‘I’ managed to regain my composure after a while.
“Alright. Let’s organize what’s happening.”
“First, let’s sort out why we’re in this mess.”
At least our words no longer overlapped.
At first, it felt like we were physically bound together, halfway merged.
Now it just felt like we were tied with ropes.
The two of us—or rather, I—faced each other.
I had summoned clones countless times before, but this was bizarre.
I could sense myself staring at me.
It felt dizzying.
Where did my thoughts end, and where did my words begin?
“Ugh…”
“First, let’s calm down and decide how to organize this. Take a deep breath!”
Trying to speak at the same time only caused our thoughts to tangle and led to confusion.
After a long struggle, my clone and I agreed to take turns speaking.
“Who am I?”
“I am Violet! Violet D. Rugilinn, a student at Polaris Comprehensive Academy.”
The other me responded.
“No, that’s not the exact answer. I’m asking something deeper. What was I doing right before this possession occurred?”
“I was rushing to a temporary employment interview.”
“Correct! But there’s one more thing. What was the most embarrassing moment of my life in April 2017? Wait, don’t answer!”
“Ugh… Stop! Don’t think about it… Oh no, it’s that!”
We nodded at each other.
“This is definitely strange, but at least we share the same memories.”
“And we can read each other’s thoughts.”
My mind slowly calmed down.
A status window flickered before my eyes.
Synchronicity Adaptation: Conscious synchronization is complete due to the effects of collective intelligence.
“You saw that too?”
“Yeah! Could this be related to our situation?”
The term “collective intelligence” wasn’t used lightly.
“Wait a minute, but who’s the original?”
I folded my arms and spoke to ‘me.’
“Obviously, I’m the original! You’re a clone I created.”
“But I died during the freshman orientation earlier. When I woke up, I was transferred to the second clone’s body. Doesn’t that make you the clone?”
I shook my head.
“No! The original me transferred to the clone. So, you’re my subordinate.”
“What? Subordinate? No way! I’m the original!”
“You’re the clone!”
We jumped to our feet, frustration bubbling over, and swung our fists.
“Take this!”
“Take that!”
Unbelievably, my clone dodged my punch!
I also managed to dodge the clone’s punch.
“How is this even possible?”
“It’s because we’re thinking the same thing!”
We flailed our arms, resembling poorly coordinated martial arts movie scenes. Our punches and blocks either missed or canceled each other out.
“Whew… This is pointless. It feels like shooting at nothing.”
“Let’s figure out who the original is later. I’m exhausted…”
Ding!
My old smartphone buzzed with a messenger notification.
–
Rugilinn! All the school stores are closed or out of stock. I’ll head outside campus to buy some things, so it might take a while. Please wait!
–
“Oh dear, Daphne’s going to be late.”
“What now?”
We collapsed onto the floor, staring at each other in defeat.
“I’m tired… Just sweating. I want to shower.”
“Me too…”
Deciding to wash up, I removed my shirt.
That’s when something strange caught my eye.
“What’s that number on your arm?”
“My arm? Huh? You have one too!”
On the upper part of our left arms, large numbers—‘1’ and ‘2’—were marked!
“Is this some sort of clone numbering? These weren’t here before.”
“It must be a result of that new Dynamic Consciousness/Identity-Linked Clone Technique.”
I looked at the number ‘1’ on my arm.
“See? Since I’m number 1, that makes me the original!”
“No way… You can’t determine the original just from a number…”
I gloated, and the second clone slumped, looking dejected. I could sense its wounded pride.
As it grew more depressed, so did I.
Time to change the subject.
“Do you think the other clones also have numbers?”
“Hmm… I’m curious. Let’s summon them and check.”
We proceeded to create additional clones in quick succession.
“Oh! They do! Look, my arm says ‘4’!”
The two newly created Violets had ‘3’ and ‘4’ on their arms as well.
“So, the numbers simply indicate the order of creation.”
“Let’s summon as many as our magic allows!”
Using up all our ether, we summoned three more Violets.
“Now I’m out of magic… What about you?”
“Same here. It seems clones share the same magic pool.”
The fifth clone flopped onto the floor, gasping.
The third leaned against a wall, exhausted.
