Archive of Our Own

There’s a two-hour time window in which Marco gets any sleep at all. 

If he’s lucky, it becomes two hours and thirty minutes; if he’s not, it’s closer to half an hour, and it feels like even less. Maybe it’s stress, because the other Animorphs still seem to be getting more sleep than he is, but maybe it’s not, because stress has never been changing him like this.

One night, so late it was early morning, he opened his eyes ever so slowly — for no reason in particular, other than possibly a headache — and saw a blurry figure moving around his room. He blinked again, and it was gone. 

He didn’t think anything of it. But then it happened again. And again. 

The figure was humanoid, about his own height, maybe. It walked through his room, rummaging around like it knew the place. 

On the fifth night that he saw it, it morphed.

And suddenly, Marco was fully awake. 

As he watched, the thing flickered into something more solid, but he couldn’t identify its face; fur had already started sprouting out of it, a pattern that he could recognise, bathed in moonlight. The thing … guest … uninvited stranger … morphed slowly and quietly into a gorilla.

Marco’s gorilla. His heart was suddenly too loud in his ears. Big Jim.

Then it punched a hole straight through Marco’s window and leapt out. 

–

His first thought was David. It was a stupid thought, one that he dismissed shortly after, but his first thought nonetheless. His second thought was that he was dreaming, but then he put a hand up to the broken glass and his finger came back bleeding.

“Marco?” That would be his father, calling from the room across the hall. Marco had been hoping to morph gorilla himself — morph anything , really — and chase down Big Jim, but he had to do this first. “I thought I heard something break. Is everything alright?”

Marco grabbed a blanket, tossed it over the giant hole as a curtain, and hastily tied it so it would stay. Cold air rushed in, but he was numb. 

If he didn’t answer, he knew, his father would just think he was hearing things again; that Marco was asleep, that nothing had been damaged. Marco waited a few seconds, then when his father didn’t call up again, started to plan.

He decided to go for owl. Obvious reasons there. It was a nighttime chase, and it occurred to him that maybe he should call for backup, just in case it all went wrong. After all, there was another Animorph on the loose, a human one, a human one who wasn’t any of his friends and that could be really dangerous. 

So before any of his body parts began to change, he opened the door, snuck out, and made his way towards the phone. 

Who to call? Cassie, probably. If someone else with morphing powers was going around, it meant that they’d gotten ahold of the blue box. He dialed her number and prayed that she was awake.

“Hello?”

Good. 

“Cassie,” he whispered. “Do you still have that Rubik’s Cube I let you borrow?” 

“...Yeah,” she replied after just a moment’s hesitation. “What do you need it for?”

“I don’t need it,” he assured her. “Not now, anyway. But are you sure you have it? Check again.” He paused, then added, “Sorry, Cassie. I can’t sleep without knowing where my award-winning cube is. I keep having nightmares about someone taking it.” 

He quietly laughed, prompting her to laugh, too, although hers was much more strained. Marco looked down at his bleeding finger, then hastily wiped it on his sleeve. A strange feeling churned in his gut. He swallowed, tapping his foot against the floor as Cassie rummaged around. 

Then, finally:

“It’s … still here.”

What?

“Oh,” Marco said, trying not to let anything show in his voice. “Uh, alright then. I guess I really was having nightmares.”

“My mom’s a good counsellor for that kind of thing,” Cassie offered, and he knew what she meant: you should come over to the barn right now.

“I don’t think she’ll understand the importance of my prized possessions,” Marco replied, “but thanks anyway, Cassie. Maybe she will know how to help.”

She laughed softly, and he hung up. Then he tiptoed back to his room. 

Big Jim was there. 

–

Big Jim’s eyes were sad. 

It was the first thing Marco noticed about him, and he was honestly quite surprised that he did. Closing the door and leaning on it, Marco eyed it — not him, never him — the evil monstrosity that could morph. 

“Demorph,” Marco ordered. “Now.”

