The smile on the screen didn't belong to her.
Not really.
Not exactly.
It curled just a little too high on the left, like the face wasn't used to wearing it. Like it was still trying it on.
Arwa staggered back.
Her shoulder bumped into the locked door, the sharp clang of metal breaking the silence in her ears.
The image of the two Arwas on the screen remained—one standing still, one sitting perfectly still, still not breathing.
Still smiling.
"This is a verification scan,"
the voice above said again, calm as ever.
"To confirm your placement in the reality stream."
"What reality stream?" she gasped.
"Yours."
"Hopefully."
A new flicker—static—and the screen split.
On the left: Arwa, standing, breathing hard, shaking.
On the right: Arwa, calm, sitting in the chair labeled Original, her eyes open wide, focused—too focused. Glassy.
Then—
The right Arwa tilted her head.
And stood up.
The chair scraped softly back.
"No," Arwa whispered. "No no no no—"
The version of her on the screen stepped forward… and the screen blurred.
No longer a video.
A reflection.
Arwa whipped around.
There was someone else in the room.
Her.
Down to the heartbeat. The posture. The trembling fingers.
But no fear in the eyes.
Just… observation.
The Other Arwa moved closer, head tilted like she was studying a specimen. Her voice, when it came, was barely a whisper but perfectly clear.
"I wanted to see what you'd choose."
Arwa backed up fast, hitting the corner wall.
"You're not me."
A shrug. "Not yet. But close enough. It's the decision that makes it final."
"What decision?"
"To sit… or not to."
Arwa stared.
Behind the Other, the original chair now glowed faintly.
White light.
The voice overhead chimed again.
"Subject 19, protocol breach in progress. Three minutes to correction loop."
"What does that mean?" Arwa cried. "What happens in three minutes?"
The Other Arwa took another step. Her voice sharpened.
"It loops. The room. The memory. You. Until you sit."
"You want me to just give up? To agree to this—this copy?!"
The Other smiled again—smaller now, like it understood something Arwa didn't.
"I'm not the copy."
Arwa's stomach twisted.
"No. That's not how this works. I came here. I got the message. I—"
She paused.
The envelope.
The ink circle.
Who sent it?
She never checked if it was real.
The Other's eyes flicked toward the glowing chair.
"If you sit, you leave. If you don't, you stay."
"But only one of you can go."
One of you.
One.
---
The screen began flashing red.
CORRECTION LOOP IMMINENT
SELECT PRIMARY
The lights in the room dimmed. A humming vibration started beneath her feet.
The chair's glow grew stronger.
Arwa looked at the Other Arwa.
Identical. But still… off.
Her own breath was ragged. Her body ached. Her mind raced.
She took one step forward.
The Other did not move.
She took another.
Stopped just inches from the chair.
Her hand trembled as she reached out.
But at the last second—she turned.
Faced the Other.
And said:
"You sit."
The Other Arwa blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then…
She obeyed.
Slid into the chair with quiet grace.
A soft chime.
The screen flashed.
PRIMARY CONFIRMED
SUBJECT 19: STABLE
EXIT UNLOCKED
The door behind Arwa hissed open.
But as she stepped out, heart still thundering, she didn't know for sure—
—if she was the one who left.
Or the one who sat.
---