As Fazil was led through the lifeless building, the sterile environment seemed rather ghostly. The dim lights reflected off rows of metal equipment, and the faint hum of machinery echoed through the corridors.
He was a resident intern and had been through hospitals before; it was not something new to him.
But regardless, everything around him felt unreal, too much to even walk through without trembling.
He had witnessed something beyond comprehension.
There were preservation tanks, each containing entire bodies, the pale liquid keeping them suspended like silent shadows.
Each one had a number. It was similar to what had been mentioned just moments ago.
He looked up.
Their faces.
He started quivering. They looked exactly the same.
It became hard to breathe. He started gasping for air, struggling to stay conscious.
With a constant ringing in his ears, it was difficult to focus on the conversation happening in front of him.
The bodies were breathing.
Alive.
Fazil tried to steady himself, but everything was spinning. The room tilted around him, the pale tanks blurring into one another.
His vision turned black.
He fainted.
The room fell silent for a brief moment as the unconscious intern collapsed onto the cold floor.
Moments later, the sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor.
A young boy of nineteen strode into the room.
"Father, did you find her—Fawdaa?"
Seeing the boy enter, Zayd's eyes softened.
"Zubair…" he hesitated. "How did you know they had exchanged places?"
"Father, this is my project. The records weren't making sense."
Zayd regretted neglecting them, knowing it was now too late to make amends.
He asked, looking worried, "Did you meet with Zara?"
Zubair interrupted, looking annoyed.
"Father, I did not meet her, nor does she want to see me. It would be better if you met her in person."
He paused mid-sentence.
"After the stunt she pulled… you should see how she is doing, Father."
Zayd noticed how he no longer called him Abbu. It bothered him, but he knew it was his fault.
What neither of them realized was that Zara had been standing near the partially open door, listening to the entire scene.
Zubair took his leave, carrying a writing pad clipped with a bunch of reports.
The laboratory grew quiet again, the low mechanical hum returning as the only sound.
It suddenly occurred to Zayd that he had forgotten something.
He was supposed to put the clone back into the tank.
"Father."
A sharp voice echoed through the room.
Zayd's pupils widened for a moment, the sound of her voice stirring memories he wished had stayed buried.
He could not look her in the eye.
Zara, running in a hospital gown, slowed down as she approached him.
"Father."
Zayd still did not turn to look at her. It was painful just to face her.
Behind him, the preservation tanks glowed faintly, pale bodies suspended in silence.
Zara clutched the thin gown, trying to calm herself. Her eyes twitched slightly.
"You still refuse to see me," she murmured softly. "I see."
"I see you are busy, Father. I would like to have a word."
Zayd responded, his back still facing her.
"I am not busy. You may say what is on your mind."
Anger surged within her.
He wouldn't even look at me.
Wouldn't ask about me.
Doesn't care about me.
My brother's experimental clones are from me.
Me.
Not him.
Me.
Her thoughts screamed inside her head.
You can look at them but not at me.
Is it guilt? What is it?
However, she only spoke calmly.
"Do not lock the clone. It was me who told her to run away."
She waited for a response, hoping he would at least glance at her.
Zayd knew it very well, but he still feigned ignorance.
"I see. I will do as you wish."
The words that left his mouth only inflamed her anger further.
"You know everything, yet you act as if you don't. I hate this. I hate everything."
"You already have a replacement ready, so do you even care?"
"I thought it was for Mom…"
Her voice trembled slightly as she tried to hold back her tears.
She cleared her throat.
"That is all."
The awkward silence stretched between them.
"Okay. You may leave," Zayd said quietly, fiddling with the pen in his hand.
Zara turned away and left the suffocating room.
The cold corridor air felt easier to breathe than the silence she had just left behind.
As she walked down the hallway, she suddenly came face to face with Zubair.
Zubair rushed toward her.
"Listen, sis. I don't care what you do, just don't interfere with my work."
"I won't," she said in a monotonous tone.
Then a thought crossed her mind.
Why must I be the only one suffering?
She grabbed her brother's coat.
"I will."
And rushed away without saying another word.
Zubair's eyes widened in shock.
"You stupid idiot!" he puffed up like a puffer fish. "Don't you dare!"
After a moment, he forced himself to calm down.
It's useless to shout.
Forget her.
Let's focus on the result.
He did not even consider following her.
However, a small part of him wished things could go back to how they were when their mother was still alive.
As Zayd ordered his junior to take the clone away, Fazil lay unconscious on the cold floor.
Yet something strange was happening.
Fragments of memories began flooding his mind—memories that were not his.
A girl running through a dim corridor.
A voice whispering, Run.
Cold hands grabbing her arms.
The label on the chamber: Experiment 5030511.
Then the final moment.
The experiment looked up at her executioner, then at Fawdaa .
Instead of fear, a gentle smile appeared on her face.
As if she already knew the outcome.
As if she had accepted it.
Moments later, Experiment 5030511 was terminated .
Fazil's fingers twitched on the laboratory floor..