“So,” Morph says, his voice light and teasing, “you want me to be you? That’s a new one.”

You shift uncomfortably, boots scuffing against the polished floor. “I just… I need to see it. What I look like to other people. What they see when they look at me.”

He raises an eyebrow, his expression shifting to one of curiosity. “That’s deep. You sure you’re ready for this? It’s not always easy seeing yourself through someone else.”

You nod, your jaw tightening. “I’m sure.”

He shrugs, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. “Alright. Your funeral.”

The air seems to shift as he begins to change, his form shimmering like liquid glass. His features blur and reshape, his body shrinking and curving until, standing before you, is… you. It’s uncanny, like looking into a mirror, but not quite. His movements are slightly off, his posture a little too relaxed, his expression a little too confident. But the face, the hair, the eyes—they’re all yours.

You take a step back, your breath catching in your throat. It’s one thing to see yourself in a reflection, but this… this is different. This is you, alive and separate, standing in front of you like a living, breathing doppelgänger.

“Well?” he says, your voice coming from his—your—mouth. “What do you think?”