In the dimly lit room, the long shadows made the gold and silver of JR12‘s body gleam with a metallic sheen. The small spider-like AI crawled to the center of the table, his legs clicking softly against the surface as he found a stable spot. A single lens on his body blinked to life, projecting a vivid holographic image, small enough for just him and Morgan to watch.
Ari glanced over his shoulder to make sure As’ni was still distracted by his toys.
The crystal man hummed happily as he swished the penlight over the spiral curls.
Looking back at JR12, dread curled in the pit of Ari’s stomach. Not that he’d regained any memories, but did he really want to know what made him lose them? His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening as the scene unfolded.
In the projection, a vast, empty chamber appeared, the walls an ominous hue that seemed to swallow light.
Ari saw himself standing at the far end, his expression one of fierce concentration. He barely recognized his own face, the tension pulling the muscles taut, his eyes burning with an intensity he hadn’t felt since… ever.
As’ni loomed before him in the image. A maniacal twist on his features translated into crass determination that had now been replaced by his simple, childlike expression. The purple crystals that made up his body shimmered and reflected the flickering light of the chamber. Each movement the alien made sent ripples through his crystalline form, distorting his figure momentarily before it reformed into a thousand sharp-edged mirrors.
It took a moment for Ari to recognize the place as the inside of the shipElemi.
The battle began without prelude, a silent war of psychic wills.
Ari watched himself raise a hand, his palm outstretched and his face twisted as if he summoned every ounce of his psionic strength. The surrounding air wavered and vibrated from an invisible energy, a force that Ari pushed against As’ni, trying to penetrate the alien’s crystalline defense.
But As’ni was relentless.
And Ari saw the struggle on his own face—how the veins on his temple pulsed, how the sweat beaded and dripped down his brow. Every effort he made seemed to falter against As’ni‘s sheer presence.
The crystal alien wasn’t just deflecting his attacks; he was feeding off them, growing stronger, his faceted body glowing with a sickening, ethereal light.
Ari’s breath hitched as he watched the moment he dreaded—the precise instant everything went wrong. In the hologram, his doppelgänger’s stance wavered, his knees buckling slightly. A flash of panic crossed his eyes, something subtle but unmistakable.
As’ni seized that weakness, his crystalline fist slamming into the ground. The chamber shuddered, and the walls rippled like water.
Ari staggered, his psychic defenses crumbling.
A final surge from As’ni, and the scene froze—the last frame capturing Ari mid-fall, his eyes wide, a scream of agony caught in his throat. His body twisted as if every bone shattered at once, and then the image dissolved into static.
Ari exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. A tight iron band wrapped around his ribs made his chest tight. His heart pounded—each beat sending an icy burn through his veins. The image of his own broken form seared into his mind, echoing with the familiar-yet-fragmented memories of that battle.
He felt Morgan’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t meet her gaze. Shame, anger, fear—emotions hard to distinguish churned inside him, threatening to overwhelm the fragile calm he desperately tried to hold. The memory loss had spared him by wrapping him in blissful ignorance. But now… now the truth hit him like a punch to the gut, stripping him bare and leaving him exposed. He stood there, the weight of his failure crashing down, sharp and relentless. No more hiding, no more excuses—just the harsh reality that he hadn’t been enough.
Just an utter failure.
JR12 clicked softly, and the hologram faded, leaving behind a heavy silence. As the AI’s lens blinked off, he retreated a few steps, as if sensing Ari’s humiliation.
Ari’s fingers slowly loosened, the residual pain from clenching them so tight grounded him to the here and now. To gather his thoughts, he took in a deep breath and tried to make sense of the chaos clouding his mind. Yet the image of that final, failed moment clung to him, a ghost that refused to go away.
He couldn’t say anything. He turned around, his shoulders sagging as he slipped into the shadows on the far side of the chamber. He struggled to outrun the nightmare he’d just seen—one that shattered everything he thought he knew about himself.
Instead of finding himself alone, he discovered Morgan had followed close behind.
“Ari.”
He barely heard her soft voice.
“This is a good thing.”
Ari refused to look at her behind him. “Oh? And how’s that?” he croaked. “Now we know for sure what a total failure I was when I had my memories.” His laugh was hollow. “So what good am I when I can’t remember a damn thing?”
“As’ni here. As’ni help Ari!”
Ari spun around.
