CHAPTER 179: CHAPTER 179: THE MIRROR THAT BLEEDS

The chamber shuddered with a faint hum, as though the cavern itself was alive. Pale blue lights flickered along the walls, casting skeletal shadows that stretched and twisted like specters. Lin stood at the center, gun drawn, every sense sharpened to a razor’s edge. Keller and Min-joon flanked him, both equally tense, their breathing shallow as their eyes locked on the figure before them.

The clone.

It was chained when they first saw it—iron cuffs bolted into the ground, thick cables running into its skin like veins of steel. But the restraints now hung slack, broken with ease.

The thing moved forward in jerks, its bare feet slapping against the cold stone floor. Its face... Lin’s face, but wrong. Pale, hollow-eyed, scars stretched across the skin as though carved by knives. Its lips trembled before peeling into something resembling a grin.

"...Lin..." it rasped, the sound like shards of glass in a blender. "...kill... me..."

Keller cursed under his breath, gun raised. "What the fuck is that thing?"

Lin’s throat tightened, but he forced control over his voice. "It’s me. Or at least... Jin’s attempt at me."

The clone’s head snapped sideways with an unnatural twitch. Its body shivered violently, then stilled. Slowly, it raised its hands, curling fingers into claws. The grin widened, exposing cracked, jagged teeth.

Min-joon staggered back, hand clutching the wall. His face was pale, and he whispered, "It’s not human... it’s not you, Lin. It’s—"

"Don’t look at it like that," Lin cut him off, harsh but steady. His eyes never left the abomination. "It wants us afraid. Don’t give it that."

But his words couldn’t erase what pressed inside his chest—the weight of seeing his own eyes staring back at him, empty, soulless, hungering.

The clone lunged.

It was impossibly fast.

Lin barely twisted aside as claws slashed the air where his chest had been. Stone cracked behind him, deep gouges carved into the floor. Keller fired twice, bullets slamming into the clone’s torso. It jerked back, but instead of collapsing, it straightened—flesh rippling, wounds already knitting together.

"Regeneration!" Keller shouted. "This thing heals like a damn monster!"

The clone’s head snapped toward him. In the next instant, it blurred forward, closing the distance with a predator’s focus.

"Down!" Lin roared.

Keller dove aside just as the clone’s fist smashed into the wall, sending stone fragments spraying. Its strength was inhuman.

Lin fired, his bullets slamming into its skull, snapping its head back. The creature staggered, but then... it began to move again. Its motions smoother now. Smarter.

It was learning.

Lin’s gut tightened. "It’s adapting..." he muttered.

The clone turned back to him, tilting its head in eerie mimicry. Then it spoke again—this time, not just broken rasping, but fragments of words. Words Lin recognized.

"...Don’t... give it... fear..."

The same thing Lin had told Min-joon seconds earlier.

Lin froze, a chill running down his spine.

Keller spat. "It’s copying you."

The clone lunged again, this time straight for Lin. He met it head-on, sidestepping its swipe and jamming the barrel of his pistol under its chin. He fired point-blank—once, twice, three times. Bone cracked, blood sprayed. The clone collapsed backward—then pushed itself up again, jerking like a puppet on broken strings.

Its face was mangled, jaw unhinged, but it smiled wider, whispering, "Lin... fight... Lin..."

Min-joon screamed. He stumbled, covering his ears. "It’s in my head—it’s talking in my head!"

The clone’s voice overlapped with Jin’s in the chamber, distorted echoes whispering through the walls.

Keller swung his rifle toward it. "Lin, say the word and I’ll fucking unload every round I’ve got!"

"No!" Lin barked. His own voice shook, not with fear but with something heavier—anger. "If it learns from me, if it’s me... then I have to end this myself."

The clone came at him again, claws slashing, movements sharper this time. Lin ducked under one strike, countered with a knife slash across its ribs. The blade dug deep, black-red blood spilling, but the creature only growled, shoving him back with brute force.

Lin hit the ground hard, air knocked from his lungs. The clone pounced, claw raised—only to be intercepted by Keller, who slammed into it from the side.

The two men tumbled across the ground. The clone roared, seizing Keller by the throat, lifting him off the floor like he weighed nothing. Keller gasped, struggling, face turning red.

Lin forced himself up, knife still in hand. He lunged, burying the blade into the clone’s side. "Let him go!"

The creature hissed, snapping its head toward him. Its eyes flickered—not empty, not fully Jin’s creation, but something worse: a mirror of his own rage.

It threw Keller aside like a ragdoll.

Lin and the clone circled each other, both breathing hard. The chamber vibrated with tension, the only sound their footsteps echoing on stone.

For the first time, Lin spoke directly to it.

"What are you?"

The clone’s mouth twitched. "...Lin."

"No. You’re not me."

"...me."

"Not me," Lin snapped, voice rising. "You’re nothing but Jin’s experiment. A shadow. You don’t get to carry my name."

The clone’s head tilted, as though considering his words. Then, in a voice deeper, more distorted, but eerily confident, it echoed back:

"Not... me."

Lin’s blood ran cold.

Then it attacked.

The fight blurred into instinct—knife clashing against claw, gunshots ringing, Keller firing cover shots that barely slowed the monster. Min-joon’s shouts echoed distantly, fear-strangled.

Every strike Lin made, the clone adjusted. Every dodge, it countered faster. It wasn’t just mimicking—it was becoming him.

Finally, Lin managed to slam the clone against the wall, knife at its throat. His muscles strained, his breath ragged. He could kill it. End this.

But then... the creature’s eyes softened. For a split second, they weren’t soulless—they were his eyes, his younger self staring back at him.

"...Brother..." it whispered.

Lin froze. His grip faltered.

That hesitation was all it needed. The clone surged upward, claws raking across his arm, tearing flesh. Lin cried out, staggering back.

The creature loomed over him now, growling, ready to finish it.

Keller shouted his name, raising his rifle.

Lin’s mind raced. To kill it meant killing a twisted reflection of himself. But to hesitate again meant death—for him, for Keller, for Min-joon.

The clone lunged—

And Lin made his choice.