[Resent alone filters this away from his awful original. Goes after
this. 8Db]
He is twelve, but the number is only technical. This is his first day in this room, in these clothes, with this name; with this life he inherited. He doesn't mind. He wants to be useful. He is glad they think he is. He's a replica. This was why he was born. He doesn't
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Fon Master... are you all right?
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Thank you for your concern, Asch.
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You don't mean...
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As confusing as that will probably end up being, my original is here now as well--his self from just prior to his death, of course.
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[master of the understatement over here.]
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...I just don't want to run into him again.
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