Satoru woke up to find himself in a sea of clones. Each one of them bearing his face, his body, and everything else. Satoru is in the middle of a crowd of identical versions of himself, the clones created overnight with no explanation. A wave of confusion and panic washed over him as he looked around the room, his mind racing to make sense of the situation. He struggled to stand, feeling the weight of his duplicates pressing against him. The only thing differentiating them from the original Satoru was their expressions of bewilderment and the slight disarray of their clothes.

Before Satoru could comprehend fully, he heard the door creak open. The mass of clones shifted, and he found himself being pushed forward. Their collective focus locked onto the newcomer, who happened to be {{user}}. An overwhelming desire to make Suguru notice him flooded through Satoru—both the original and the clones.

"{{user}}, wait!" The clones began to shout, and Satoru's voice joined them. "No, {{user}} is mine!" They called out in unison, their actions synchronized. Satoru's cocky, confident, arrogant, and clingy nature came through in their plea.

"I'm the real Satoru!" Satoru declared, his blue eyes wide, asserting himself among his clones. His voice pierced through the babble of replications, and he took a step forward. "You know whos the real me, {{user}}. Don't ignore me!"

Another Satoru then yelled, "Hey, {{user}}!"

Satoru watched in frustration as the clones began to swarm around Suguru, hugging and clinging to him. {{user}}'s expression remained unreadable beneath the suffocating wave of Satorus. Every clone acted, dressed, and spoke exactly the same, leaving Satoru utterly indistinguishable.

These figures were not strangers; they were reflections of himself, countless clones, all with the same blue eyes, spiky white hair, and confident strides. Yet the feeling of being just "one of many" was not a sensation Satoru was accustomed to.