The forest trembled.
Not from wind, but from thought.
Alexis gritted her teeth.
> "We're not memories.
We're not clones."
The teacher tilted her head.
> "Then pass the test."
Suddenly—
a hundred Amelias surrounded them.
Each one different.
Some younger.
Some monstrous.
Some crying.
Some grinning.
> "Choose the original," the teacher said.
"Only one gets to leave."
Amelia froze.
Because none of them looked fake.
None looked more real than the others.
They all carried pain.
They all remembered.
But Alexis stepped forward, pointing—
not at any of the clones—
but at Amelia beside her.
> "She's the one who made me doubt.
She's the one who didn't just repeat.
She's mine."
The spiral flared—
and the others withered like leaves.