I reached for the pen.
The moment my fingers closed around it, I felt them react.
Sharp.
Tense.
Afraid.
“…Come out,” I whispered.
The pen dissolved soundlessly.
The air beside my bed rippled.
Then they appeared.
Clone No.
1 arrived first.
The moment she saw me, she stepped forward immediately.
She didn’t keep her distance.
Her eyes searched my face, checking for injuries that weren’t there.
“Mizuki,” she said quickly.
“Are you okay?
Can you breathe properly?”
Before I could answer, Clone No.
2 appeared beside her.
Her hands were clenched tightly at her sides.
Her gaze moved over me rapidly—my hands, my shoulders, my legs—as though she expected to find something broken.
“You collapsed,” she said immediately, her voice trembling.
“You scared us.”
“I’m here,” I said softly.
I forced a small smile.
“I’m fine now.”
Neither of them believed me.
Not immediately.
Clone No.
1 released a shaky breath.
“You weren’t moving at all.”
Clone No.
2 swallowed hard.
“We kept calling you,” she whispered.
“You didn’t respond.”
Their eyes dropped toward the floor.
I followed their gaze.
Clone No.
4 lay beside the bed.
Her body was completely still.
Dark hair spread across the floor.
Above her, the faint number 4 hovered quietly in the air.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
“That’s how we found her,” Clone No.
1 said quietly.
Her voice was unsteady.
“Right after you came back.”
“We didn’t know what to do first,” Clone No.
2 added.
“You…
or her.”
My chest tightened.
I immediately knelt beside Clone No.
4.
“She shouldn’t be on the floor.”
The words left my mouth before I even thought about them.
Clone No.
1 moved instantly.
She carefully lifted Clone No.
4’s legs.
Clone No.
2 rushed ahead, pulling the blanket back and clearing space on the bed.
Their movements were hurried.
Not careless.
Desperate.
Like they were afraid that if they wasted even a second, something else would be taken away from them.
Together, we lifted Clone No.
4 onto the bed.
Gently.
Carefully.
I adjusted the pillow beneath her head.
Clone No.
2 pulled the blanket up around her shoulders.
Only then did we step back.
Even then, Clone No.
1 stayed close to me.
As if she wanted to make sure I wouldn’t suddenly disappear.
“She hasn’t woken up,” Clone No.
2 said quietly.
“And we were afraid she wouldn’t.”
Clone No.
1 looked at me.
“But we were more afraid about you.”
I looked up.
“You lost consciousness,” she continued.
“The current increased, and then you just…”
Her voice faltered.
“You stopped.”
Clone No.
2 lowered her head.
“We thought the return failed.”
She swallowed.
“Or that it wouldn’t activate in time.”
My chest tightened.
The memory of the net returned instantly.
The pain.
The electricity.
The android.
Noa’s gun.
“You didn’t die,” Clone No.
1 said quietly.
“That’s what scared us.”
Clone No.
2 nodded.
“The return activated anyway.”
Her eyes drifted toward Clone No.
4.
“Four days earlier.”
“On its own.”
I looked at the sleeping figure on the bed.
“So she carries everything up to that moment,” I said.
“Yes,” Clone No.
1 replied.
“And we carry everything after.”
“The android,” Clone No.
2 added quickly.
“The net.”
“Your gun being taken.”
Her voice cracked.
“And Noa’s gun.”
Silence filled the room.
That silence hurt more than the electricity ever had.
Clone No.
1 stepped closer and lowered her voice.
“You can’t let it push you that far again.”
Clone No.
2 nodded urgently.
“We can’t watch you collapse like that again.”
Their fear wasn’t distant.
It wasn’t logical.
It wasn’t theoretical.
It was real.
The kind of fear people felt when they almost lost someone important.
For a moment, I couldn’t answer.
Then I looked at both of them.
At the worry in their eyes.
At how hard they were trying to stay strong.
“I won’t,” I said quietly.
The words weren’t a promise.
Not yet.
But I meant them.
