The corridor groaned with age as Ash and Rika moved deeper into the heart of the underground facility. It felt as if the air itself resisted them—heavier, colder. Above them, a single cracked dome light flickered, then died with a buzz. They were descending into the last wing of the lab, where Solomon’s most confidential prototypes had been developed—at least, according to the encrypted blueprints Ash had memorized.

Rika paused. “Do you feel that?”

Ash didn’t respond at first. He tilted his head, listening. There it was—a high-pitched frequency, almost imperceptible, crawling at the edge of his consciousness like a phantom whisper. He reached into his coat and adjusted the frequency dampener in his ear.

“They’re running psych-harmonics through the vents,” he muttered. “Probably trying to disorient us before we reach the main vault.”

Rika scowled. “Great. Just what I needed. A headache and an existential crisis.”

Ash smirked but didn’t laugh. “Don’t worry. Existential dread looks good on you.”

“Shut up, Ash.”

---

They reached a reinforced door marked only by a silver plate with the number E-0 engraved into it.

Ash placed his gloved palm against the cold metal. “This is it.”

Rika watched him as he pulled out the translucent cube he’d stolen earlier from the security deck. It shimmered slightly under the pale emergency lights. He inserted it into the panel beside the door. A series of metallic clicks followed, then a hiss of air.

The door opened, slowly, like a beast yawning after centuries of sleep.

Inside, the walls were glass. Transparent, floor to ceiling. Rows of empty pods lined the chamber—each designed for incubation, each wired with neural threads, now dark and lifeless.

Except for one.

It still glowed a faint blue.

Rika approached it cautiously. Her voice dropped. “This… is a cryo-unit.”

Ash stepped beside her. “Subject still alive,” he noted, reading the blinking vitals. “But look at the name.”

There, on the bottom of the screen, was a label in faded red:

> Project: Echo | Host: A_06

Rika narrowed her eyes. “Wait. A_06? That’s your designation... isn’t it?”

Ash froze.

His mind reeled back—shards of memories slicing through the barriers he’d built. The sterile smell of needles. A woman’s voice humming a lullaby. Cold lights above. The number. Always the number. 06.

This wasn’t just a prototype. This was a mirror.

The person inside the pod had his face.

---

Flashback.

He was maybe ten. Strapped down. Needles in both arms. Solomon standing beside him, smiling like a god admiring his creation.

“You are my sixth success, Ash,” the man had said, “but the first one who lived long enough to laugh at me.”

---

Rika turned to him, her voice suddenly trembling. “What the hell is this?”

Ash didn’t answer. He stepped toward the pod, placed a hand against the glass. The person inside was identical to him—eyes closed, body still. But this… copy… had one key difference. The veins along his arms glowed faintly with a crimson pulse.

Not blue.

Not normal.

“You’re not just a clone,” Ash whispered. “You’re… the failsafe.”

The pod’s biometric sensors detected Ash’s proximity, and a low hum began to rise. The temperature dropped. The clone’s eyes fluttered beneath closed lids.

“Ash, we need to leave,” Rika warned. “Now.”

But Ash couldn’t move. His past, his future, and every question he never dared ask stood in front of him, alive and breathing.

Suddenly, the lights around them turned red.

Containment breach detected.

The voice echoed from every corner of the room.

The pod hissed.

---

They ran.

The entire facility shook as backup systems activated. Defense turrets dropped from the ceiling, scanning for foreign presence. Ash shoved Rika ahead as they ducked through emergency side tunnels, rerouting away from the main corridor.

“Solomon knew,” Ash said breathlessly, “he knew I’d come here someday. That’s why the clone was asleep. Waiting.”

Rika glanced at him. “What do you think he’ll do now?”

Ash didn’t answer.

But he knew.

If Solomon’s backup plan had awakened, the game was about to change.

---

They escaped just as the facility sealed itself with a thunderous boom. Emergency locks dropped. The entire chamber began to descend—buried deeper beneath the earth.

From a cliff above, Ash and Rika stood, panting, as the forest slowly swallowed the lab once more.

For a moment, silence.

Then Ash dropped to one knee, pulling off his gloves. His hands were shaking.

Rika placed a hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me.”

Ash’s voice was low. “I saw my face… inside a cage. And I felt nothing. That’s what scares me most.”

“You’re not like him,” she said quietly.

“No,” Ash replied. “I’m worse. Because I survived it… and now I understand what he was trying to build.”

---

Later that night, Ash sat alone near their makeshift camp. A cracked photo he had taken from the lab rested on his lap.

It showed Solomon… standing beside a row of children. Each with blank stares. Numbers on their collars.

Ash stared at the sixth child.

Then he turned the photo over.

On the back, in Solomon’s handwriting:

> “Echoes are made, not born.

The perfect spy is one who doesn’t even know he’s working for you.”

Ash closed his eyes.

A new storm was coming.

But this time, it wore his face.