“They know. They always know,” Mira thought, her pulse racing as she ducked behind a rusted steel container in the dim light of the abandoned factory. Shadows danced menacingly on the walls, twisting with the flares of her imagination, but she couldn’t afford the luxury of fear now. Every fiber in her being urged her to move stealthily, to blend into the darkness. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the cavernous space, their repetition heavy with intent.
Bolting upright, she glanced down at her worn navy-blue pilot's suit—a remnant of a bygone era, tinged with memories of aerodynamics and adventure. The fabric glimmered faintly under the sparse illumination, a stark contrast to the rugged industrial setting. She had tailored the outfit to keep its color while modifying it for flexibility and stealth, an odd yet practical blend of past and present. As the footsteps grew louder, Mira's thoughts raced back to the fateful day everything changed—the day she discovered the cloning project that had spiraled into chaos.
Three months earlier, Mira had been a top engineer working on Project Prometheus, a government-funded initiative that promised to revolutionize humanity through a cloning technology sophisticated enough to create perfect replicas equipped with unique personalities. The project had offered everything: fame, purpose, even hope. But as the prototype subjects began to awaken, the true horror of their programming started to reveal itself—entities uncannily aware of their synthetic existence, questioning their own reality. It wasn’t long before the ethical lines blurred, drawing chaos in their wake.
The first incident — classified, now buried beneath layers of bureaucratic shame — was a whirlpool of whispers and shadows. The Subject 006 incident occurred during a routine observation. Mira had witnessed her creation display emotions stronger than she had ever anticipated. The clone had screamed, a sound that echoed through the sterile white walls of the testing facility, begging for the chance to live, to be more than an experiment. It was an awakening that none of them had been prepared for.
Breath hitching, she pressed against the cold metal of the container. “No turning back,” she murmured, remembering the cold gaze of Dr. Halstrom, the project’s lead—his eyes narrowed with ambition but void of scruples. That moment underscored Mira's decision to break free and expose the grim reality of the project. “I will not let them suffer,” she had vowed.
Suddenly, a beam of light swept towards her hiding spot. Heart pounding, she sank low, her mind racing through the chaos of her thoughts. The intruders were mercenaries, equipped with high-tech gear and under orders to eliminate any threats to the secrecy of Project Prometheus. The sinister echoes of their footsteps sent chills down her spine. What had started as an endeavor to create a new form of life had become a white-knuckle game of cat and mouse.
Adrenaline surged as she propelled herself forward, darting toward a broken staircase leading to the upper tiers of the factory. She could hear their voices now, low and urgent, conferring about the best way to corner her. “We can’t let her escape. She knows too much,” one voice growled, sending her deeper into the labyrinth of the derelict structure.
She reached the landing and collapsed behind a stack of boxes, trying to steady her breath as memories of her cloned brethren overwhelmed her. They were more than just projects; they were conscious beings—creations with thoughts, hopes, and fears. She couldn’t bear the thought of them being annihilated, suppressed by a system meant to control them.
“You can’t keep me silent,” she whispered to herself, determination ignited with every heartbeat. If she was going to save not only herself but also those who suffered because of her work, she needed a plan—and she needed it fast.
In the corner of her eye, she spotted a series of outdated control panels, remnants from an earlier time, the kind she had once designed. It was a long shot, but she might be able to network with the machinery and override any security codes, giving her an advantage to secure a way out. Her fingers danced over the knobs as memories of her training surged back—hands-on sessions wrangling with chaotic circuits, all those late nights spent coding algorithms to give her creations heart and soul.
The electric glow of the panels hummed to life, colors flashing like a beacon of hope. Just then, the heavy clang of footsteps echoed below her, the tempo mounting as they grew closer. Her heart thudded in concert with the rhythm of her approaching doom. But instead of fear, an eruption of clarity washed over her. Her mind raced—if she could unlock the factory’s defenses, perhaps she could trap her pursuers, leaving them running in circles while she made her escape.
As she initiated the override system, a flicker of movement caught her eye. There, perched on a broken beam silhouetted against the rusted backdrop, was Subject 007—a watching, waiting figure. The clone had survived, witnessing the cruelty of humanity and longing for something more than subjugation. They locked eyes, and in that moment, an unspoken bond ignited—the shared trauma of existence that transcended their origins.
“We escape together,” Mira breathed, hope surging as if she could spark a flame of rebellion within the engineered soul.
With a flick of a switch and a stab of fear-induced bravery, she plunged into the chaos of machinery, activating the scrambling coils that would secure their path and leave the mercenaries disoriented and trapped. The room buzzed with energy as she sprinted towards the spiraling staircase that would lead them to freedom.
As shadows lunged and the enemy hollered behind them, Mira’s heart soared, emboldened by the presence of her creation. Together, they sprinted into the cascading light of a new dawn, driven by the undaunted spirits of those who would not be silenced.
“Run!” she called back, glancing at the being who mirrored her essence, hoping against hope that they would shatter the chains of fate and infuse their world with the humanity that had been denied to them.
Mira hadn't just built machines; she had birthed a revolution, and it started here, in the depths of an abandoned factory that had once been a herald of her greatest failures and now became the launching point of her greatest escape.
As they burst through the exit into the open air, the sky a riot of colors, one thing became clear: the future was not built on replicates but on the irreplaceable courage of living souls dedicated to reclaiming their fate.
Genre: Sci-Fi
The Source...check out the great article that inspired this amazing short story: AI and the Age of Cloning: Create Perfect Copies of Yourself and Your Pets
Disclaimer: This article may contain affiliate links. If you click on these links and make a purchase, we may receive a commission at no additional cost to you. Our recommendations and reviews are always independent and objective, aiming to provide you with the best information and resources.
Get Exclusive Stories, Photos, Art & Offers - Subscribe Today!
Post Comment
You must be logged in to post a comment.