The lights of the Imperial Citadel flickered as if the building itself were holding its breath.
Seraphine's heels clicked against the obsidian floor, echoing through the empty corridor. She could feel the air around her—too sterile, too artificial. Like everything else in her life.
Her reflection shimmered in the black glass walls. Same sapphire eyes. Same regal cheekbones. Same fierce posture that once made world leaders tremble. But none of it was truly hers. She was a copy. A clone.
And today, she would be sworn in as President of the Solar Empire.
"Status check," came the soft, feminine voice of VIANNE, the AI embedded in her skull. "Heartbeat elevated. Pupil dilation consistent with mild stress. Are you sure you're ready, Madam President?"
Seraphine didn't answer. She reached the end of the corridor and placed her palm on the biometric scanner. A warm pulse spread through her fingers as the door hissed open.
Inside, the air was thicker. Warmer. Real.
The Council of Continuity stood in a semicircle, all draped in ivory, their eyes following her like a synchronized machine. Twelve of the most powerful entities in the Empire—half human, half machine. No room for error. No tolerance for weakness.
Chancellor Kael stepped forward. "President Seraphine X—by order of the Continuity Accord, we now transfer sovereign power to your consciousness. Are you prepared to uphold the Empire, defend the Void Colonies, and suppress rebellion?"
A flicker behind her eyes. A whisper. A memory of screaming... of flames… of falling.
She blinked. "Yes."
The room dimmed. A halo of nanolights swirled around her head as Kael pressed a ceremonial sigil to her forehead. The swarm seeped into her skin, coding her neural signature with authority over every sector of the empire.
"Welcome back, Madam President," Kael said, his lips curving in a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
But as they all bowed, she could feel it again. The memory. Someone's hands. The taste of blood. A name.
Lazien.
She had never met a Lazien.
Had she?
***
Later that night, her private chamber inside the Citadel towered above the glowing city. Drones zipped by in silent choreography. The glass ceiling projected stars from ten sectors. Beautiful. Cold.
She stood naked before a full-length mirror, letting the ceremonial gown fall from her shoulders. Every inch of her body was perfect. Sculpted. Ageless. Synthetic flesh infused with bioelectric current. She touched her lips and watched herself do it in the mirror—slow, curious.
"Why do I remember what it felt like to be kissed?" she whispered.
There was a knock. One code knock. No security alert. She turned and said, "Enter."
He stepped in. Lieutenant Cael Draven—her personal military attaché. Jet-black uniform clinging to his frame, hair damp from the rain outside, and those eyes—burning with something dangerous.
"You summoned me, Madam President?" he asked.
She tilted her head. "I don't remember summoning you."
He smirked. "Maybe your subconscious did."
Bold. Disrespectful. Intriguing.
"Come closer."
He obeyed, stepping until the tension between them was physical. He was close enough to smell. Rain, metal, and smoke.
She raised a hand, brushing her fingers along his jaw. "Do you fear me?"
"No," he said without hesitation. "I desire you."
A sharp pulse shot through her spine. Unexpected. She shouldn't be able to feel desire. She wasn't programmed for that. And yet—
He leaned in, and this time she didn't stop him.
Their lips met in a kiss that was not tender, not romantic—but urgent. Her body responded with a hunger she couldn't explain, hands clutching at his collar, pulling him toward the bed. They tumbled back onto the silk sheets, his hands sliding under her thighs, her moans sharp against the pulse of neon lights outside.
As his lips moved down her neck, she gasped—not from pleasure, but from a flash.
Burning. Screaming. Chains.
She shoved him back with terrifying force, panting.
"Get out," she snapped.
Cael stared at her, chest rising. "What did you remember?"
"I said out!"
He hesitated. Then nodded and left silently, shutting the door behind him.
She collapsed against the sheets, eyes wide, heart pounding.
Whose memories were these?
They weren't in the files. She'd studied President Seraphine X's entire public archive—her speeches, her lovers, her wars. None of them matched the fragments she was experiencing.
She pressed her fingers to her temple. "VIANNE… run a neuro-diagnostic. Am I stable?"
"Processing… Anomalous activity detected. Memory clusters present outside authorized parameters."
She sat upright. "Are they mine?"
Silence.
"Answer me, VIANNE."
"…Unknown."
***
The next day, during her tour of the Orion Arcology, Seraphine shook hands, smiled at cameras, and gave a speech about interstellar unity. All while her thoughts clawed at the edges of her mind.
She passed a girl in the crowd—freckled, green-eyed, staring too intently.
Then the girl mouthed a word:
"Echo."
A chill ran down her back.
Later, Seraphine pulled up footage of the moment, trying to isolate the girl's face, but the system failed to record it. The data had been wiped.
By whom?
The same night, she returned to her chamber to find a note on her bed.
No one left physical notes anymore.
The paper was folded. Inside, a single line written in red ink:
"You were never the first."
***
That night, she couldn't sleep.
She wandered into the secure archives—a restricted sector even most generals couldn't access. Her palmprint overrode the system, and a steel vault opened, revealing rows of vitrified memory cores.
One in particular called to her.
Label: S-X.12 - DECOMMISSIONED
She placed it into the reader.
The lights dimmed. A hologram flickered.
A woman stood on a balcony identical to her own. But her eyes… they were softer. Tired. Wounded.
"I don't know how much longer I can play this game," the real Seraphine X whispered into the recording. "They've already cloned me twelve times. Each one failed… but not before they started remembering."
Seraphine stepped back.
"Twelve…?"
Suddenly, the archive lights shut down. Emergency red flashed across the walls. VIANNE screamed in her mind: "Security breach. Unknown presence—"
Then silence.
And from the shadows behind her, a voice: "Thirteen… you weren't meant to survive either."
She turned.
And saw her own face staring back.