“Maybe my level increased, allowing me to summon more clones.”
“If our magic capacity increases, we could create even more clones.”
“That’s a good idea. Let’s test it later.”
The fifth and sixth clones chimed in agreement.
Blonde-haired, red-eyed identical girls filled the dorm room.
Despite having seven of me, thanks to the power of the Unique Ability, the initial chaos didn’t return.
The world only felt narrower, bigger, and taller.
It was like switching from a first-person shooter game to a third-person strategy simulation.
An unsettling thought struck me—1, or rather the original—and it felt like a lightning bolt.
Everyone in the room collectively gasped.
“Wait, if we de-summon a clone now…”
“No! 1! Don’t say it! That’s terrifying!”
“What happens to us—me—then?”
The Violets in the room froze simultaneously.
“Ahh! Does that mean our existence gets erased?”
The fourth clone screamed.
“Well, I don’t think it’s complete annihilation. Remember the lab and Kalia’s house?”
The third clone calmed the fourth while addressing the first clone.
“There? Hold on… Oh! That time, clones occasionally did things on their own. Like sitting at the table unprompted or acting with precision despite vague commands.”
“Exactly. Back then, I vaguely felt like ‘I’ was still there. Not as clearly as now, but I could sense some awareness of being present.”
If that’s the case, this strange ability wasn’t something that suddenly appeared. It was always latent.
“And, not long ago, whether I’m the original or not, Violet died. But the entity I think of as the original is still here, alive.”
“So, in conclusion, even if de-summoned, the consciousness and memory must persist somewhere. Complete erasure doesn’t happen.”
“Hey, 3! Do you have proof for that? We must consider the worst-case scenario!”
The fifth clone shouted.
“Wait, first clone. The body under the air conditioner—was that really ‘me’?”
The first clone’s face scrunched.
She spoke up.
“Then… am I not the original? Am I just another personality mistakenly believing I’m the original?”
We all clutched our heads in unison.
“Ugh… Now we’re discussing existentialism and self-concept.”
“Enough talk! Let’s test it by de-summoning one!”
The sixth clone snapped her fingers, and the first clone began dissolving into sparkling dust.
Chaos erupted.
“Wait! Too fast! Stop!”
“Ahh! Don’t! The original is vanishing!”
“The first might not be the original!”
“But you’re thinking it too!”
The Violets stared at the spot where the first clone had disappeared, their faces a mix of fear, curiosity, and tension.
Wait… I thought I disappeared. But I’m still here!
Somewhere deep within our minds, the voice of No. 1 resonated.
Using the remaining mana once more, I created a clone marked with the number 1 on its arm.
“Violet! Resurrection!”
No. 1 leaped up, No. 5 sighed in relief, and No. 3 nodded as if it were natural.
“As expected! My theory was correct.”
We then huddled together to discuss this peculiar phenomenon.
“Through reverse-generation and creation experiments, we’ve learned one general truth. The self of a reverse-generated clone doesn’t evaporate or disappear. Instead, it’s temporarily stored somewhere within our minds. For example, in the case of the incident during the welcoming ceremony, while the body was destroyed, the self was preserved and could move to another body.”
No. 4 summarized our thoughts.
“Oh, if that’s the case, does it mean we can’t die?”
No. 1 tilted their head with sparkling eyes.
“I hadn’t considered that! So, as long as there’s at least one clone left and our mana isn’t depleted, what happens to us?”
“The answer’s already there. In the original story, the Boundless Witch could only be defeated after all her clones were destroyed. Ah! Then…”
I, and all of us together, shouted in awe.
“Wow! Amazing. We… can’t die!”
“We’re invincible!”
“That’s something we’ll only know after testing this ability further. There’s still one problem remaining.”
No. 3 frowned and rested their chin on their hand with a serious expression.
“Question: Who’s the ‘main body’? No. 1 was reverse-generated just now. We thought No. 1 was the main body.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s ‘collective intelligence.’ All of us Violets are ‘me.’ Overmind, hive consciousness!”
No. 5 chided No. 3.
No. 2 shook their head and countered.
“No, No. 4’s argument makes sense. I share thoughts with all of us and feel that you’re all ‘me,’ but I can also sense that I exist as ‘myself,’ as No. 2.”
