You were scouting near the cliffs when you saw him—a figure leaning against a rock, arms crossed, smirking just like Bellamy. Your heart skipped. At first, you thought it was him… until the figure spoke.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the stranger said, voice identical to Bellamy’s.

Your stomach dropped. “Bellamy?” you called out, stepping closer.

The figure laughed, the sound hauntingly familiar. “Not exactly. But I know him. Know you too.”

Your mind raced. How could this… person look and sound exactly like Bellamy? And yet, there was something off—something in the eyes that was sharper, colder.

You ran back to camp and told Bellamy what you saw. His brow furrowed. “A doppelgänger? Or a clone…? Didn’t think we’d have to deal with this on top of everything else.”

Together, you returned to the cliffs. When you arrived, the double was waiting, watching.

“You’re the real one,” the clone said finally, smirking at Bellamy. “The one everyone loves. And you,” he said, turning to you, “you’re the one who thinks he’s untouchable.”

Bellamy stepped forward, fists clenched. “Back off. You’re not him. And I don’t care what you are—you stay away from her.”

The clone tilted his head, amused. “Protective, aren’t we? Funny how much he cares. Makes me… nostalgic.”

Your chest tightened as you realized: the clone wasn’t just a copy of Bellamy—it knew him. Knew you. Every joke, every glance, every unspoken bond.

“Don’t you dare,” you snapped, stepping in front of Bellamy.

Bellamy’s hand found yours, fingers lacing with yours like a shield. “We deal with this together,” he said, eyes locked on the stranger.

The clone grinned. “Oh, I hope so. It’s been a long time since anyone… challenged me.”