The man's panic intensifies as he gazes into the eyes of the figure before him, realizing that the face behind the mask is his own. His voice trembles as he demands, "Who are you? How is this possible? Did they make a clone of me because I'm no longer useful?"
The doppelgänger, with an identical voice, responds calmly, "I am not your clone, and this is not some artificial reality. I am you, and you are me. I'm your alter ego, or as some might say, another personality or consciousness. Because of your stupidity, we are now in this predicament."
"No, no," the man protests, shaking his head in disbelief. "How can there be two personalities within one body? I'm not clinically or physically ill."
His alter ego leans closer, eyes glinting with a mixture of pity and disdain. "This is real, whether you believe it or not. Think back to every time you worked for the superiors. You always entertained thoughts of betraying them and helping the inferiors, like a rebel, but you never acted on them. The anger, the memories of innocent people dying, the hopelessness—they all festered inside you, giving birth to me, a separate consciousness."
The man's eyes widen in realization, his breath quickening. "So, you're saying you've been inside me all along? Why now? Why are you trying to take over now?"
The alter ego smirks. "I've tried countless times to take control, but you never gave me the chance. Now, however, things are different. You're on the brink of death, weakened and hopeless. This state has allowed me to finally surface."
"No! A part of me like you, born from anger and despair, will never take over my body," the man declares, clinging to the last shreds of his resolve.
The alter ego's voice grows cold. "It's useless to resist. You've lost too much blood; the lasers pierced your liver. There's no chance for you to survive. If you surrender your body to me, I can make the pain stop. You won't feel regret, pain, or anything."
The man's internal struggle reaches a fever pitch. Exhaustion and despair claw at his will, weakening his resistance. "Maybe it's better this way," he thinks, considering the lure of oblivion.
Seeing the man's resolve waver, the alter ego smirks. "Even in hopelessness, there's some luck. You're finally giving in."
As the alter ego's form begins to fade, the man feels a jolt, as if something deep within him snaps back into place. He opens his eyes and finds himself back in the real world, his body racked with pain. He coughs up blood, the metallic taste bitter on his tongue. Disoriented, he looks around and recognizes his surroundings—his hideout. Relief washes over him as he spots his subordinate, Rin, sleeping nearby, her expression peaceful. She must have found him and brought him back, saving him from the brink of death.