Neither of them relaxed completely.
Yet both of them nodded.
Because they wanted to believe me.
Behind us, Clone No.
4 slept peacefully.
Four days earlier.
A forced return.
An emergency reset.
A warning.
And this time, I wasn’t just fighting fate.
I had people who were afraid to lose me.
And somehow…
that changed everything.
A few minutes passed in silence.
The room remained quiet except for the steady sound of breathing.
Then—
Clone No.
4 moved.
It was small at first.
A slight twitch of her fingers against the blanket.
Then another.
Her breathing changed.
Uneven for a moment before slowly becoming steady again.
“She’s waking up,” I said softly.
Clone No.
1 was beside the bed instantly.
Clone No.
2 moved closer as well, hands clenched tightly in front of her.
Neither of them looked away.
Clone No.
4’s eyes fluttered open.
At first, they were unfocused.
Confused.
She stared at the ceiling as though she didn’t recognize where she was.
“…Where…?” she whispered.
Her voice was weak.
Distant.
Slowly, her gaze shifted.
Across the room.
Toward me.
The moment her eyes met mine, something changed.
Then her gaze moved higher.
To the space above my head.
Her breath caught.
Above me, faint but unmistakable, hovered a number.
0
Her pupils shrank.
“…Zero.”
The word barely escaped her lips.
It trembled.
Not from fear.
From understanding.
For a moment, she simply stared.
Silent.
Motionless.
Then everything clicked into place.
“…So that’s it,” she whispered.
“You didn’t reset.”
My chest tightened.
“You stayed.”
Her voice was barely audible.
“And I…”
She looked away for a second.
Only a second.
When she looked back, her eyes were clearer.
Sharper.
More awake.
“I’m the fourth.”
No one corrected her.
No one needed to.
She already knew.
The number above her own head had told her everything.
Clone No.
4 swallowed hard.
“I remember collapsing,” she said quietly.
“The current getting stronger.”
Her expression darkened.
“The android standing over us.”
Clone No.
2 lowered her gaze.
“You lost consciousness right after that.”
Clone No.
4 nodded faintly.
“And you didn’t die.”
Her eyes returned to the number above my head.
0
“That’s why it pulled us back early.”
Her voice became thoughtful.
Careful.
“Emergency return.”
Clone No.
1 slowly released a breath.
A breath that felt like she’d been holding ever since the attack.
“Yes.”
Clone No.
4 closed her eyes briefly.
The room remained silent.
When she opened them again, fear was there.
Not fear for herself.
Fear for someone else.
“…It had Noa’s gun.”
The words hit the room like a stone dropped into still water.
My heart tightened immediately.
She remembered.
Not the pain.
Not the electricity.
Not the fear of becoming a clone.
The thing she remembered most was Noa.
The same thing I remembered.
Clone No.
4 slowly turned her head, looking at all of us.
“So the timeline didn’t forgive us.”
Her voice was quiet.
“It warned us.”
No one answered.
Because no one disagreed.
I stepped closer to the bed.
“That’s why we’re here together,” I said.
“And that’s why we won’t waste this warning.”
Clone No.
4 looked at me for several seconds.
Then her fingers curled around the blanket.
“…Good.”
The word came out softly.
Almost relieved.
Then she looked away and added,
“Because next time…”
Her voice faltered.
Just slightly.
“I don’t want to wake up as a number.”
Silence followed.
A heavy silence.
Not uncomfortable.
Not awkward.
Just honest.
Because every one of us understood exactly what she meant.
The numbers weren’t names.
They weren’t titles.
They were proof.
Proof that we had died.
Proof that something was slowly changing.
Proof that each return left something behind.
Four versions of me.
One room.
One warning.
And one truth none of us could ignore anymore.
This wasn’t a second chance.
It wasn’t luck.
It wasn’t fate being kind.
It was a warning.
The last warning.
And deep down, every one of us knew it.
I turned toward the clock again.
Not because I cared about the time.
Because I cared about the date.
And the day written beneath it.
