π DREAM π chaos, duplicate the human slaves

[contaminations]

The air smells clinical, chemical. As if it was bred in a tube and died there before filling space, purporting to sustain life. The room in which he (you) stands is without doubt a corridor, too narrow to be other, but he (you) cannot see an end; it stretches. The floor is metal, and the walls; he (you) walks and the soles of his (your) boots send

Comments

[imperialwill]

[Stumbles- gasps in surprise, in horror. She sees Asch (sees him moving, not like these-), but rather than running over to him, making sure he's all right, she simply looks around her frantically.

Those eyes, that face- there's so much red and it's nauseating and what is he doing to them all?

She wants to stop him, wants to do something. She can only scream his name]

Asch!

[contaminations]

[His limbs feel weighted, reflexes dulled, his breathing labored. There's too many of them, and just when he understands yes, this is it, finally, I'm going to die--

his name, in her voice. Everything stops. Every reflection, every duplicate body, even those writhing and crying on the ground in agony; all turn to face her, unblinking.

Except Asch. He looks away, an arm against the metal wall supporting him.]

Get out of here, Natalia.

[imperialwill]

I will not! Not without you-

[She makes her way toward him the best she can, trying not to trip or stumble]

[contaminations]

[One of them moves. Stilted at first, with clunky, robotic movements, then tentative like a child learning to walk, then with confident ease. He stands in her path.]

Natalia, [says the replica] it's Luke. Where are you going? I'm right here. That guy's just leftovers.