The screen glowed with revelation.
One file became many.
Thirty-eight identical faces stared back at Alina. Not in mirrors—but in folders. Rows and rows of them, each with a variant name. Each labeled with status codes: “Live. Active. Awaiting Deployment.”
All with her face. All with Grace Vance’s ambition in their eyes.
It wasn’t madness.
It was design.
“They’re not just backups,” Camille murmured. “They’re weapons.”
Nicholas stood behind Alina, fists clenched. “This isn’t cloning. This is inheritance theft at a global scale.”
“They look like me,” Alina whispered, voice cold. “But they’ll never be me.”
The top file pulsed with a red glyph.
ECHO PRIME — ACTIVE.
Camille tapped fast. “She’s already moving. She’s inside Cain Towers.”
“Inside where?” Nicholas asked.
Camille swallo