No. 6 proposed a new hypothesis.
“Maybe it’s an illusion. What if we’re just one entity, and all this back-and-forth is like playing with dolls, talking to ourselves?”
I was horrified. Could this entire conversation between “us” be nothing more than a mad soliloquy?
“Ahhh! This won’t do. We can’t reach any conclusions like this. Descartes, help us!”
“What can we even do about it? This is unsolvable! Even Dennett or Frankfurt wouldn’t be able to explain our situation!”
“Grrraaaah!”
“Hyaaaah!”
Following the Chinese Room, another catastrophe in cognitive philosophy—the Violet Chamber!
We Violets fell into a state of anomie over this issue.
The confusion of self!
The crisis of losing our identity!
The brain in a vat!
As everyone flailed about, No. 7 stepped forward, spreading their arms wide and declaring.
“Everyone, shut up! From now on, I’m convening the First Violet Assembly!”
And so, we gathered and earnestly began deliberations.
After ten minutes of heated marathon discussions, I was able to summarize a few conclusions.
“We’ve managed to outline a few hypotheses about our condition.”
Nos. 3, 4, and 5 grabbed scraps of notebook paper and began sketching diagrams with pens.
“Let’s start with the first theory.”
The diagram showed several circles, labeled with numbers, connected by lines under a roughly drawn version of my face.
“The first hypothesis is central control. The idea is that a single consciousness controls all the bodies.”
“This can be refuted by the fact that No. 1, previously thought to be the main body, died and came back. Besides, we all feel conscious. At the very least, we perceive ourselves as conscious. This theory is dismissed.”
We moved on to the second hypothesis drawn by No. 4.
“The second hypothesis is integrated consciousness. Each of us has a crude individual consciousness, but together, like an internet network, we form the larger identity of ‘Violet.’ Think of cloud computing.”
No. 3 objected.
“This explains emergent tendencies when multiple entities gather beyond a certain point, but ‘we’ started as one person. It’s the exact opposite case, so this is dismissed too.”
Finally, No. 5 presented the third diagram.
“Then this is the only viable model: parallel consciousness structure.”
The sketch showed a series of my character’s faces lined up horizontally.
“At present, this is the most plausible explanation for how our thoughts and consciousness are shared. Each of us has individual consciousness but shares memories and emotions with one another.”
“But according to this model, when a clone is reverse-generated or disappears, that entity should just cease to exist. How do we explain the continuity of self-consciousness?”
“Ah, that’s the problem. Maybe there’s another explanation…”
No. 6 picked up a pen and added a few more elements to the diagram.
“Let’s assume an external server. An external system that stores and shares our memories and selves as a kind of backup server. That would explain why, even when a clone is destroyed or reverse-generated, the concept of ‘me’ persists.”
“What a notion!”
“It feels like a mishmash of the earlier theories, but it’s compelling!”
We all agreed.
“There are still gaps in this. The backup server idea is purely speculative, after all. But one thing is clear: we can share all our memories and thoughts without exception and act with unified purpose. Let’s conclude with that. Bang! Bang! Bang!”
Satisfied with our answers, we adjourned the First Violet Assembly.
“I have a feeling Daphne will be back soon. Should we reverse-generate?”
“Sounds good. For now, let’s keep our shared consciousness and memory a secret.”
One by one, we dissolved into sparkling dust.
In the end, only No. 4 remained.
Just then, the door clicked open, and Daphne walked in, carrying an armful of plastic bags.
“Sorry for being late! Rugilinn, I got caught up buying a bunch of things. Would you like some ramen and rice balls for now?”
I ate the cup ramen and rice balls with satisfaction.
This isn’t some moe game for nothing—despite being in a Western-style school, they sell onigiri and cup ramen nearby.
As bedtime approached, I quickly got ready and climbed to the upper bunk of the bed.
School life would begin in earnest tomorrow, so I had to sleep early.
Lying there, the bed felt cold and empty, making it hard to fall asleep.
I generated No. 2.
“Hmm? Why?”
“It’s cold…”
I hugged No. 2 tightly and fell asleep.
It was warm.
I, as an existence, smelled really soft and nice…