Kill Another Me

After staying up all night for 30 days straight, I saw “myself” eating a late-night snack on my own sofa. The acne scars were a perfect match, as was the old hoodie, and even the shrimp dumplings I loved most... When “he” asked with a cat-and-mouse smirk, “You’re back?” I finally learned the horrifying truth behind Project Mobius: it hadn’t failed. It had succeeded. The replacement had already begun. How could I kill the other me?