The villa was quiet. Too quiet.
Zeyan sat on the edge of the couch, scrolling through surveillance stills. Every image was sharper than the last—Prototype 2 seen in reflections, elevator corners, even at the lab's evacuation point. She was always just behind, just outside their grasp.
"She's watching us," he muttered.
Ruoxi entered with two mugs of tea, setting one beside him. Her face looked rested, but her eyes betrayed the storm underneath.
"Or she's waiting," she said. "Like a shadow that knows we can't stop looking for the light."
Zeyan looked at her, scanning her expression for traces of fear—but all he saw was resolve.
"We'll catch her," he said.
"No," Ruoxi corrected, sitting down. "We'll catch the truth first. And let it lead us to her."
Across the hallway, Lin Qian sat in bed, her knees pulled to her chest, trembling.
The memory had returned like a splinter tearing through her mind. She hadn't told them yet—because part of her couldn't believe it.
But the image was clear.
A small white chamber. A girl inside a glass pod, unconscious. Tubes attached. Heart monitor beeping faintly.
A technician's voice:
"She's the backup. If Lin Qian fails emotional sync, we activate this one instead."
Lin Qian had stood there, watching.
But she hadn't been afraid.
She had whispered, "You look like me."
The girl in the pod had stirred. Only slightly.
And then, a voice behind Lin Qian:
"Don't worry. She's not real. She's just the fail-safe."
But Lin Qian remembered the pang in her heart. The guilt. The connection.
She had returned to that chamber many times.
Until one day, the girl in the glass was gone.
Ruoxi knocked gently on the doorframe.
"May I?"
Lin Qian nodded.
Ruoxi sat on the edge of the bed. "You haven't said much since we escaped."
"I remembered her," Lin Qian said softly. "Not Prototype 2. The first one. The girl behind the glass."
Ruoxi froze.
Lin Qian looked up. "I think I saw you… before you were awake."
Ruoxi's breath caught. "Me?"
"I was a child. They brought me to the observation deck and told me you were a test model. That you didn't feel anything. But I… I remember standing there and feeling like I knew you."
Ruoxi's voice was barely audible. "Did I open my eyes?"
Lin Qian nodded slowly. "Only once. But I never forgot."
Ruoxi reached for her hand. "You remembered when no one else did."
Lin Qian smiled faintly. "Maybe that's why they made me forget everything else."
Meanwhile, in the villa's den, Zeyan received a secure message.
It was a voice recording.
He recognized the voice immediately.
His uncle. Mo Qianming.
Presumed dead. Lost in a car explosion a decade ago. But the message was recent.
"Zeyan, if you've found this, then you've gone too deep. Twin Flame was never about memory—it was about emotional control. Your mother tried to shut it down before it reached Phase Three. That's why she disappeared. That's why I ran."
Zeyan's hands clenched around the tablet.
His mother hadn't died of illness.
She'd been eliminated.
The message continued:
"There's a vault in the MoTech Research Annex. Basement Level 3. Use the family ring. Everything you need to know is there. But be warned—if she's active again, then you're not just fighting science. You're fighting the woman who knows how you feel before you do."
The message ended.
Later that night, Ruoxi found Zeyan staring at the old photo of his mother—Mo Qinghua.
"She was kind, wasn't she?" she asked gently.
He nodded. "Too kind for the world she lived in."
Ruoxi touched the screen. "She's part of me. Not just biologically. But in the way I protect people."
"You remind me of her," Zeyan said. "Not in the way you look, but in how you never give up on anyone. Not even yourself."
Ruoxi turned to him. "Do you still believe I'm not just a copy?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he leaned in and kissed her—soft, deep, and grounding.
When they broke apart, he said, "No one could ever program this."
Far away, Prototype 2 sat in a surveillance room lit only by monitors.
She watched the kiss. Her own hand curled into a fist.
"They're bonding too quickly," a technician muttered.
Prototype 2 stood. "Then we separate them."
She pressed a button.
The screen shifted to MoTech's Research Vault.
"Let him chase ghosts," she whispered. "While I bring the fire home."
Back at the villa, Lin Qian walked into Ruoxi's room holding a folded paper.
"I think you need to see this," she said.
Ruoxi opened it.
It was a child's drawing. Crumpled. Old.
Two girls holding hands beneath a tree.
One had the name "Qian."The other: "Xi."
"I don't remember drawing this," Lin Qian said. "But I kept it. All this time."
Ruoxi traced the names.
"They tried to rewrite everything," she whispered. "But they couldn't rewrite us.