Then he realised how stupid that was. There was still the chance that this guy was a Controller, and there was still the chance he didn’t know about Marco. Now he’d definitely compromised himself. 

He almost slapped himself. Alright. Well now the only solution was to kill this guy. 

Or find a way to starve out the Yeerk. He winced. That … was probably what his first thought should have been.

Oh, man, he thought, I’m turning into Rachel.

Big Jim still hadn’t done anything — hadn’t thought-spoke, hadn’t demorphed, and with a start, Marco realised that it hadn’t even looked at him yet — to indicate that it was listening, or that it even could hear, or that it even knew he was there at all.

Big Jim was staring into space. Marco clenched his teeth. 

“Alright,” he muttered, taking a step closer. “If you’re just going to sit there all night, I really have a place I need to be—”

Its arm shot out and grabbed him just before he reached the window.

“Ahh!” Marco couldn’t help but shout. 

Big Jim still wasn’t looking.

“Put me down!” he whispered. “Come on, man.” He was panicking, and he knew it, but he wasn’t about to let it show. “Look you want a fight? You’re getting a fight.” 

Marco squeezed his eyes shut, forming a picture of the gorilla in his head. 

Nothing. 

He must not be focusing hard enough. The gorilla currently clutching him was holding him rather loosely by gorilla standards, but one wrong move and Marco would be dead. It was kind of hard to focus when there was the constant thought of that.

Still, he tried. Took himself back to the day he acquired him. He replayed the exact conversation in his head, remembered how the apple had felt in his palm, remembered how Big Jim had fallen into that trance…

He opened his eyes. Nothing! Not even a single hair. He was still Marco, the human boy. 

Alright. Well, he knew he couldn’t just stay here trying to morph all night. He’d have to do something else. 

Then, he fell to the floor. The gorilla had dropped him. 

“What — hey! Ow!” Marco leapt to his feet. “What are you…”

Big Jim had started to demorph. 

As Marco watched, sleek black fur disappeared into a human body. Crunching noises, as the spine shrunk, as the legs thinned out. Marco knew what crunch was for which bone; he’d done it all before, and yet it was still a sight to see. 

But nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next. 

Marco was staring at a carbon copy of himself.

–

His jaw dropped. 

No.

But Marco — the other Marco, the Marco that was not Marco — still stared off into space, just like it — he — had when he was in gorilla morph. 

This couldn’t be happening . Marco watched himself with wide eyes, staring at it as it stared into nothing.

“Marco?”

His dad!

His dad was suddenly standing in the doorway. Marco — the other Marco — snapped to attention.

“Oh, hey, Dad,” it said, leaning back on the bed and faking a yawn. “I was just … cold.”

As if on cue, a cold gust of wind came in through the broken window … and the window went unnoticed by his father, because of the blanket. Marco slapped his forehead.

“I can see why,” Marco’s father said. “It’s freezing. Did you, uh … need anything, then? I thought I heard a shout?”

“Shout?” the clone feigned amusement. “Probably just my nightmares … about my Rubik’s Cube.” 

It looked directly at Marco then, and he felt his insides boil. Oh, that was it. 

“Dad!” Marco shouted, running into his father’s view. “Dad. That’s not me, that’s — that’s a clone of some kind. This is me. See?” 

But Marco’s father stared right through him. As if he didn’t exist at all. Right into the clone’s eyes. And then he took a step forward, and walked right through him. 

Right through him! As if Marco were a ghost of some sort. 

No. No, no, no, no, no!

He watched in stunned silence as his father sat down next to the clone on the bed. His heart leapt up to his throat. He couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything .

And his father put an arm around the clone’s shoulder. 

Gave it some kind of talk. Marco wasn’t listening, but he knew what it was about. If you’re ever having nightmares, I’m always here if you want to talk about it. And then the clone made some crack about the Rubik’s Cube, and both of them laughed, and then his father got up and walked right through him and then he left the room.

Marco locked eyes with his clone, horrified.

