The cryo-chamber hissed.
Cold mist curled around the edges as the temperature climbed from inhuman to tolerable. The glass, once frosted with layers of digital security, blinked green.
“Authorization accepted.”
Inside the pod, the clone’s eyes twitched.
Alessio stood at the observation glass, jaw clenched so tight it looked carved from stone. “This is a mistake.”
Noa didn’t answer.
He was staring at himself.
Well another version of himself.
The clone had been cleaned up, dressed in plain black sweats and a biometric collar designed to knock him out if he got too frisky. Ivy’s failsafe. Not perfect, but enough to buy them time if things went sideways.
Which they would.
Because this was Noa without a filter.
Without Alessio.
Without guilt.
He opened his eyes.
And smiled.
“Hi.”
