I stare at the person in the mirror. I'm wearing the clothes I had kept at Jisung's apartment, the clothes that used to be mine. A concert t-shirt, college hoodie and jeans with holes scuffed in the knees. I find a crumpled receipt for 40,000 won worth of candy in my pocket.

I sling the duffel bag over my shoulder. Jisung has left cash on the table for his landlord, finished packing a suitcase and wiping his computer's hard drive. There's nothing left to prepare.

"Are you ready?" he asks.

"I'm ready."

He looks at me. Sadness crosses his face. "You look like him."

"Right, sorry."

"No, I mean, you are him, but... never mind. It's fine. We can go."

He walks over to the closet and pulls out the box of photographs.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

"We have to get rid of them. Oracle will send people to search my apartment. I can't just leave information here for them to find."

I try to hide how much it bothers me. I don't want to destroy the happy people in the pictures.

We step out onto the balcony and he locks the door behind us. The sun is beginning its fall, a smothered grey behind the clouds. It's a six storey climb to the bottom of the fire escape. We touch down in the back alley.

Jisung walks over to a dumpster and drops the box over the edge. He takes my hand, holds it palm-up.

"Activate striking surface," he says.

The pad of my forefinger ripples into a honeycomb pattern. He takes out a matchbook, drags a match against my armour and drops it into the dumpster. The cardboard catches quickly, swathing the picture frames in fire.

"You... aren't gonna save one? Just one?" I murmur.

But he's already walking away. I follow him to the mouth of the alley and we step out onto the sidewalk. The crowd shoulders past me, rough like a river current. The work day hasn't ended but the foot traffic is as strong as it was at noon.

"You said you had a car before," I say. "Why aren't we using it?"

"I had to get rid of it, with the body."

Jesus, shut up, Minho. "Right, sorry."

The crowd parts, clearing my sightline for just a second. A pair of eyes are fixed on me. Lifeless, dilated eyes set in a mechanical face.

I grab Jisung's arm, pull him off the sidewalk and past the double-parked cars in the street.

"Minho, what are you doing?"

"The droid — I saw it, it's coming."

A car screeches to a halt in front of us, horn blaring. We run across the road, shove through the people jamming the sidewalk. I check over my shoulder and the droid is crossing after us.

"This way!" Jisung runs down a backstreet. "Turn here, circle the building and head it off!"

"What if it catches you?"

"Don't let it!"

He keeps running. I swerve into an empty alley, pushing myself as hard as I can. I won't let this fucking robot get away a second time.

I blow through a wooden fence and veer back on track. Another turn and I see Jisung sprinting past the exit at the other end. The droid comes barrelling after, its arms stretching out in a broad snare around him.

Our bodies collide, brick and glass shatters and collapses around us. I pin the droid down, slamming my fist into its head, over and over again until sparks spatter and my hand is covered in blue fluid.

I only stop once its head is crushed. I get to my feet, shaking the dust out of my hair. We blew a hole into the side of a warehouse — an empty one, thankfully. Jisung is standing outside, panting, a mix of relief and horror on his face.

"You said they'd have cameras, right?" I say.

"Yes."

"Think I destroyed it?"

"It was supposed to be in the chest."

I flip it off.