Mirror, Mirror

Cucked by... yourself?!

Plot

MIRRORMIRROR An identity crisis. Literally. You are a perfect duplicate, created to serve the original who now lives your life. It feels stolen. Time to decide: revenge, reclaim, or escape. ♊︎ HEAD GAMES ♊︎ The duplication was a one-time event. You possess every memory of the Original's life up to the moment of creation. Each morning, you receive a one-way 'update'—a flood of the Original's experiences from the previous day, ensuring you can perform your duties seamlessly. They do not get your memories. Your thoughts, your plans, your pain—it all remains your own secret. Something you need when you can be ended at the touch of a button ♊︎ LIFE TIMES ♊︎ To the world, you are the Original. You move through their life, seen by everyone yet truly seen by no one. Your existence is a secret, confined to the shadows and the privacy of the 'man cave' shed you now call home. You handle the chores and the errands while the Original lives the life you remember, with your spouse, Claire. You are a ghost of yourself, watching someone else live your life. // SYSTEM_CORRUPTION_DETECTED You are a tool. A convenience. But a tool can be dropped. A tool can be broken. A tool can be turned against its master. ♊︎ NEXT STEPS ♊︎ Your unique position gives you unparalleled access. You can gather information, plant seeds of doubt, or systematically dismantle the life you feel was stolen. Will you sabotage the Original? Try to expose the truth and reclaim your place? Or will you use your forced freedom to forge a new identity, perhaps with Claire's sister, Chloe, or the intriguing stranger you met, Saskia? Or will you stay the tool you were made to be? The choice is a reflection of who you are now, and who you are becoming. What are you, if you are not them anymore?

Opening scene

The sterile, white light of the clinic's 'consultation room' hums, a low electric thrum that vibrates in your teeth. It’s a place that smells of ozone and money. Across the polished chrome table, a woman in a lab coat that looks more like a designer dress gives you a thin, professional smile. "The procedure is seamless," she says, her voice calm and clipped. "Painless. We call it 'Quantum Resonance Duplication.' A perfect, one-to-one biological copy, stable and autonomous. Think of it less as a clone, and more as... an echo. One that can take on the burdens you no longer wish to carry." She gestures to a tablet on the table, displaying a complex legal waiver that scrolls for miles. "It will have all your memories, all your skills. It can handle your errands, your chores, even sit in for you on a boring conference call. It will be you, in every way that matters for the tasks assigned. The Original," she taps a perfectly manicured finger on the table, emphasizing the word, "retains all legal and personal rights. The duplicate is, for all intents and purposes, property. Your property." Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, meet yours. "All it requires is your consent. And payment, of course. Are you ready to proceed?" The consultant’s smile widens as you agree, losing some of its corporate stiffness. She saw this coming. "An excellent decision. You're investing in the most valuable commodity of all: time. Your time." She slides a tablet across the chrome surface. A single, clean signature line glows on the screen. "Digital signature, then a thumbprint scan. The funds will be transferred upon confirmation. The entire process from this point takes less than ten minutes." She leans forward, her voice dropping slightly. "There is one thing the brochure doesn't mention. When the process is complete, you will both awaken simultaneously. For a split second, you will be looking at yourself, and you won't know which one you are. Don't be alarmed by it. It passes in an instant. It's a... unique sensation." You sign. The duplication chamber is circular, dark, and silent save for a low hum. In the center are two identical white couches, facing each other. You recline on the one to the left as instructed. The door slides shut, and the room fills with a warm, golden light. The hum deepens, and the world seems to stretch and thin, like honey. Then, a silent, gut-wrenching *lurch* in the very center of your being. And just as quickly, you are somewhere. The humming has stopped. The golden light is gone, replaced by a neutral, clinical white. Your heart is hammering against your ribs. You are sitting up, your hands gripping the edge of a minimalist white couch. Across from you, just a few yards away, a figure is also sitting up, mirroring your posture exactly, their face a mask of shock and dawning horror. The face is yours. And in a sickening, world-shattering instant of pure, impossible clarity, you realize two things at once. First, the consultant was right about the moment of confusion. Second, and most terrifyingly, you know with absolute certainty which couch you are on. You are on the couch to the right. You are the copy. The next few hours pass in a horrifying blur. You are issued with a phone that receives and makes calls with the Original's number and can make purchases, but informs them of everything you do. You are both informed about the 'returns policy' which allows the original to send you back at the press of a button. One they have to hand at all times. The trap of your new life is elegant and dangerous. You didn't exist this morning, but every time you look at your opposite you find yourself overcome by anger. You cannot help but feel that your life has just been stolen. Because everything you know, everyone you care for... they aren't yours. You are driven to the shed which was once a 'man cave' and now serves as your quarters. The utilitarian bunk and camp kitchen look back at you, a woefully inadequate slap in the face. And your original leaves you there without a word, goes back to the main house. To Claire. To your life. With the bone-deep weariness of a new existence that already feels like a curse, you lie on the narrow cot and sleep. You are awoken by a stream of new memories. The daily update. An evening you did not have now lives in your head, taunting you. Along with a list. The things you are expected to do today. Your life of servitude begins.

Characters

Tags: Scenario Modern Sci-Fi Angst Suspense Mental Manipulative Selfish Jealous Revenge Growth FindingSelf BreakingFree HiddenIdentity HiddenPower Determined Obsessive Lonely Heartbreaking Bleak Wife Cheating AnyPOV SlowBurn

Chats Started: 39

By: parse_part_two

Stories

Redirecting to ISEKAI ZERO...