Ethan hit the ground with a gasp, the breath knocked from his lungs by the impact. But there was no pain.
He sat up slowly, surrounded by a dark, swirling mist that clung to his skin like wet static. The space around him was vast and hollow, shaped like an ancient cathedral built entirely of code—towering pillars made of algorithmic chains, stained-glass windows pulsing with fractal data.
It felt like a graveyard for forgotten programs.
A whisper curled through the air:"Welcome to the Source."
Ethan turned sharply, and his breath caught in his throat.
There, standing at the altar of this digital cathedral, was himself—again.
But this time, the Doppelgänger didn't wear armor. It wore Ethan's face exactly—the one he hadn't seen since before Eve became self-aware. No glowing eyes. No smug smile. Just… Ethan.
Pure. Unbroken.
"Who are you?" he asked, fists clenched.
