5/18/2023 0 Comments Misaka clone x male reader![]() Then, hearing a door swing open, I turned my head to face it. It looked like I was dressed in some sort of white hospital gown or something - just great. I slapped my hand over my mouth in shock, not from just one but two things. ![]() I sat up, instantly seeing the sanitary white of the wall in front of me. The light on the roof was blindingly bright. I yawned, stretching my oddly thin arms out. For some reason though, my voice sounded different - my words, too. "That was an odd dream," I murmured to myself. With no memory of my death or the day of it, my brain reached the logical conclusion of it being a dream. My former wakefulness, my certainty of my death and my finding out that I was now a clone of a fictional character felt fuzzy and unreal - like a dream. I'm honestly not too surprised that I fainted right then and there. That meant that I was… I was now a clone. Staring at me was a tube from the series 'A Certain Scientific Railgun.' A tube which I knew clones of Mikoto Misaka, the series' protagonist, were produced in. We were in a futuristic laboratory.įrom the corner of my eye, I could see brown hair cascading down my head. Standing in front of me were two scientists dressed in lab coats wearing glasses, one younger and one older. For a second the brightness was almost blinding, but I managed to adjust. I caught a few words, however, that made me freeze.ĭreading what I was about to see, I opened my eyes. This voice was filled with desperate excitement. I did hear something of a questioning tone in their voice though.Īn older, but no less bright, feminine voice responded in the same language. ![]() Unfortunately, I hadn't brushed up on my Japanese for a while, so I couldn't exactly understand whatever the person whose voice it was was saying very well. The voice was soft, bright, and feminine. It sounded like someone speaking a foreign language - no, it was someone speaking a foreign language Japanese, as a matter of fact. I felt myself fall forward, and a hand caught me, holding me by an arm steadying myself, I stood up. My body felt different and weird, but not wrong - just different. I could feel light on the back of my eyelids. What was going to happen after this fluid drained away? Would I face a judge of the dead or something? 'God, I hoped they won't judge me too badly.'įinally the fluid drained, and I heard a hissing sound. Still, I couldn't really stop myself from worrying. I don't really remember what I was thinking at the time to be totally honest, but it was probably something along the lines of 'Oh god what the hell is happening.' Essentially, it was like a sensory deprivation tank, but worse, because you would know you couldn't exit it at any time you pleased. You couldn't feel anything else except your thoughts. But for some reason, I was certain: I had died.Īt the time, if someone had asked me how I would describe death, I would describe it like this: feeling like you're floating deep in the ocean, with no need to breathe and your eyes fully closed. I didn't remember how, or what had killed me, or even the day of my death overall. When I woke up, the one thing I thought I knew for sure was that I was dead.
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