New Catalogue 2020.7z.004 — Gemination

Elias recoiled, but he couldn't look away. The software was cycling through options, digitally grafting impossible "products" onto his real-time image. Golden thorns weaving through his ribs; teeth replaced by iridescent opals that hummed when he spoke.

His monitor didn't show a room. It showed a mirror. Using his webcam, the software mapped his own face, but it began to geminate . On the screen, a second version of his eye began to bud from his tear duct—a perfect, crystalline replica. Then came the "Catalogue" descriptions, scrolling in a cold, elegant font: Gemination New Catalogue 2020.7z.004

Then, the cursor moved on its own. It clicked a button at the bottom of the screen labeled: Elias recoiled, but he couldn't look away

Elias looked at the door. From the hallway, he heard the heavy, rhythmic thud of something that didn't walk on two legs—something that sounded exactly like the pulsing gemstone he had just seen on his screen. The "New Catalogue" wasn't a book of things to buy; it was a menu of what they were coming to build. His monitor didn't show a room