Darkness had a sound. It wasn't silence.
Silence implied peace—rest, even. This was something else entirely.
A heavy, suffocating stillness that pressed against the ears until even breathing felt like an intrusion.
Anastasia learned that on the first night. Or what she thought was the first night.
Time had long since unraveled.
She hung where they had left her.
Wrists bound by iron that hummed faintly against her skin, reacting to the silver markings etched into her flesh.
Every time she moved—even slightly—the chains tightened, feeding off her strength, draining it like a living thing.
Her head dropped forward.
Her hair clung to her damp face, strands sticking to her lips as she exhaled shakily.
Don't sleep.
The thought came again, sharper this time. Sleep meant weakness.
Weakness meant—
The sound of footsteps cut through the darkness.
Measured. Unhurried.
Anastasia's eyes snapped open.
A door creaked somewhere beyond the shadows, spilling a thin line of golden light into the chamber.
It stretched across the stone floor, stopping just short of her feet—as though even light refused to touch her fully.
"You're awake."
The voice was smooth.
Pleasant. Wrong.
Anastasia said nothing.
The figure stepped closer.
Tall. Cloaked. Face hidden beneath shadow.
Only the hands were visible—pale, unmarked. Human.
"How disappointing," he murmured. "I had hoped you would struggle more."
Her lips curled despite the dryness cracking them.
"Untie me," she rasped. "And I'll show you struggle."
A soft chuckle echoed through the chamber.
"Ah," Benjamin said. "There she is."
He stepped into the dim light. And for a moment—
Anastasia forgot how to breathe. Her face stared back at her.
Perfect. Every feature. Every line. Every detail.
Even the silver markings shimmered across her skin.
Impossible.
"You…" Anastasia's voice faltered, then hardened. "What are you?"
The other girl tilted her head, studying her with mild curiosity.
"What am I?" she echoed. "That's an interesting question, coming from you."
Anastasia strained against the chains, ignoring the sharp pulse of pain that followed.
"You're not me."
The girl smiled.
"I am exactly you," she said softly. "At least… to everyone who matters."
Rage flared—bright, sudden, alive.
"Then why am I still breathing?" Anastasia snapped.
Benjamin stepped between them, amused. A sinister smile on his face.
"Because," he said lightly, "perfection requires comparison."
Anastasia's eyes flicked to him.
"And you think that is perfection?"
The girl didn't react. Didn't flinch. Didn't burn.
She simply watched. Observing. Learning.
Benjamin clasped his hands behind his back.
"You are unpredictable," he continued. "Emotional. Erratic. Difficult to control."
His gaze shifted toward the other girl.
"She is not."
Anastasia laughed.
The sound was raw, cracked—but real.
"So you made a puppet," she said. "Congratulations."
The girl's eyes narrowed slightly.
The smallest crack. Good.
Anastasia leaned forward as much as the chains allowed.
"But puppets don't bleed," she added quietly. "And they don't survive where I come from."
Silence stretched.
Then— Benjamin smiled.
"Anastasia," he said gently, "you misunderstand your position."
With a flick of his fingers, the chains tightened.
Pain exploded through her arms, sharp and blinding.
Her breath hitched—but she did not scream. Would not.
"You are no longer necessary," he continued calmly. "The kingdom already believes she is you."
The girl stepped closer.
Close enough now that Anastasia could see it clearly—
The difference. It was subtle. Too subtle for anyone who didn't know her.
The eyes. Same color. Same shape. But empty. No fire. No storm. No life.
"You're watching me," Anastasia said suddenly.
The girl blinked. Just once.
"You mimic everything," Anastasia went on, ignoring the pain. "Speech. posture. memory. But you're still learning."
Benjamin's expression darkened slightly.
"Careful," he warned. But Anastasia didn't stop.
"You hesitated," she pressed, locking eyes with her double.
"When he mentioned the woods. When Luke questioned you."
Another flicker. There.
"That means you don't know everything," Anastasia whispered. "Not yet."
The girl's calm cracked. Barely. But enough.
"What happened in the woods?" she asked.
The question was quiet. Controlled. But it carried something new. Urgency.
Anastasia smiled. Slowly.
Deliberately.
"Afraid you missed something?" she murmured.
The girl stepped closer. Too close.
"What did you see?" she demanded.
The man moved instantly, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Enough."
The word cut cleanly through the air.
The girl stilled but her gaze never left Anastasia's.
"Curiosity will ruin you," the man said softly.
"I need to know," she replied.
"You need to obey."
Silence. Then—
The girl stepped back. Composed once more. Perfect again.
The man turned to Anastasia.
"You see?" he said. "Even now, you create problems."
Anastasia exhaled slowly.
"Then kill me," she said.
For the first time— He hesitated.
Just slightly. A mistake. Anastasia saw it and she smiled.
"You can't," she said quietly.
His eyes narrowed.
"The markings," she continued.
"They're not just decoration. You copied them—but you don't understand them."
The chains pulsed faintly, reacting to her words.
"They're tied to me," she said. "To my blood."
The girl's gaze flicked to her own wrists.
For the first time—Uncertainty.
The man's voice turned cold.
"That's enough."
He stepped forward and struck her.
The impact snapped her head to the side, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth instantly. But Anastasia laughed.
Soft. Broken. Victorious.
"You don't know," she whispered. "That's why I'm still alive."
Silence filled the chamber again.
Heavy. Unforgiving.
The man straightened slowly.
"Keep her alive," he said at last. "For now."
He turned toward the door. The girl lingered.
Watching. Studying. Calculating.
Then, just before she left—
"What happened in the woods?" she asked again.
Anastasia lifted her head. Her eyes burned now.
Bright. Defiant. Alive.
"You should be more worried about what followed," she said.
The girl's expression didn't change but something shifted.
Something rebellious
Something dangerous.
Then she turned— And the light disappeared.
Darkness swallowed the room once more.
But this time— Anastasia smiled into it.
Because for the first time since the chains closed around her— She knew something they didn't.
And knowledge— Was power.