She smiled. It was an unfamiliar expression on that face. She decided she liked it.
The clone knew her moves because the clone was her. But the clone had never improvised. sena ayanami
Sena looked at the row of tanks. Then at Unit 07, unconscious but breathing. Then at her own hands, still wet with amber fluid. She smiled
“You’re wondering why,” said the voice. A woman stepped out from behind the servers. Headmistress Hoshino, her silver hair immaculate, her smile worse than any threat. “Why we built her. Why we told you nothing. Why we’re so interested in your particular… gifts.” The clone knew her moves because the clone was her
The second note came taped to the underside of her desk.
She had come here expecting to find monsters. She had found a mirror instead. The next morning, Sena Ayanami walked into the Academy’s main hall five minutes before the first bell. Her uniform was immaculate. Her hair was pinned. Her face was a doll’s face—still, perfect, unreadable.
Not even when she found the first note slipped under her pillow.