Ever since I saw those strange holograms in the Island's control center, I'd considered this possibility in the back of mind, but I wasn't prepared to confront it. Not directly.
The room was similar to the one with the creatures, if much smaller. Specimen tubes lined the walls in neat rows and columns, but these all held the same species: Homo sapiens.
They weren't clones, exactly, at least not of each other. Each one was unique, and they were all adults.
I suppose I came from somewhere like this too - designed in that control center and then created in this factory. Does that mean my memories, they're all transplants? Fake? No, impossible. They're too vivid, too detailed. Maybe, somehow, the station can reach back in time and just... copy someone.
That seems unlikely, but I think I'll cling to it. It makes me feel more... real. At least that way, someone actually lived my life. Even if it wasn't me.