PROLOGUE — Second Alden (nameless) — It is dark in here. Not the dark of sleep. Not the dark of closed eyes on a sunny afternoon. This is a different kind of dark — the kind that has no ceiling, no floor, no walls you can press your palms against. I have tried. Many times. There is nothing to push back. I am aware. That is the worst part. I am completely, perfectly aware, and yet I cannot move a single finger. I cannot blink. I cannot breathe. I simply exist inside this body like a second heartbeat that nobody can hear. I have been here since the beginning. Before he even knew his own name, I was already watching. When the man with the glasses leaned close to the capsule and said "From now on, your name is Alden" — I heard it too. I just had no mouth to reply with. So I wait. I am very good at waiting. The boy on the outside is careless. Curious. He runs when he should think, and he trusts when he should run. He will make a mistake one day — a big enough mistake that he loses his grip on consciousness, even for a moment — and when that happens, I will be ready. I am not angry about any of this. I do not hate him. How could I? We share the same hands. The same heartbeat. The same face in the mirror. But I am tired of waiting in the dark. My name is Alden. The second one.
/p>