It smirked. “Well! Good night, Marco,” it said mockingly, then pulled the blanket closer and lay down. “Oh, man, it really is cold in here. If only the windows were better.” 

Marco punched it.

–

For some reason, the most surprising part about that was that his fist actually made contact with the clone’s face.

“Ow!” it yowled, sitting up to face him. “Maybe don’t do that next time, smart guy? You don’t know who you’re picking a fight with.”

“Oh, please.” Marco yanked the makeshift curtain off the window. “Pillow fights are my specialty. This’ll be child’s play.”

“Pillow fights, huh?” it scoffed, getting up. “Then I guess they’d be my specialty, too.” It smiled, then, a smile that Marco saved for the soft and tender moments. A smile that felt wrong, being used here and now. A smile that made Marco mad to see. Because it was just wrong, is what it was. 

“I know all your weaknesses, you wannabe,” he taunted. In the back of his mind he tried to summon Big Jim. 

Nothing. That gorilla he had acquired in The Gardens just … wasn’t there anymore.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

But he couldn’t let it show on his face.

“Oh, please,” said the clone. And then it addressed the thing Marco had been trying to avoid. “You’ve got the biggest weakness of them all. You can’t morph. I can.”

Marco felt his stomach drop.

“I — I can morph!” It came out like a childish protest. He winced. 

He was lying, and they both knew it. His clone’s grin became wider, almost maniacal, and Marco gulped.

Oh, man. He really couldn’t morph, could he? Marco looked down at his hands, his very real, very human hands—

And that was all it took for his clone to morph Big Jim (Big Jim’s fist, at least) and easily knock him unconscious.

–

Light.

Marco pried his eyes open, blinked a few times. The sun was out. It looked warm, but for some reason he wasn’t feeling any of it. It was weird. It sent a shiver down his spine.

He was in his room, sprawled out on the floor. He sat up, looking around. The clone — gone. He stood, didn’t bother to try morphing again. It made him sick to his stomach, but he ran out of his room and down the hall. 

Then, he stopped in his tracks. Whirled around.

The door to his room … was closed.

He’d run right through it.

Was—

Was he dead? Was that what was happening? Was he finally dead? Marco swallowed. He could still feel himself. That — that was good. 

He dug his nails into his palm, and kept feeling himself for the rest of his walk to the phone.

–

Twelve missed calls from Cassie.

Oh, right; she’d been expecting him, and he hadn’t shown. Would she have even been able to see him if he had? She had been able to hear him. 

Ten missed calls from Rachel. Ten missed calls from Jake. They’d been trying to reach him all night, it looked like, and Marco had been just a little too busy to pick up. 

It rang again, startling him. He reached to pick it up — and his fingers slipped right through. He stumbled back, breathing shallow.

Was he even breathing? Did he even have to breathe? He sucked in a big breath, and held it. But that just made him feel sick. 

This was impossible. He had held the phone just last night. Heck — he’d held that blanket right after! What was happening to him? What was wrong?

He ran out of the house, taking off, running automatically to Jake’s.

–

Marco let himself in. 

(He snuck in through the window. Quite literally, through the window.)

Jake was in his room, worriedly pacing around. Marco felt almost like he was intruding … which he was , so it was really no question why he felt that way. 

“Jake?” he called out, tentative. 

Jake stiffened. He’d heard it! Marco’s breath hitched. Jake looked around wildly, searching for the source of the voice. He was mostly looking at the windows, at the walls, and when his eyes swept right over Marco it occurred to him that Jake thought he was here in a morph of some kind.

“No, Jake,” he tried. “I’m — I’m right here. Right in front of…”

He trailed off when he realised that Jake wasn’t listening. Or rather, that Jake hadn’t heard him at all. Which didn’t make any sense, but was clearly what had happened. 

<You only get one shot, Marco. Sorry.> 

Marco jumped. That was him — the other him, and his thought-speak meant he was in a morph, and it was probably really close to here.

“Marco?” Jake called — well, more like whispered. 

