XAMI: One True Love

Chapter Sixty Seven: Convergence

Mila’s POV

The hum of the machines grew louder, vibrating through the floor beneath her bare feet. Every nerve in her body screamed that something was coming — and she knew instinctively it wasn’t a drone or a guard.

Her heartbeat skipped. Xavier.

She could feel him in the network somehow — a presence outside the chamber, yet tethered to her by something deeper. Her mind, still haunted by the clone’s echo, tried to focus. But the neural sync was unstable now, flickering violently with every second. Memories she didn’t live, thoughts that weren’t hers, flickered like lightning in her skull.

The clone shifted beside her — or inside her. She couldn’t tell anymore. Its thoughts intertwined with hers, whispering secrets she didn’t want to hear:

> He’s here. You’ll have to fight. You know you can’t hide.

Mila gritted her teeth. “I’m still me,” she muttered, voice low but steady, trying to anchor herself against the overwhelming tide of merged consciousness.

Then she heard it — a soft pounding on the metal doors, distant but distinct. Boots. Human. Someone running.

> Xavier.

Her pulse raced. Relief and fear collided in a flash of heat through her veins. She wanted to run to him, to be saved, but the clone’s presence pushed back. Resistance. Command. “Stay.”

Reality wavered. Her reflection in the nearby glass panel fractured, showing not one, but two Milas. One turned to face her, expression cold and calculating, and whispered:

> You can’t both exist. Only one leaves.

Mila staggered backward, hand pressed to her forehead. The clone’s memories surged — strategies, knowledge, emotions she hadn’t earned. Every fragment of herself, every shard of her identity, was being tugged in two directions at once.

And then she heard him — Xavier, closer now, shouting over the alarms:

> “Mila! Hold on! I’m coming!”

A thread of calm pierced the chaos. She latched onto it. She could feel the clone recoiling slightly as if it, too, sensed him.

> This is your chance, the clone whispered, almost taunting.

Mila closed her eyes. “I am still me,” she repeated, louder this time, voice echoing in the room, bouncing against the walls, the machines, the merged consciousness.

The alarms intensified, lights flickered violently, and the chamber shook as if aware of her defiance. Sparks flew from the consoles, casting jagged shadows on the walls. Reality bent — the lab stretched, twisted, merged with flashes of memory from both Milas.

And then, with a roar of metal and electricity, the doors burst open. Xavier lunged in, eyes wide, arms reaching for her.

Two figures faced him.

Two Milas.

And one of them had to be real.