HUMAN

A body.

Wrapped in thin plastic, its shape unmistakable.

They pushed it past Max and the scientists, disappearing into another room.

Nana's pulse quickened.

What is this place?

Her feet moved on their own, stalking the couple from a safe distance. When the hallway cleared, she spotted a staff ID card carelessly dangling from a hook.

Perfect.

Snatching it without hesitation, she slipped through the restricted door.

The air inside was colder, heavier.

Rows of covered bodies lined the walls, silent and still.

Her trembling hand reached for the nearest one.

Slowly, she peeled back the plastic cover.

Her breath hitched.

The face staring back was grotesque—skinless, organless, a hollow shell of what once was human. The muscles were exposed, glistening, the eyes dull and lifeless.

She stumbled back, choking on a gasp.

Footsteps.

Her head snapped toward the door.

Max.

He stepped into the room, his expression cold, eyes void of any emotion.

But Nana was already gone, disappearing into the shadows behind the storage shelves.

Max's gaze fell on the corpse. His face remained impassive.

"Burn it," he ordered flatly.

The workers silently moved in, preparing the body for disposal.

From behind the corner, Nana watched.

Max didn't even flinch.

Without a word, he turned and walked away, the echo of his footsteps fading into the distance.

Nana pressed herself against the wall, heart pounding.

What the hell are they doing here?

Continuation

Nana's breath came in shallow gasps as the workers dragged the body away. The sound of metal scraping against the floor sent a shiver down her spine.

She needed to move.

Staying hidden, she weaved between the storage shelves, her mind racing. What was this place? Why were there so many bodies? And why… why did Max look so unaffected?

Her fingers brushed against a row of labeled containers, the sharp scent of chemicals lingering in the air. With a trembling hand, she wiped the dust from one of the glass panels and squinted at the text.

"Specimen 113 – Status: Incomplete."

Her stomach twisted.

The next row had more names, more numbers. Some were marked terminated. Others were labeled defective.

Her fingers hovered over a final case.

"Specimen 001 – Claire E."

Nana's world tilted.

The plastic barrier reflected her face, but for a moment, she swore she saw another—so much like her, yet not her at all.

Claire.

The name echoed in her mind, distant and unfamiliar, yet sending chills down her spine.

She stumbled back, knocking over a tray of instruments. The sharp clang rang through the silence.

Footsteps.

Nana cursed under her breath, darting behind a stack of supply crates.

The door creaked open.

A voice—low, impatient. "Who's there?"

A scientist stepped inside, scanning the room. His grip tightened on the tablet in his hands as he stepped toward the storage cases.

Nana shrank deeper into the shadows, forcing herself to breathe quietly.

The scientist's fingers danced over a control panel, and with a beep, one of the glass compartments hissed open.

Claire's case.

Nana's body locked in place.

The scientist reached in, lifting a thin file. Pages rustled as he flipped through them, mumbling to himself. "Another failure. But 014 is stabilizing—at least for now."

Nana's hands curled into fists.

014.

She didn't need to guess. He was talking about her.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. She wanted to burst out, demand answers, scream at him. But she forced herself to wait, to watch.

The scientist sighed, snapping the file shut. "At this rate, we'll run out of viable subjects."

He turned toward the door, muttering, "I need to speak to Max."

As soon as he left, Nana bolted from her hiding place.

She yanked open the compartment, flipping through the documents.

Project Rebirth

Subject: Claire E.

Status: Deceased

Preserved Genetic Data: 87% Match

The words blurred.

She wasn't recovering lost memories.

She was living someone else's.

Nana staggered back, bile rising in her throat.

Her entire life—her entire existence—was a lie.

Nana's fingers tightened around the file, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

Deceased.

The word burned into her mind like a scar.

She wasn't Nana.

She was someone's failed experiment.

The air in the room felt heavier, suffocating. Her vision swayed between the cold text on the page and the lifeless body inside the case. Claire. The real Nana—if that had ever been her name—was long gone.

Nana staggered back, gripping the metal shelf for balance. A sharp pang tore through her chest, an ache deeper than anything she had ever felt before.

A lie.

Every memory. Every moment. The warmth of her childhood, the laughter, the pain—it all belonged to someone else.

And yet… she felt real.

Did that matter?

She pressed a trembling hand to her temple, willing herself to think.

Max.

The scientist had said he was stabilizing her. He knew. He had always known.

Her stomach twisted.

She thought back to the coldness in his eyes, the way he had given the order to burn it without hesitation. Had he been talking about her all along?

A wave of nausea hit her.

She couldn't stay here.

Her grip tightened around the file, the paper crinkling under her fingers. If she had any chance of understanding what she was, she needed more information.

Her head snapped up as voices echoed down the hall.

"Max wants a full scan on 014. If she's degrading, we can't afford to wait."

Nana's blood ran cold.

They were coming for her.

She didn't wait.

Shoving the file into her jacket, she turned and sprinted toward the emergency exit, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.

If Max was part of this—if he was the reason she existed—then she was done running.

She was going to find him.