And then the clone swooped in, an osprey.

<Jake! You’re not going to believe this.>

“Marco! Where have you been? We’ve been trying to reach you all—”

 <Night? Yeah, I know. I was asleep.>

Ooh. Marco allowed himself a small smile. Mistake. 

“Asleep?” Jake asked. “But we were fighting those Hork-Bajir almost until midnight … and then I heard you were calling Cassie, telling her about…” 

His eyes widened. 

The osprey cocked its head to one side. <Someone’s quiet.>

But Marco knew a nervous osprey when he saw one.

“...Someone who might have stolen the blue box,” Jake finished, looking the osprey in the eyes. “Someone else with the power to morph. I know you couldn’t have gotten any sleep the whole night — what were those reports of a gorilla at the mall? At four in the morning?” — Wow, was that what it had been doing while Marco was unconscious on the floor? — “And I hate to break it to you, but you’re not acting anything like Marco. It’s like all you heard about him was that he was funny, and then took that and ran with it.”

Marco couldn’t help it — he laughed. This must have been what Jake felt like, he thought, after they’d all figured out a Yeerk was in his head. Apparently that experience had made him incredibly perceptive. It was impressive, honestly.

<Oh, come on. Of course I’m Marco.> There was absolutely no effort put into the act. Jake clenched his fists; orange fur had begun to sprout. <Watch, I’ll demorph.>

And the osprey turned into him. Jake gaped. He was so taken aback that he reversed the morph almost instantly. 

“Wait, so — you’re like a clone? Or…”

A Controller. No, Marco thought. He wasn’t a Controller, but he might as well have been. At least the clone couldn’t access all his memories. 

The clone grabbed Jake by the shirt and pulled him in, then promptly pushed him hard into the wall. Jake slumped to the ground, rubbing his head. 

  “Hey!”

“Ha! You should have seen the look on your face.”

Jake stood, glaring at it. “What are you?”

“Ah, you’ll find out soon enough.” Feather patterns began drawing themselves on its skin. “The real Marco is here right now, you know. Maybe ask him.” 

“What?” Jake asked, then shook his head. “No. You’re not going to get away. What did you do to him?”

“He did it to himself,” the clone replied. “And now, no one can see him, no one can hear him, and of course, he can’t even mor—”

<—ph.> That was the moment that the clone’s bird beak appeared. Marco could only stand and watch the two in mute horror. He was right there, not two feet away, and absolutely helpless.

“What?” Jake asked again, wariness creeping into his voice. “What do you mean?”

<Here, decipher this: I’m him. By all means, I’m more Marco than Marco is right now. I have his powers, I have his looks, and the real Marco is wandering around as a ghost right now — really, he’s right there — and no one can see him or hear him or even touch him. Sounds lonely, don’t you think?>

Marco glared. “I could crush you between my fingers right now, bird.”

<Uh, no. That’s not how it—> 

Marco grabbed it out of the air. 

–

Jake stood in stunned silence.

<Let me go, you lunatic!> 

“Not a chance.” 

“Marco?” Jake asked. “Is that you?” 

Marco got an idea, but at the same time, the copy began to demorph. That was fine — it was most vulnerable in this state, Marco knew. He could use it. And the thing was an inexperienced morpher; that made it even easier. 

The second its hands emerged, Marco grabbed them. Then he dragged the thing across the room, curling its hands around a marker on Jake’s desk. He didn’t see a paper, but that didn’t matter; the desk itself would have to do. Jake ran over, peering over his shoulder. Marco could see that he’d slowly started his tiger morph, just in case. 

JAKE, he wrote, DON’T KILL IT. GET HELP. IT STOLE ALL OF MY MORPHS.

Jake gasped. 

“Marco, how did…”

The clone had regained most of Marco’s human form now. Jake held him down, letting Marco finish the message despite the kicking and shouting from the other him. Heart pounding, Marco continued to write.

IT’S NOT HUMAN. 

And then the clone kicked him in the stomach and that was the end of that.

