The Summoner Cultivates Her Own Doppelganger in the Apocalypse

For all those years, I survived the zombie apocalypse by summoning myself.

I was weak, so I just hid behind them and trembled, watching these alternate versions of me, clearly following completely different scripts, show off their skills and slaughter their way through the zombies.

I stared blankly, even more dazed by the scattered zombie parts covering the ground.

You want to know how I did it?

I have no idea!

These guys would charge in, saying things like "Man, you're playing with fire," shouting "How dare you be so insolent in front of your ancestor?" and yelling "Big brother, he's bullying me!" Then, somehow, the zombies would get taken out!

The special effects of my alternate selves' entrances dazzled me, while the sound of zombies tumbling to the ground filled my ears.

Safety level: up!

Whatever, I'm the best!

But my alternate selves were having a great time fighting up front.

When zombie bits flew over, my face twisted and I couldn't help taking two helpless steps backward, until my back pressed against another warm chest.

My body relaxed. So touched.jpg

This alternate self is still the best. The others are useless. They only know how to work, but this one can also...

Reader's guide:

Selfcest fiction.

What I love is myself.

Theme: Even if you rely on others, in the end you still have to rely on yourself.