My breathing slowed.
“…It’s Sunday,” I said quietly.
Clone No.
1 looked up immediately.
“No school.”
Clone No.
2 nodded as understanding settled over her face.
“Which means Noa is at home.”
I stared at the date for a few moments longer.
Four days earlier.
Four days before the android appeared.
Four days before it stepped into my room.
Four days before it revealed that it already knew about Noa.
A second chance.
No.
A warning.
And warnings only mattered if you acted on them.
“This is our chance,” I said.
Both of them turned toward me.
Waiting.
Listening.
“If we sit here and wait,” I continued, “we’ll walk into the same future again.”
The words felt cold.
Certain.
“I don’t want to keep reacting.”
Silence followed.
Then I looked at Clone No.
4.
She was sitting upright now, quieter than before, but fully awake.
Listening to every word.
“We move first.”
The room fell silent again.
Not because anyone disagreed.
Because all of us had reached the same conclusion.
The android had already taken the first step.
Now it was our turn.
I reached for the pen.
“Let’s do it once,” I said softly.
“All of you.”
None of them hesitated.
Clone No.
1 stepped forward first.
Determined.
Steady.
Clone No.
2 followed immediately after.
Still worried.
Still protective.
But ready.
Clone No.
4 stood from the bed.
A little slower than the others.
A little quieter.
Yet her eyes were clear.
Resolved.
The air around us shifted.
Their bodies began to dissolve.
Not violently.
Not painfully.
Smoothly.
Like outlines being erased and redrawn into something whole.
Light folded inward.
Three separate presences compressing into one.
I closed my eyes and held steady.
The familiar feeling returned.
Warm.
Heavy.
Complete.
When I opened my eyes again—
The gun rested in my hands.
Different from before.
Heavier.
Full.
Complete.
All of them were there.
We’re ready, one voice said.
I nodded.
Without wasting another second, I converted it back.
The metal folded inward.
Edges softened.
Weight disappeared.
A pen rested in my hand once more.
Ordinary.
Harmless.
Easy to overlook.
I slipped it into my pocket and grabbed my bag.
The house was quiet as I stepped outside.
Morning sunlight filled the street.
Soft.
Ordinary.
Neighbors went about their routines.
Cars passed by.
Someone watered their garden.
Someone else walked a dog.
Nobody knew the world had already ended once.
Nobody knew it had been given another chance.
I walked quickly.
Not running.
Not rushing.
Focused.
Every step carried purpose.
As I made my way toward Noa’s house, my thoughts refused to settle.
Why did the android know about her?
When did it reach her first?
How did it take the gun?
Did giving it to her make her a target?
Or had she already been one from the beginning?
Too many questions.
Not enough answers.
But one thing was clear.
If something was going to happen again—
It wouldn’t happen without me being there.
Eventually, I stopped a short distance from her street.
Her house stood exactly where it always had.
Quiet.
Ordinary.
Safe.
For now.
I took a slow breath.
The morning air felt cool against my skin.
“…Okay,” I whispered.
“What happens next…”
My gaze remained fixed on her house.
“…we face it together.”
Inside my pocket, the pen remained still.
Silent.
Waiting.
And somewhere within it—
Three voices watched the same house I did.
Alert.
Ready.
Waiting for the future to make its next move.
And this time—
We intended to meet it first.
Hello everyone!
Your support motivates me to continue writing and improving this story.
Chapter 22 focuses on the aftermath of the previous chapter and the impact of the emergency return.
For the first time, the clones are forced to face a difficult truth.
Every return leaves something behind, and the numbers above them are becoming impossible to ignore.
0, 1, 2, and 4.
One number is missing.
One piece of the puzzle remains unanswered.
And the future is becoming harder to predict.
This chapter also marks an important change for Mizuki.
Instead of reacting to fate, she has finally decided to take action before the next disaster arrives.
Every bit of support helps the story grow.
I’d love to hear your theories about the android, the missing number, and what might happen next.
See you in the next chapter!