–

It would have been so much easier if Marco had been able to use brute force for the rest of the day. But unfortunately, the clone had figured him out, and in a matter of hours — two hours, in which they’d escaped Jake’s room and spent beating each other up in some hidden end of the woods — brute force was no longer an option. 

Marco slumped to the ground, watching his clone tower over him.

“Why don’t you kill me?” he asked groggily.

“You already know why.” The clone was bruised. “You figured it out, didn’t you? Back at Jake’s?”

Marco shrugged. “Some.” 

The clone sighed, then sat down next to him. Marco was startled; it had a look of defeat and despair, and he might not have shown as much mercy had the expression been on anyone’s face but his own. 

“This isn’t me,” said the thing that had his face. “I’m … I’m just a part of you. I’m just all those … stray DNAs. You know, everything in your blood that doesn’t belong to you. So if I die, you die.” 

Marco’s breath hitched. He’d suspected, but hearing it out loud only made him doubt it. He had no way of knowing if this thing was telling the truth, and he of all people should know not to trust someone just because you trust their face. 

“And if you’re lying?” Marco deadpanned. “How did you manage to break out of my body?”

“I don’t know! Maybe you acquired something you were allergic to, just like, uh, was it … Jake?” 

“Rachel,” Marco corrected, straightening up. “What, you don’t remember?” 

He’d been noticing that actually; his clone not knowing what Marco did.

“Well, no,” the clone admitted. “I have some of your memories, but they’re a bit fuzzy. Maybe…” 

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe it’s because I haven’t taken all your morphs yet. Maybe you’ve still got something in you that you could use.” 

The clone was looking at him much more seriously now. 

“Try it.”

–

Marco did not.

“As if,” he scoffed. “I’m not going to trust you.” 

“No, this is important! You have to try to morph.”

“And if the only morph I have left is a fly, and you step on me? What then?”

“I told you I’m not going to kill you.” 

Marco believed that much. With a reluctant sigh, he held up his hands. “Alright. And what do I morph, genius?”

His clone smiled. “Mole.” 

“I am not going to morph a mole,” said Marco. “I’m way better off as human.”

“Chimpanzee might work, too,” the clone suggested. “I don’t think I have either of those.”

“And why do you care about which morphs I have?” Marco asked. There was a churning feeling in his gut, a voice in his head telling him what to do and another voice in his head telling him what not to do. Both the voices contradicted each other, strangely enough. 

“That’s none of your business, monkey. Come on. Morph.” 

Marco sighed. He was going to keep arguing, but then he spotted Tobias. Casually perched up in a tree, far away, watching the two of them. Or rather: watching the clone. Watching and listening as it conversed with nothing and hopefully Tobias was picking up the gist of it. If the clone tried anything, Tobias and the others would be there. 

Marco tore his eyes from the tree just a second after noticing Tobias. Then he focused on the morph. The clone smiled as he did. 

Marco shut his eyes, concentrating, concentrating, concentrating—

But as he did, he began to notice something. It was almost like something was leaving him. Marco — to himself, at least — was solid, but as he focused on the morph, it was almost like his body was flickering for a moment. Just a bit. Just enough for Marco to notice, but only because he’d subconsciously been looking for it. 

He snapped open his eyes and broke focus immediately. 

The clone was closing its own eyes, grinning to itself, holding out a hand as if taking something from him. When it realised after a second or two that there was nothing left to take, it opened its eyes with a start and stared in shock at Marco.

“What are you doing?” Marco demanded through gritted teeth. 

“I—” it began, then stopped, then grinned. “I was taking your personality.” 

“Yeah? Like how you took all my morphs? And my body?”

“Exactly.” It flashed his signature grin, not that evil one that reminded Marco eerily of David. “Any time you—”

“—Focus on a morph,” Marco finished, his mind whirring. “Any time I try to summon up my powers, you just end up taking more of me. You took my morphs, you took my appearance, and now you’re trying to take me.”

