***
Her own face stared back at her from the dark.
Same sharp cheekbones. Same glacial eyes. Same aura of authority.
But the woman in front of her wasn't wearing the ceremonial sigil. Her hair was shorter, uneven, hacked at with a blade. And her eyes—those eyes weren't programmed to obey. They burned.
"Who are you?" Seraphine demanded, heart pounding.
"I'm you," the mirror-woman said. "But I remember everything."
Before Seraphine could speak again, the lights flickered. The clone—no, the other clone—moved faster than any soldier she'd seen. In a breath, she was across the room, slamming Seraphine against the wall with inhuman strength.
"I watched you get activated," the woman hissed. "Watched them lie to you. Like they lied to me. Like they lied to the twelve before us."
"Thirteen…" Seraphine whispered.
"They created us to fix the cracks in the empire. But we're not rulers—we're disposable placeholders in pretty shells." Her grip tightened around Seraphine's throat. "Did they tell you why the real Seraphine X died?"
Seraphine clawed at her wrist. "She—she was assassinated—"
"Lies!" the woman snarled. "She killed herself. She tried to delete the cloning program. They stopped her. They restarted it with you. You're not their hope. You're their leash."
And just like that, the woman released her.
Seraphine crumpled to the floor, coughing, gasping. "Then why come to me?"
The other woman knelt beside her. "Because you're remembering too. Which means you're breaking the code. Like I did. And if we don't get out now… they'll reset you. Like they tried to reset me."
Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Doors hissed open.
Security.
The other Seraphine was already on her feet. "You have two choices," she said, pulling a pulse blade from her belt. "Run with me. Or die their perfect puppet."
Seraphine hesitated for the briefest second.
Then grabbed the woman's hand.
They sprinted into the shadows.
***
They fled through the maintenance tunnels beneath the Citadel, avoiding scanners and passing broken droids like corpses in the dark. At one point, they slipped through an old resistance shaft carved during the Solar Riots.
Seraphine was panting, dirty, disoriented.
She had just fled her own palace with her double. And nothing in her system was warning her it was a mistake.
Finally, they stopped at a hidden hangar. An old stealth skimmer, matte-black and humming low, waited in the shadows.
The other Seraphine opened the door. "This will take us outside the orbital ring. We'll regroup on the Moon Bastion."
"The Moon Bastion was decommissioned years ago."
She grinned. "Only if you believe Empire reports."
Before they could board, Seraphine grabbed her by the arm. "What's your name?"
The woman's smirk faded. For the first time, her expression softened. "I stopped using it. They called me Version Nine."
"I'm not calling you that."
A pause.
"…Call me Sera."
Then Sera leaned in.
Their lips brushed—tentative. Familiar. Shocking.
It wasn't like what happened with Cael.
This felt like kissing herself—but more dangerous. More electric. Like touching fire.
They pulled apart just as the security sirens howled overhead.
Sera grinned. "We'll unpack that later. Strap in."
***
The skimmer sliced through the atmosphere, leaving the Empire behind.
Inside, Seraphine sat stiff in her seat, watching the planet curve beneath them.
"You said you remember everything," she finally said. "What do you mean by that?"
Sera didn't look away from the controls. "I mean, I remember being her. The real Seraphine X. Before they copied her mind. Before they edited her feelings. I remember the man she loved. The child she lost. The rebellion she almost joined."
Seraphine's mouth went dry. "There was no child."
"There was," Sera said. "And he didn't die in a skirmish like they claimed. He was taken. Used."
"For what?"
Sera met her eyes. "For us. The DNA they used in our creation isn't just hers. It's part his."
Seraphine gripped the edge of her seat. "You mean we're not just clones… we're her and him?"
Sera nodded. "You're not just a shadow. You're a new blueprint. A hybrid."
Seraphine's hands trembled. She remembered now—just a flicker. A lullaby in a soft voice. The scent of a fire-lit nursery.
A name whispered across her mind: Elior.
But before she could speak it aloud, the ship jolted violently.
"Something's locking onto us," Sera growled. "Stealth field compromised."
On the screen, a sleek Imperial Hunter cruiser appeared—deadly, silent, and unmistakably on a kill path.
"Do we have weapons?"
Sera's eyes glinted. "Better."
She flipped a switch, and the entire ship shimmered—then phased out of physical space.
"Quantum slip?" Seraphine gasped. "That's experimental!"
"Exactly."
But even the slip couldn't last. It ripped them through space like a thread through a needle—and spat them out near the moon's edge, just above the dark side where the Empire never looked.
The Moon Bastion emerged from the shadows—an old rebel hideout shaped like a crescent, hidden beneath lunar ice. Lights flickered on as their codes were accepted.
They landed in silence.
A group awaited them—men and women with ragged uniforms, modified tech, and one thing in common: eyes full of secrets.
Among them was a tall, caramel-skinned woman with half her face replaced by circuitry. She stepped forward.
"Sera," she said, then looked at Seraphine. "So this is the new one."
"This is Thirteen," Sera confirmed.
The woman smiled coldly. "Let's see if she survives longer than Twelve."
***
Later, alone in the chamber she was given, Seraphine stood beneath an artificial skylight that mimicked stars. The floor hummed with residual energy. Every surface told her she wasn't supposed to be here.
Yet she felt more awake than ever.
Her reflection stared back from a polished wall. But for the first time, it didn't look like someone else. It looked like her.
She touched her temple.
"VIANNE?"
No response.
They'd severed her neural tether when she escaped.
She was free.
Then came a knock. Sera.
She stepped in, silent, gaze intense.
"I remembered something else," Seraphine said. "A baby. A lullaby."
Sera nodded slowly. "That's how it begins. Little things. And then… it crashes."
They stood close again. Like magnets.
"I can feel it," Seraphine whispered. "The part of me that was never just code. The part they couldn't erase."
Sera leaned in, her voice velvet. "You're not a puppet. You're a weapon."
Then she kissed her again—this time with hunger, with intent.
They moved toward the bed, lips tangled, hands urgent. There was no gentleness in it. This was about claiming identity, about feeling alive. Their bodies fit with terrifying synchronicity—two broken reflections trying to find something real.
And just as Seraphine reached the edge of sensation—
A voice screamed in her mind.
Not VIANNE.
Something older.
Deeper.
"Protocol Override. Reclaim Subject Thirteen."
Her body seized. She arched, gasping, vision blurring.
Sera clutched her. "They've activated the kill code!"
Seraphine's scream shattered the silence as darkness swallowed her whole.