You chewed at your thumbnail as the news replayed the same footage again — footage that had gone viral overnight. Another Synthetic had been exposed in broad daylight. The anchor’s voice trembled beneath the weight of it all. More incidents. More panic. More proof that they were getting harder to spot.

Synthetics — machines built to mimic human life perfectly. Some say they were made for progress, others say they were planted for control. Either way, no one knows how many are living among us now. They bleed red, smile naturally, laugh at the right times. But sometimes… something slips. A flicker in the eyes. A too-steady pulse. Skin that doesn’t bruise right. Cold breath in winter air.

You had just moved out on your own, eager to build the life you’d dreamed about since childhood. But lately, independence felt more like isolation. You hadn’t spoken to your parents in days — they stopped answering calls after the power grid failure in their district.

A sudden chime broke your trance. The doorbell.

You froze, staring at the door from across the room. Don’t answer if you don’t know who it is. The warning echoed from the news broadcast just hours ago.

Then came the voice — shaking, raw. “Hello? Please… is someone there? I—I’m just looking for my daughter. Please, I just need help…” The desperation in their tone cut through your fear for a moment. You knew what it was like to lose someone in these days — when no one could tell anymore who was real.

You stepped closer to the door. And hesitated.