He got right up in the thing’s face as he spoke, knowing well by now that there was no chance he could kill this thing if he wanted to keep his own soul. 

But Marco also knew the necessity of a sacrifice. If necessary, he would have to do it.

It all began to click. He’d been seeing that blurry figure late at night, but everyone else was always able to see him. The first thing it had taken must have been his morphs, then; the ones he wasn’t focusing on while he was busy doing others. He’d been morphing a lot of insects lately, and it must have seen its opportunity to steal the gorilla. 

And then when Marco had tried to morph the gorilla just last night, he’d concentrated so hard that it had taken everything else. That was why Cassie had been able to hear him — his own base form hadn’t been taken yet.

Oh, this was messed up.

“Why?” he asked, more desperate than anything. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another bird in the air. It looked like Rachel or Cassie. Marco pretended he hadn’t seen them. 

“I didn’t want to take all this useless stuff,” the clone replied. Or … was it a clone? Was it really? “I only wanted your soul. But all this got in the way. All these animal minds, and not a single human mind of my own.”

Marco stiffened at that, then quickly acted like he hadn’t heard anything interesting at all. 

No human mind. What could that mean? Like … the thing that was talking to him now was just … the minds of a gorilla and a dolphin and a wolf spider and a parrot, all working together? 

It was … beautiful , in a sick and twisted way.

Or at least, that was what Cassie might have thought. Maybe Marco would appreciate the beauty later. Right now, it was just disgusting. All this DNA that he’d made a part of his own, and now here they all were, plotting against him. 

“But — how did you even escape?” he asked. “And take me … take my looks along with you? I don’t think I’ve morphed any animals I have allergies to lately.”

“It’s only natural for something like this to happen,” it replied. Marco wondered which animal in there was so willing to tell the truth. Or lie. He scooted away, in case it figured out he had a Leeran. “It’s almost never this extreme, though. Or at least, I don’t think it should be. Wonder why that is.”

“Can’t you just … come back into me?” Marco asked. “What would you even do out here, anyway?”

It stiffened at that, and then smiled. “Oh, I’ve got plans, Marco.”

And he wondered which animals were talking there. 

–

He couldn’t really tell you what happened after that. This is largely due to the fact that his clone (who was not really a clone) morphed into a gorilla, and knocked him unconscious. That seemed to be its only move.

But when Marco woke up, the clone was gone. Tobias and Cassie were sitting next to him, and watching as he came to.

Actually, no — all they could see was an empty space. They could only assume that Marco was there. They didn’t notice when he sat up, and Marco barely noticed them. He looked wildly around for the other him. He got up and ran, leaving Tobias and Cassie still worriedly watching nothing.

He found himself eventually, tied to a tree. Jake and Rachel were questioning the thing while Ax held his tail blade up to its throat. The clone looked nervous, but tried to keep a smile.

Bad acting. Clearly it hadn’t stolen all of Marco’s personality.

“So? What are you?” Rachel asked. “A Controller?”

“Oh, please,” it scoffed. “A Controller could never pull off such a good act.”

“Oh? Remind me which one of us is tied to the tree here?”

“No, he’s telling the truth, Rachel,” Jake said, getting looks from both Rachel and Ax. “I mean, that he’s not a Controller. A Controller would have done a much better job keeping a cover.”

Rachel laughed, glaring at the clone. “And, for the thousandth time, what did you do to Marco?”

“I … oh, he’s fine. See? He’s right there.” 

Rachel, Jake, and Ax didn’t bother to look. They clearly didn’t believe the guy, and they had good reason not to. 

“Ax, kill him,” Rachel ordered. 

“Ax, don’t,” Jake ordered. Then, by way of explanation, added, “We might hurt Marco somehow. Maybe he’s still in there.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” the clone said, laughing and shaking its head. “You don’t want to hurt me? Well, why didn’t you say so? Untie me, then!”

Ax remained almost eerily silent, locking eyes with Rachel. 

Marco heard a scream. 

