppose designed for the humans inhabiting us. This rectangular box with text was called a ‘window’ by humans too. So we shared a similar discovery and had given it an identical name.

The proper term was ‘Dashpard’ because it had several tasks and functionalities which affected me or the world around me.

From the memories I was left with, I pieced together what this floating translucent text box was and what it could do; or rather, did; as the text had now been scrambled and several portions were unclickable.

“Click on the second option then, over there.” Aesop said and moved accordingly. I wasn’t even sure what he was directing me to, but it seemed to be correct because he continued his instructions: “Now click on the fourth box. Scroll down, lower, lower. Now click on the second tab.”

Aesop was narrating my actions exactly.

“You get to name your own CON. But if you’d do me the honour, I’d like to call it: [Superposition].”

Do him the honour, he says. Aesop’s [Purple Prose] was having some effect on my body. He said something about scripting. Was he scripting my actions? Could he control my every move?

“Sure.” I nod, hiding my reluctance behind a smile. “Sounds appropriate.”

Aesop didn’t say anything. He just stood there as I had three options on the Dashboard in front of me.

Asset Visibility: On ; Asset Collision: On ; Asset Hitbox: On

“Turn ‘Asset Hitbox’, ‘Off’.” Aesop ordered.

I clicked on it, and it promptly changed to switched to Off.

Asset Visibility: On ; Asset Collision: On ; Asset Hitbox: Off

“Now what,” I thought to myself.

“Now,” Aesop grinned, “You attempt to crack open your skull.”

“WAIT, I DO WHAT?”

Without a second to lose I placed both my hands on either side of my mirror, and with one final glance towards the excited man, *CRAAAASH!* I slammed my head against the mirror shattering the glass.

The sound of the smash resonated through my head and reverberated in my ears. I heard a number of small simultaneous cracks.

I recoiled and fell to the ground, as pieces of glass split off from the mirror and fell to the ground. This was no ordinary mirror. It would take considerable force to shatter it.

That was it for me. There was no way my skull could remain in one piece…

My brother burst into my room. “WHAT HAPPENED!” Gen shouted as he ran towards me.

He most likely would see only his sister with her head split open and blood oozing out.

“What are you doing on the floor?” he asked, bewildered. He looked at the mirror. “Why the hell did you break such a mirror? It costs a fortune. What a waste.”

The mirror was an expensive piece of technology. It was essentially a computer screen connected to the network and the in-house appliances. Behind the layer of reflective glass were the chips of the processor, which Gen could see as the mirror was shattered; and so deduced that it was a mirror only the elite could afford.

Still, he did care more about the mirror than about his little sister.

“What are you doing on the floor?” he asked again, sounding a bit annoyed this time.

I reached for my head to show him the state I was in… but there was nothing.

No wound. No blood. In fact, I couldn’t even feel the pain.

That last option… The ‘Hitbox’. Now I knew what it meant! Had it not been activated, my body would have accepted the outcome of the collision and registered the damage. That was the difference between the On and Off on the ‘Hitbox’. ‘Visibility’ seemed intuitive but I thought I had figured out the other Two options. ‘Collision’ makes it such that I am impacted by forces, otherwise I would have fallen straight through the floor right now and the latter was set to actually register the forces on my biological composition. I still had to experiment, but if I were right, what a dangerous setting it was that humans could play with.

“You know, I think it’s better if I come back another day.” Gen said as looked around at the state of my room. He did not appreciate messy living quarters.: it was one of the familiar qualities he still had.

Gen moved closer to me, and bent down on one knee to meet me at eye level.

He gave me a smile that I was almost fooled by. “You take care of yourself, Maki,” he said. “I am very concerned about you. I will visit you more often from now on.”

Of course you will. I promised to pay. And you won’t leave without getting the money.

“Oh, and one last other Maki,” Gen moved a bit closer. “I certainly don’t want you to think I came just to talk business with you.”

What are you getting at, Gen…

“You’re almost at retirement age. You may want to think about what you want to do next.”

Gen was right about that. I was 25. My career as an idol was coming to an end. But Gen had no right to tell me this. Especially since he had not offered a modicum of support throughout the decade.

“Don’t worry,” Gen sensed my hurt. “I have the perfect place for you. It's where you were always meant to be.”