And she was going to make him tell her the truth.

Nana's hand pressed against her chest, her pulse erratic, as the realization hit her like a freight train. She wasn't just a woman named Nana. She was… something else. Something created. Something that had been built into the very essence of her identity, but not from her own will. Not from her own choice.

Max's voice cut through her confusion, his words sharp like the sting of a needle. "You still don't understand, do you?" His gaze was unreadable, emotionless. "You were never meant to be Nana. You were meant to be her—to embody the perfect version of Claire, but with more… control. More precision. More adaptability."

Nana staggered backward, her breath caught in her throat. The floor beneath her seemed to spin.

"You're not real," she whispered, barely able to form the words. "I'm not real." Her hands shook, a cold sweat forming at her temple. "None of this is real."

Max's eyes glinted in something like pity. "Oh, it's real enough, Nana. You are real in your own way. But you were made to be something else. A second chance at a version of Claire. A being who could break free from her failures. You were never her. Never truly her."

Nana's mind swirled with the weight of those words, the very fabric of her existence beginning to unravel. She was someone's creation. A project. But who was the real Nana? Who was she, really?

Max stepped forward, his movements calculated, predatory. "I made you. Not out of necessity, but for a purpose—to unlock a new potential, to breed a better version of humanity."

Her chest tightened, the walls closing in. Was she just an experiment? A tool in his twisted game?

"I was someone before, wasn't I?" she asked through gritted teeth, barely able to hold her composure. "Was I Claire? Was I her?"

Max's eyes darkened with something that might have been regret—or was it amusement? "No. You were never Claire. But you were close enough. Close enough to make me think… you could do better."

Her whole body trembled, her breath shallow. She was shaking, trying to piece together a reality that was slipping through her fingers like sand.

"You don't get it, do you?" Max continued, a strange fondness creeping into his voice. "Your memories, your feelings, they were… fragments. Bits and pieces of Claire, edited to fit a better narrative. You were made to be the perfect subject. The perfect leader."

She felt sick. There had been no real Nana, no real life. She was a construct, a failed attempt to recreate something that couldn't be replicated. No, not just a failure—she was a manipulation.

Max seemed to relish the confusion in her eyes. "You're not just a copy, Nana. You're the future. The culmination of everything I've worked for."

Her knees buckled, and she fell to the floor. She wasn't Nana. She wasn't anyone.

But that didn't make sense. She felt real. She thought she was real. How could all of that just vanish? How could she be nothing?

Her mind was a storm, memories of a life she thought was hers dissolving into vapor. There was no clarity, no anchor. Just a hollow emptiness.

"You're not who you think you are, and I'm not sorry for it," Max said, stepping closer, his voice cold. "What matters is that you are capable. You are capable of creating a new world. A world without the past. Without those… flawed creatures that came before you."

"Flawed…?" Nana echoed, her voice shaky, her hands trembling as they gripped the floor beneath her.

"Yes. Humanity," Max said, the word laced with disgust. "The humanity you think you belong to is weak. It's why I did this—to build something stronger, something better."

Nana forced herself to stand, her legs shaky but determined. If she wasn't human, then what was she supposed to be? If she wasn't Nana, who was she supposed to become?

"I won't be your puppet," she said, though the words felt foreign in her mouth. She wasn't sure if she was convincing herself or him.

Max simply looked at her, as if waiting for her to come to a realization. "The question is, will you embrace what you are, Nana? Will you accept what you were created to become?"

She stared at him, the storm of confusion slowly starting to clear in her mind. She wasn't just the copy of someone else. She wasn't Claire, nor was she anyone else who came before.

She was herself. And she would decide what that meant.

Not him. Not anyone else.

Max wasn't going to decide who she was.

"I don't know who I am," Nana said, her voice steady now. "But I know one thing."

She took a step toward him, her eyes meeting his.

"I'm not going to let you control me anymore."

Max's expression darkened, his lips curling into a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You still don't understand, do you? You were made for this. You are the perfect vessel for my vision. Your struggle, your resistance—it's irrelevant. You will fall in line, just like the rest of them."

Nana clenched her fists at her sides, her jaw tightening. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her, the burning desire to not only escape but to take control of her own fate. No more would she be a puppet in Max's grand design.

"I don't know what you're talking about anymore," she said, her voice steady, but with an undercurrent of quiet fury. "You built me, yes. But you didn't build me. You built something that only looks like me. And that's what terrifies you."

Max tilted his head, as if considering her words. "Terrified? Don't flatter yourself. What's terrifying is your potential. You have the power to rewrite everything, to take what I've started and twist it into something completely unpredictable. You could undo all of my work in an instant, and you know it."

Her eyes narrowed as she took a step back, a cold realization creeping over her. The moment Max created her, he'd made a monumental mistake. He had underestimated her potential. He had built her to be a tool, but the tool had started to think for itself.

Max could no longer control her.

Nana took a breath, a surge of clarity washing over her. "You didn't just create me to be better than humanity. You created me to replace it. But you didn't account for one thing, Max."

