Returning from Sublevel 4 to Sublevel 1, then descending again through another route—each checkpoint requiring Anomalous Item-005 (The Master Key)—wasted a full 10 minutes of Luo Shu's time.
Thankfully, Site-33 was a ghost town at night. No need for anti-meme stealth, or he'd spend the whole evening just navigating bureaucracy.
If Anomalous Item-3755 had been a warm-up for Euclid-class memes, his next target was no pushover.
Anomalous Item-1026: "An Old Acquaintance."
A rare humanoid meme, it exerted a powerful effect on anyone who directly observed it.
The victim would utterly believe Item-1026 was someone they knew and trusted—for exactly one hour.
Even after separation, no one could convince them otherwise during that time.
In one containment breach, D-5582 (a test subject) had mistaken it for his mother.
With his "help," Item-1026 slaughtered several guards and escaped.
Its infectivity and lethality were low; its Euclid classification stemmed from its humanoid cunning—its ability to manipulate victims into aiding it.
But Luo Shu's willpower was a different beast.
Rather than worrying about infection, he was curious:
Who would he see?
Jianjia?
Aeolus?
IR1901?
Old Man Jack?
Lieutenant Peter of the Broken Hammer?
Or... the late Marion Wheeler?
These were faces he'd known in this world—familiar, but fleeting.
Yet Item-1026 didn't mimic just anyone. It dug deeper, manifesting the most deeply ingrained presence in the observer's psyche.
To Luo Shu, those people were passing shadows. Their departures (or deaths) brought only brief sorrow, not lasting grief.
So who, then?
Perhaps the answer lay buried under tampered memories.
Perhaps this encounter would unearth something.
Anticipation thrumming, he reached Item-1026's unit.
The door bore a video feed—showing the anomaly as a shifting humanoid, its form flickering between heights, builds, and colors.
Indirect viewing nullified its effect.
Above the screen, a placard read:
Anomalous Item-1026.
A detail that gave Luo Shu pause.
1026… 126.
"An Old Acquaintance"… "The Unseen Friend."
Meme… Anti-Meme.
Coincidence?
He pushed the door open.
And saw—
Himself.
Not the faces he'd expected. Not some hidden fragment of his past.
Just… Luo Shu.
Do I have a twin?
Am I just narcissistic?
No. Neither.
Item-1026 hadn't transformed. It was his perception that had shifted.
The anomaly was a mirror, reflecting the deepest imprint in his mind.
And that imprint was… only himself.
There was no one else.
"Take me with you!" the other "Luo Shu" urged. "Haven't you always wanted to escape this world?"
His own voice.
His own words?
Baffled, Luo Shu retreated into his mental realm—seeking clarity.
There, he found another "him."
But he knew.
This was Item-1026's consciousness.
Minds couldn't be copied.
No matter how identical two beings appeared, their essence diverged. Even twins carried distinct psychic signatures.
If Item-1026 could perfectly replicate a mind, Luo Shu's consciousness would've absorbed it instantly.
Staring at his "double," Luo Shu hesitated.
Should I destroy it?
Not out of reluctance—but uncertainty.
Item-1026 might hold answers.
What did you mean by 'escape this world'?
Is that my true desire… or your fabrication?
Killing it would erase those questions forever.
So he chose another path.
His physical and psychic selves stepped forward in unison, seizing the doppelgänger's throat.
Mental Enslavement.
You're a sentient anomaly. Don't blame me for this.
A lurch—
—and Luo Shu stood in Item-1026's mental world.
Before him hung a mirror, its surface rippling like liquid.
The anomaly's true form.
And in its reflection…
Not the black-clad infiltrator of tonight.
But a soft-faced man in casual wear.
Himself—as he'd once been.
His "past life."
The face he'd awoken with in San Quentin Prison, the identity he'd clung to as a transmigrator.
The memories he'd dismissed as false as this world's truths piled up.
Yet now, Item-1026 had exhumed them.
And forced him to confront—
Which was real?