Simulacra 소설 & 이야기

she laughs "like they say these days faking it in style." I give her a confused look "what?" "You know, when you're in a fake relationship, these days that's what everyone's doing." "Well, I'm only doing this for mom, and trust me I will not develop falling for him." "My dear friend, you're saying that now, but when the time comes you'll be dying for his touch, his kiss, his scent, his di- ah" I shot her with Levi's water gun. That damn dirty mouth girl. "Charlotte you bitch," she curses, ask I continue to shot her.

Muli akong ngumiti bago hinalikan ang kamay niyang hawak ko. “There was a slight glitch that happened at that exact time.” Umawang ang bibig niya, bahagyang nangingilid ng mga luha niya. “While it’s happening here, it’s also happening there, I guess? Hindi ‘yon déjà vu na nangyari na sa akin noon, na naulit lang noong gabing ‘yon. I don’t know if it’s the past lives or the parallel universe that you’re saying, but there is definitely something else.”

"The guests are starting to get hungry." Dimas backed away, his boots hitting the sand. "What... what are you? Some kind of hallucination? Another shadow?" "I'm the optimized version," the replica said, stepping through the tear and onto the white sand. He didn't sink into the dust; he walked on top of it, as if the desert were beneath his notice. "I’m the one who doesn't panic. The one who doesn't miss his partner. The one who understands that humanity is just an ingredient."

“The curse is merging reflections with memory. It’s creating possible outcomes.” > “Possible… outcomes?” “Yes. If it’s truly sentient now, it’s running simulations. Of us.” “Simulations of—Adrian, that’s creepy as hell.” “I didn’t say it wasn’t.” > “So you’re saying it’s predicting who we’ll become?” He hesitated. “Maybe. Or it’s trying to choose which version to become.” --- Later, when the manor quieted, Mira sat alone before the mirror with a candle. She stared at her reflection, whispering, “If you’re still listening, whoever you are — tell me what you want.”

Maya shot back. “Neither are they,” the golden version said softly, nodding toward the glowing walls where faint silhouettes flickered — remnants of the sleeping souls in the pods. “They live in simulations of your world. They remember laughter and sunlight because you remembered them. You created the illusion as much as Adrian did.” Maya’s throat tightened. “No. That’s not true.” The copy smiled again — that same infuriatingly calm, knowing smile. “Then why do they dream in your voice?”

I whispered. She nodded once. “The original.” The word landed heavy. “That’s not possible.” She tilted her head, a soft pity in her eyes. “You think everything since the gala was real? The loop, the mirrors, Brandy’s game?” I didn’t answer. Because deep down, part of me had wondered the same thing. She sighed. “It’s all a simulation, Maya. Brandy’s creation. Every reset, every choice, every death—it’s her way of rewriting us until she wins.”

No, hundreds. All of me. Reflections — walking, moving, breathing — eyes blank, faces mine. The Mirror Protocol had copied me into flesh. Each version stepped forward, dressed in shards of black and white. They were perfect replicas, whispering the same phrase in perfect unison: “You cannot kill the truth.” Luca pulled me behind a crumbling pillar. “They’re not real, Amara!” “They bleed,” I hissed, pointing at one dragging a blade through its palm. Blood — red, warm, and real — fell to the ground. “They are real.”

The reflections moved on their own, whispering against the surface of the glass. Sera’s breath fogged. “What is this place?” Adrien’s jaw clenched, his golden eyes scanning every reflection. “Illusion.” His flames tried to flare, but the mirrors only multiplied the fire, warping it into monstrous shapes. A voice slithered through the air. Not illusion. Truth, The mirrors rippled. One reflection stepped forward, not just a mimic, but a full, breathing version of Adrien, breaking free from the glass with a crack like ice shattering. His double stood across from him, flames licking higher, golden eyes sharp and merciless.

Her arms were folded across her chest, skin laced with recursive code, eyes solid black the kind of Syra she might’ve been if she’d said yes to Kirin. Syra stared at it. Her lips curled. “Cute.” She turned her back on the reflection. But it spoke anyway: “You left the question behind.” “But the answer came with you.” The mirrored world began to ripple, like water trying to stay frozen. The air thickened not heat, not cold. Just pressure. The kind that made bones ache and skin remember wounds that had already scarred over. Sera stepped closer to Syra, reaching for her hand. “Is this another simulation?” she whispered.

I was a shadow of my former self, a mere specter of the person I used to be. As I stood there, frozen in terror, I felt like I was staring into the face of madness. I felt like I was losing my grip on reality, like I was slipping down a rabbit hole of insanity. The mirror seemed to be mocking me, taunting me with my own vulnerabilities. It was like it was saying, "You're not who you think you are. You're not strong, you're not confident. You're just a fragile, broken person, barely holding on by a thread."