Promise of a Pandemic.

The compound ahead was formerly a fortress but now a terrorist stronghold. From the distance that separated him from it, it was a blot of darkness against the sandy armed men patrolling the walls, their moonlit silhouettes barely visible even with his enhanced vision.

Clone Chambers ignored the chattering in his head as the two Ms, both his and the original, bickered about some high science theory that went over his head.

He wondered if the previous Clone Chambers had had to suffer this before he expired. He sighed and just blocked off their noise.

Looking at the watch on his hand, he saw that he had twelve hours. Twelve hours until he's synced back into his original self instead of being a split identity.

Well, best hurry then, he thought.

Looking at the compound ahead, he assured himself that this was going to be their final night. At least, if all went well.