"And what is that?" Max asked, voice dripping with disbelief.

"Your vision isn't mine. And it will never be," Nana replied, her voice growing stronger.

The tension in the air was thick, suffocating. Max's smile faded, replaced by a look of disdain. His eyes burned with the cold fury of someone who had invested everything in a dream, only to see it fall apart before their eyes.

"You think you have the power to defy me?" he sneered. "You're nothing. Just a failed experiment."

A shadow passed over Nana's face as she locked eyes with him, her stance unwavering. "Then why haven't you destroyed me yet?" she asked, the challenge in her voice clear.

Max's eyes flickered, just for a moment, with uncertainty.

The truth hit like a brick to the chest: He had no choice but to keep her alive. She wasn't a mistake he could simply erase. If she died, the entire structure of his plans would crumble. And he knew it.

"I'll give you one last chance," Max said, voice cold but tinged with something almost like desperation. "You can join me. Work with me. Together, we can build a world beyond humanity. A world of perfection."

Nana took a slow step forward, her gaze unyielding. "You've already lost. You've already lost control. And you're too blind to see it."

Max's hand shot out, grabbing her by the wrist with unnatural strength, pulling her toward him. His grip tightened, and for a moment, Nana felt the full weight of his power.

But this time, she didn't flinch. She didn't pull away. She stood her ground.

With a sudden movement, she shoved Max away, breaking his hold on her. "No," she said, her voice cutting through the tension. "You don't get to decide what's perfect. I do."

Max's face twisted in fury, and for the first time, Nana saw a crack in his carefully constructed façade.

"You think you can stop me?" he hissed. "I created you. I own you."

Nana's response was a soft, almost imperceptible smile, one that sent a shiver down Max's spine. "No, Max. You're the one who's owned. By your own creation. And by the lies you've built around yourself."

The weight of the words settled between them like a silent accusation.

Max's anger flared, but something deeper flickered in his eyes—a sense of defeat he couldn't hide.

Nana turned her back on him, her gaze focused on the doorway ahead. She didn't need to stay here anymore. She didn't need to prove anything to him.

Max's gaze never wavered from Nana as she stood before him, defiant. His lips twitched with a thin, cold smile that never reached his eyes. He was trying to maintain control, but Nana could feel the cracks in his confidence, the growing unease beneath his arrogance.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Max finally spoke, his voice low and mocking. "You think you can just walk away from this, that you can undo what I've built. You think you're different, that somehow, you won't become what I made you to be."

Nana's fists clenched at her sides. The words stung, but she wouldn't let him see it. She had been programmed to obey, yes—but she had also learned, adapted, and fought back. And now, it was his turn to face the consequences of his hubris.

Max took a step toward her, his eyes gleaming with an almost predatory satisfaction. "You want to show me what you've learned? How you're 'different'? How you can 'change the world'? Fine. Let's see if you're really prepared for the kind of power you claim to wield. You think you're ready to lead? You think you're ready to bring the world to its knees? Go ahead, try."

Nana stood frozen for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. It wasn't just about fighting back anymore. It wasn't about her—it was about the world, the future that Max had twisted beyond recognition. And if she really was the one to reshape it, then she had to understand exactly what it would cost.

Max smirked, seemingly expecting her to back down, to show fear. "You're nothing but a failed experiment. Just another tool, waiting to be discarded."

Nana looked up at him, eyes narrowing with a cold fire that reflected everything she had learned and fought for. Her voice was calm, but deadly. "If you really want the story to repeat, let's have a war then," she said, her tone steady and unwavering. "I'll show you how I once lived in your age."

Max's expression shifted from smug confidence to something closer to confusion, and then irritation. "You're delusional," he spat. "What do you know of war? What do you know of the destruction I've brought to the world? You're a product of this time—a mere shadow of what you were, nothing more."

Nana's gaze didn't falter, the fire in her eyes burning brighter. "I remember more than you think, Max. I remember the wars you waged. The civilizations you destroyed. The countless lives you sacrificed for your 'perfect' vision. And you—" She took a step closer to him, "—you think I'll let it happen again?"

Max's brow furrowed, a flash of discomfort crossing his face. But he quickly regained his composure. "You think you're in control of all this? You're just a tool, like the others. You think the people will follow you, that you can bring them together and undo everything I've done?" He sneered. "It's laughable."

Nana took another step forward, her voice hard as stone. "No, Max. What's laughable is you thinking you're the only one who has the power. You think you're the only one who can rewrite history? But you've forgotten something crucial." She closed the distance between them, her words coming out like a quiet storm. "I lived in your age. I saw how it ended. I know how it all went down. And I'll show you how it all ends again. But this time, it won't be you in charge."

Max's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint of disbelief flashing in them. "You don't have what it takes to stop me. You can't defeat me. You'll fall like all the others."

Nana's response was almost a whisper, but it cut through him with the precision of a blade. "We'll see, Max. We'll see."

With that, she turned, her steps steady and firm, leaving him standing there, watching as his vision—his carefully constructed world—began to unravel.