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Water flowed freely from the tap, the steady stream filling the silence of the small restroom. Anna—or whoever she really was—stood leaning over the sink, staring blankly as the freezing water pooled in her cupped hands and overflowed through her fingers.
With a shaky breath, she splashed the icy water onto her face. The shock helped clear the fog in her mind. She straightened up, feeling each droplet of cold water trailing down her cheeks.
Suddenly, her reflection in the mirror flickered. The youthful brunette vanished, and in her place, a striking face with piercing golden eyes and sapphire-blue skin stared back. The image lasted less than a heartbeat before vanishing, but it left her heart beating louder than ever.
"Is that… who I used to be?"
She reached up and touched her face. Somehow, for some inexplicable reason, the flesh beneath her fingertips felt foreign. Like this slender brunette with soft features and warm, innocent eyes was not her. Like she was wearing someone else's skin.
"Who am I?"
The answer was waiting for her on the fifth floor. Emma Frost had returned to the building. Dante would be calling her to come upstairs at any moment to undergo the psychic procedure. The glaring blank spaces in her mind were about to be filled by what should have been there, but the anticipation didn't bring her any relief. She dreaded the truth so much that her feet refused to move.
She wasn't normal. That much had become clear. Whatever she had been before waking up as Anna, it wasn't the life of a simple secretary or receptionist. Normal people didn't get blocks placed in their memories. If she was normal, Dante wouldn't occasionally give her conflicted looks. And her adopted daughter—Anna Marie—certainly wasn't normal either.
There were chances for her to be a monster. Someone who had actively tried to harm Dante, Silvija, and the people who treated her with warmth every single day. If Emma unlocked her mind and revealed a ruthless killer or a bitter enemy, would she instantly become a threat that needed to be put down?
Her hands gripped the edge of the sink. The fear of her past was only half the agony. The other half was the certainty of her present. No matter what happened when those memories returned, Anna, the cheerful and hardworking secretary, would stop existing. That version of her, who felt safe and happy in this job, the woman who enjoyed scolding her boss, would die.
This undeniable fact ate at her from the inside out. It felt like walking toward her own execution.
She was overwhelmed. She was suffocating. She wanted to escape this. No longer she wanted to be this doomed secretary or that blue-skinned stranger she had been before. She wanted to be someone else. Anyone who wasn't Anna or whoever was before.
Her hands, which had been trembling, suddenly glimmered. The change began at her fingertips and spread rapidly.
The reflection in the mirror changed.
Her brown hair shortened and darkened slightly while a dramatic white streak bloomed at the front of her hairline. Her skin lightened to a pale tone. Her eyes shifted to emerald green, framed by thicker lashes. Her face became more angular, her lips darker and fuller.
She felt her slender frame growing subtly taller and filling out with lean muscles before another set of clothes emerged under her office suit. She couldn't care less about that in this situation.
Her breathing grew heavy as she stared at the new reflection.
"Anna Marie?" She raised a hand to her neck, stunned by the sound of her own voice. It was deeper and huskier, carrying a thick Southern drawl. "I am Anna Marie…?"
She wasn't allowed the time to think properly as the door to the restroom opened. She turned slowly and found standing there with wide eyes. He was naturally bewildered to see Anna Marie here.
"Rogue?"
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Who's Rogue?"
He gazed at her face for a moment, then closed the door behind him. "How did this happen?"
He had recognized her, despite the fact she looked like Anna Marie.
She turned to the mirror and wrapped her arms around her belly. "I was just... thinking."
"The janitor mentioned you had been in here since you came down from my office." He leaned his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms. "That was forty minutes ago."
"I don't know…" She sighed. "I don't know anything anymore."
"I understand what you're going through. If you aren't ready, we can push it back. It's your life, your decision."
She kept her eyes fixed on the mirror. The young woman's face staring back at her made her chest ache. This wasn't her adoptive daughter, but she was still suffering out there. Her gut feeling said so. And the only person who potentially knew Anna Marie's location had lost her memories. This wasn't the time for her to throw a tantrum and be selfish.
The real her had to return.
She pressed her clasped hands against her chest. "I have a request, Dante. No matter what we find out about me… can you please rescue Anna Marie? If it ain't too much to ask."
His expression softened. "Don't make that face. I was already planning to recover her. She's far too powerful to leave as some villain's puppet. We're getting her back."
Anna breathed in a sigh of relief. Maybe she wasn't that terrible of a person. Otherwise, Dante wouldn't have agreed to help her.
