It was easy enough for Sehun to kill himself. He put a bolt between his eyes as soon as he saw him. At that time, he didn’t really know anything about the others apart from that they existed and had to be disposed of.

It was when he shot himself that he found out that they, too, bled. So they weren’t robots. They were made of organic matter, just the same as the originals. He preferred ranged weapons to keep his hands clean, and he didn’t like to get any closer than necessary. On this occasion, though, curiosity had got the better of him. It wasn’t every day you got to kill yourself and live to tell the tale.

He was cautious as he approached the body, half expecting it to open its eyes and get to its feet, to pull the arrow from its forehead like it was no more than a splinter. Of course, that didn’t happen. It wasn’t a sci-fi world. It only felt like it.

He stood over himself for a long while, looking at his features as if he was admiring a realistic waxwork. It gave him chills remembering that only minutes before, this other him had been an animated being. But it was no more. Now he had one less of them to worry about.

Somewhere in the fight he’d been separated from the other five, and so he’d gone on alone. He had faith that they’d all come together again in the end. They always did.

When he comes across Chanyeol, it catches him off-guard. He hesitates. It never occurred to him before that it would feel different seeing a carbon copy of one of his team members. He hadn’t needed to think twice before ending the life of the other him because he’d had no doubt in his mind that he was one of the others.

Chanyeol spots him. Chanyeøl.

He raises his bow, arrow readied, but he’s trembling. He’s fairly confident that this is Chanyeøl, not Chanyeol, but fairly confident isn’t good enough to make him loose his arrow into the other man’s face. Chanyeøl raises an eyebrow, flashes him a cocky smile, and Sehun swallows back a whimper. This other, he doesn’t just look like Chanyeol. He’s a perfect copy. Despite this, Sehun’s still taken aback when Chanyeøl speaks.

“Sehun-ah¹.”

Sehun stares, mouth agape, and Chanyeøl takes a few confident steps towards him, closing the gap considerably. He holds his arms open like he’s greeting a friend, and if Sehun could just loose his arrow, it would be ridiculously easy to take him out. But Sehun can’t.