It was no longer a spiral.
“No,” Reiji agreed. “It’s not. But it’s the truth. And the truth, Toko, is the only thing the Shell never taught you.”
Toko’s eyes glistened. Not with tears. With the reflection of all the mirrors, all the selves, all the moments he had ever lived or would ever live.
He did not know if he had dreamed. He did not know if any of it was real. But as he watched Toko breathe—slow, steady, human—he noticed something.
Spirals.
She raised her hand. Her palm was unmarked, but Reiji saw it anyway—a faint spiral, almost like a scar, fading into her lifeline.