EPISODE 11: The Original Subject
1165 Words
The silence was back.
But it wasn’t the brittle, watchful kind Seviah had felt in Room Six.
This silence was heavy. Intentional.
Like something was holding its breath.
She and Renn moved cautiously through Sector C-1, passing door after door marked with symbols Seviah didn’t recognize. These weren’t the usual facility sigils—no numbers, no alphanumerics. Just spirals. Jagged stars. Archaic glyphs carved deep into metal.
“Where are we?” Renn whispered.
“Somewhere old,” Seviah murmured. “Maybe older than the Archive itself.”
“I thought you were the Archive now.”
“No,” she said. “I’m just the rewrite.”
They reached a fork in the corridor. One direction led up. To the surface. To freedom.
The other—down. Lights flickering in a soft red pulse. A low hum, just on the edge of hearing.
Seviah hesitated.
And turned down the path of the red light.
“Seriously?” Renn hissed. “We finally have a shot to get out, and you’re—”
“Something’s calling,” Seviah said simply. “If we don’t face it now, it’ll follow us to the end.”
The descent was steep and narrow. The air grew colder.
And then—steel doors.
A thick console stood beside them, black and blinking. It scanned Seviah the moment she stepped close.
Subject Confirmed.
Accessing Paired Archive.
“Paired?” Seviah said.
The doors hissed open.
Inside was silence again. But not oppressive. Not anxious.
Sacred.
A glass cylinder stood at the center of the room. Thick cords connected it to the ceiling like veins. Inside it was a girl.
White hair. Pale skin. Barefoot.
Sleeping.
She looked… exactly like Seviah.
Except older. Taller.
Peaceful.
Seviah took a step forward, but her knees buckled.
Memories—not hers—flooded her mind.
Running barefoot in a burning hall. Laughing before the screams started. A hand grabbing hers. A voice: “They can’t keep you both.”
Then silence.
The girl inside the cylinder opened her eyes.
They were gold.
Not the glowing white of Seviah’s Awakening.
But warm. Deep. Human.
She didn’t move.
But Seviah heard her voice anyway—inside her mind.
“You’re the copy.”
“You’re the Original.”
“I was the first. You were the replacement.”
“Then why am I still here?”
“Because they needed one they could control.”
Renn was frozen at the door, wide-eyed.
“This isn’t possible…”
“What is she?”
“Me,” Seviah said quietly. “But before.”
She stepped closer.
The cylinder’s glass slid open with a hiss.
The Original stepped forward.
The air shifted.
She was calm—but there was something beneath her skin. Something quiet and terrifying.
“They made us,” the original said aloud now, her voice smooth and unhurried. Split us. You for obedience. Me for chaos. But you rewrote the Archive. That means I’m awake.”
“What do you want?”
“Not revenge.”
She tilted her head.
“Clarity. And to meet the one they thought would be better than me.”
“I wasn’t better.”
“But you survived. That must count for something.”
Seviah frowned.
“Why now? Why wake up now?”
The Original’s smile faltered.
“Because there’s one more subject. Once they locked away even from me. And your rewrite… woke him too.”
Suddenly, a section of the wall retracted.
Another chamber.
Another cylinder.
But this one wasn’t made of glass.
It was obsidian. Veined in silver.
Whatever was inside didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
Didn’t belong.
The Original’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“He’s not like us. He’s not… human.”
“Then what is he?”
“The first experiment. The failure that lived. And he remembers everything.”
The console beside the cylinder blinked. Seviah saw her own name flash across it.
Then a message:
SUBJECT 000 AND SUBJECT O_1 SYNC COMPLETE
RELEASE OVERRIDE ACTIVE.
“They’re waking him,” Seviah breathed.
“We have to stop it,” Renn said.
The Original looked at them both.
“Or join him,” she said. “He’s the only one who knows why we were really made.”
“And you’d trust that?”
“I don’t trust anyone. Not even myself.”
The chamber’s lights pulsed violently now.
The obsidian shell cracked.
Seviah stepped back.
A low hum filled the room.
Then—
A breath.
Drawn from inside the cylinder.
Then the shell exploded outward.
Smoke. Light. A shadow rising from within.
And two eyes—
Not white.
Not gold.
But black.
Empty.
Hungry.
The figure inside stepped forward. Not a child. Not a man. Something in between. His skin shimmered, constantly shifting between textures. His face — beautiful and broken. Familiar and foreign.
He looked at Seviah.
And smiled.
“Hello, sister.”
Seviah gasped.
It wasn’t just memories disappearing.
It was identity.
She staggered, clutching her head as entire pieces of her life—thoughts, smells, fragments of days—peeled away like ash in the wind.
“Stop—!” she choked.
But the figure only tilted his head, studying her with unblinking eyes.
“I’m not stealing,” he said. I’m returning. What you were always meant to hold.”
Renn lunged forward, blade drawn.
“You’re hurting her!”
He caught her wrist mid-swing. Effortlessly. Gently. Like she was a child.
“Not yet.”
Then he released her.
She stumbled back, wide-eyed.
The Original stood beside Seviah now, unreadable.
“Is this your idea of reunion?”
“No,” he said. This is my idea of balance. You two were made to contain me. Split into halves—obedience and chaos. But I was never gone. Just waiting.”
Seviah tried to speak but coughed instead. Her vision flickered. Her body felt too small for itself, like it wasn’t designed to hold this much noise.
“If I’m part of you…” she whispered, “then why does it feel like I’m breaking?”
“Because you were never meant to live alone,” the figure said. Now the pieces are coming back together. Slowly. Perfectly.”
He stepped closer.
Seviah’s skin lit faintly, her veins glowing a pale white-blue.
The Original, by contrast, began to dim.
Like her light was being pulled inward.
She looked down at her fingers, watching the fire fade.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“He’s taking us back,” she whispered.
Suddenly—
A loud crack from above.
The room shook.
An explosion? A breach?
Renn turned toward the sound, heart pounding.
“That’s not part of the plan,” she muttered.
The intercom above their heads buzzed with static.
Then:
“ALL SUBJECTS. CONTAINMENT BREACH. CONTROL TOWER COMPROMISED.”
Seviah’s pulse spiked.
“They weren’t trying to release him.”
She looked up.
“They were trying to lock us in.”
- Writer