"Then… I'm ready to recover my memories, sugah—" She paused and put a hand over her mouth. The endearment slipped out naturally. It seemed her adoptive daughter loved using this word for her loved ones. "Don't mind what I said."
He chuckled. "I don't mind it, actually."
"..."
He extended a hand, which she took without hesitation. The moment their skin touched, a strange, electric jolt passed through her. She gasped and looked down at their connected hands.
"Did you feel that, sugah?"
He revealed a serious expression. "Can you change back?"
Though uncertain about the request, she tried to comply. She closed her eyes and focused, trying to grasp the power she barely understood. He probably didn't want her prancing around the office wearing someone else's face, which was a perfectly valid reason.
When she opened her eyes again, something bizarre had happened. There was a second Anna Marie standing beside her. The new woman looked exactly like her, down to the white streak in her hair except she was completely motionless. She looked more like a hyper-realistic statue than a living, breathing person.
As she looked at her duplicate, a weird sensation came to her mind. It felt like she could control the other her. She gave it a try, and suddenly, her vision split. She now had two distinct perspectives, both looking at Dante from different angles.
"What the hell?"
Although she didn't know much about her past, she could confidently say this was the weirdest experience of her life.
She quickly discovered that it was easier to mentally sync movements than to try and force both bodies to take different actions.
"Rogue can clone herself?" Dante thought out loud. "Interesting."
She crossed both sets of arms in sync. Through both sets of eyes, she glared at the man smirking to himself. "Dont just stand there analyzing me, sugah. Help me."
Dante looked between the two of them. It was hard to miss the appreciation in his eyes. "Honestly? I don't mind having two beautiful secretaries."
That irritated her more than it should have. This jerk showed more attraction toward Anna Marie than he ever did for her. "Real charming, Dante."
"Everyone says that." He smiled. "You should be able to disconnect your consciousness from the clone."
"But then the clone will be stuck standing here like a mannequin."
God knows what people would do to the breathing replica of her adopted daughter in this restroom. She was never going to leave her clone here.
"Try focusing on the connection," he suggested, stopping with the teasing. "Imagine pulling her back like taking a deep breath. I know that sounds weird, but it should work."
"Uh. I'll try."
She closed her eyes and concentrated. In a moment, the sensation of an extra body faded like mist dissolving. The clone had been absorbed in her body.
"Sugah… why can I shapeshift into someone else and possess their powers? It feels like…" She swallowed hard. "The powers of a villain…"
If her true appearance was the blue-skinned woman from the flicker in the mirror, wouldn't that mean she had taken this brown-haired girl's face? Had she stolen this innocent girl's entire life just to hide herself? For what purpose? And more importantly, where was the real Anna?
'Did I kill her?'
He gently cleared his throat. "We'll figure that out through telepathy."
She nodded quietly and tried to use her shapeshifting ability, which ended up working out. The mirror showed the soft face of Anna the secretary, not Anna Marie.
"Let's go…"
***
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime. Emma and Jean were deep in a conversation when they stepped out of the elevator. Emma was sitting in Dante's high-backed leather chair as if it belonged to her, while Jean leaned against the table, her arms loosely folded. It still baffled her that Emma Frost of all people was so deeply intertwined with Dante.
'Why didn't I take Emma's position instead?'
Rich, beautiful, confident, and powerful. What was she doing stealing the life of a receptionist? Her past self might have been stupid.
Both women turned toward her at the same moment.
Jean straightened off the table and gave a polite nod, warm but distant, the kind reserved for strangers who had never interacted properly before.
Emma's gaze, however, was different. There was a flicker of recognition in those icy blue eyes. It unsettled Anna more than anything else. They had never spoken, never met… or at least, Anna hadn't. But whoever she used to be clearly had some sort of relationship with Emma.
Jean gently knocked her knuckles against the table's surface. "Rest here. On your back, please."
Dante nodded at her. "Go ahead."
She hesitated for only a second before obeying. She took off her coat and lay back on the table. Her heart, which had been beating loudly, had become completely quiet.
Emma positioned herself on her left side and took her hand. "Darling, you've survived worse. Trust me on that."
She wanted to ask Emma how she knew her, but there would be no point. Since her memories would be returning soon.
Dante took her other hand. "I'll put you to sleep to make the process easier."
He tried to speak in a comforting voice, which made her chuckle. The fear of what she might discover, the terror of losing this version of herself—everything became secondary to the strange peace in her chest. At least her last moments would be spent with a charming man.
She took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm ready."
***
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