The chamber felt too small for two versions of the same soul.
Orion stood to one side, breathing shallowly, her heart still thudding from the moment the original opened her eyes. The original Orion -Orion-0, as the files called her—sat on the edge of the pod now, a blanket draped over her shoulders, bare feet dangling inches above the metal floor. She looked at the others in the room as if remembering dreams she'd forgotten how to have.
"Time runs differently in stasis," she murmured. Her voice was low, calm, and tired in a way that didn't come from sleep. "I saw pieces. Versions. Shadows of what I might have been. But I didn't expect you."
Orion swallowed. "I'm not a shadow."
"No," Orion-0 said, looking at her fully now. "You're brighter. Sharper. Cleaner. The parts of me that weren't burdened."
That should have felt like a compliment. It didn't. It felt like a scalpel.
Lucy was the first to speak from behind. "You said we had a choice. What choice?"
