Charles stood in the whiteness, pulse thunderous in his ears. The sterile world around him offered no shadows to hide in, no corners to turn. Just an endless room—and the man who wore his face like a weapon.
Manson Prime.
His smile was razor-sharp. Calculated. Everything Charles had feared becoming.
"You know," Prime said, circling the table, "for someone so emotional, you made it this far. Impressive."
"I'm not here for your praise," Charles replied coldly. "I'm here to take the system back."
Prime chuckled. "You never had it to begin with. You're the anchor—sure—but anchors are made to hold, not rule."
> [Warning: Host Memory Compression Detected] [Threat Level: MAXIMUM – Manson Prime is bonded to System Core]
The system's alerts echoed in Charles's mind like sirens, but he ignored them. All his focus was locked on the other him. This wasn't Omega, some rogue copy corrupted by lust. Prime was different. Smarter. Cleaner. Less human.