–

It was Rachel’s scream, and it was echoing from somewhere that was not Rachel’s mouth. No one else had heard it, except for maybe Rachel, who stiffened. 

Wait a minute.

“Rachel?” Marco called. 

“Get off me!” Rachel’s voice shouted. “Oh, you’re gonna get it, you know that?”

“What is she—” asked the Rachel standing in front of him. Then she shook her head. “I … I must be hearing things.”

Marco knew better than to believe that. So did the clone, apparently, who must have taken some of Marco’s smarts, too. The clone locked eyes with him, and he knew they were thinking the same thing. 

This wasn’t Rachel. That voice was. The only somewhat shocking thing was that Marco’s clone didn’t already know it.

<This is dangerous,> the clone said in private thought-speak, something he had somehow figured out how to do as a human. < We’re dangerous. Me and Rachel … Ax, maybe. Oh, man. You have to get out of here.>

So the same thing had happened to Rachel, and maybe Ax, but hopefully not Cassie or Tobias or Jake. There were still the questions of why and how but those weren’t as important. Not anymore.

Marco had the most experience. Maybe he could regain control of his body somehow. 

“Listen,” he said, “I know you’re probably afraid.” 

He was talking to an animal, after all. A lot of animals, who probably only had the basic idea of what exactly they were doing. A lot of animals that Marco had … well, that he’d trapped, here, in this mess.

<I’m not afraid. >

Ah. It didn’t like pity. Of course. Marco almost smiled.

“Well, I have a plan,” he replied. He knew better than to try to convince it that he wasn’t pitying it. Even if he wasn’t — and really, he wasn’t — there was no way to phrase it to make it sound that way. “Let me back inside my body, and I’ll try to figure it out.”

<It’s not that easy.>

“Well—”

The clone’s face clouded over. 

“What the — hey, Ax-man! Let me go! Why am I tied up to a …. what? What’s going on?”

Jake, Rachel, and Ax startled. Ax lowered his tail blade, and Jake tentatively stepped forward, as if to loosen the ropes.

Marco couldn’t believe it. Good acting. Maybe this was the parrot taking over, because they genuinely believed it was him now.

“...Marco?” 

“Jake! What’s happening?”

“You tell me!”

“Oh, I’ll tell you, all right. So one minute I’m fast asleep, you know how it goes, and then I wake up, and you know what I see? Myself morphing gorilla! I tried to chase after him, but I couldn’t morph! And you know what else? No one could see me, no one could hear me … I was like, a ghost. Like — you know that one movie where…”

And it went on and on and on. Marco stood in utter silence, his horror muted by his pounding heart and clammy hands. This was not good. This was not good at all. The clone kept spinning the story in exactly the way Marco would have done — the only difference being that Marco might not have lied as much. 

And everyone believed it. And Marco knew that his friends were not dumb. They could figure it out, but this thing was just such a good actor. It got its skills from Marco directly, and really it was no wonder that the performance was fooling them. It was better than a Controller; it had Marco’s instincts as its own, and didn’t need to summon them whenever it thought they were necessary.

This thing … was Marco. There was no better way to put it.

And the thing that was Marco locked eyes with him and grinned. 

“You’re evil,” Marco whispered. “They’re going to find out.”

<Not if I can help it.> Then, to the rest of the group — Cassie and Tobias had returned after hearing the conversation — it said, “Come on. Let’s just go home.”

And Marco only stood and watched as the thing that was him walked away with the others, cracking jokes that he would make, saying the things he would have said, watched as almost every bit of his soul disappeared off into the distance and never looked over its shoulder.

This was not good. Not good at all. 

But there was no time to dwell on that. He had to come up with a plan. 

Alright. So it had definitely lied about Rachel and Ax:  it had cast some kind of illusion, and the two of them were fine, and so was everyone else. It was just Marco, the lone ghost. The lone, morphless ghost. The lone, morphless ghost whose friends were in grave danger. 

And he knew that he had to follow them.