1 The night before the National Robotics Championship, I took a hammer to my masterpiece and quit. The internet exploded—forums flooded with accusations of fraud, cowardice, hacks who couldn’t handle the spotlight. Only Greg Croft, the golden boy hailed as a tech prodigy, offered hollow support to the press: "I have complete faith in Leo’s abilities. He’s the only rival I’ve ever considered my equal. Whatever’s happened, I just hope he finds his way back and proves the genius he truly is." In my last life, the robot I’d brought to the championship was a bolt-for-bolt replica of his. No matter how I tried to expose his theft, he played the magnanimous victim online: "It’s alright. Leo can have this one. I can always build better." His fans descended like wolves. Fueled by rage, I rebuilt overnight—until a power failure triggered a catastrophic explosion. I woke in the ICU. The internet cheered my downfall. That same night, Seraphina signed my DNR. My last thought before darkness: How did he steal my data? How did he turn her against me? Then— I opened my eyes. Back to the day before the championship. "Leo, this dynamic humanoid design is absolutely insane! We're going to crush it this year. First place is in the bag!" My best friend Matt's excited voice snapped me back to the present. I stared at the six-foot-tall robot before me, a violent shiver running down my spine. "I'm uploading the final specs now! Then all we have to do is wait for the live demonstration tomorrow!" Matt was already at the computer, grinning from ear to ear. "Wait!" I yelled, my voice cracking. "Stop! I have a better idea." My hands trembled as I took the laptop. I navigated to Greg's public project feed, my heart pounding in my chest. There it was. A video demonstration and a full spec sheet. It was a perfect copy of my robot. "What the hell?" Matt leaned over my shoulder, his face a mask of disbelief. "How is this possible? I checked his feed this afternoon, and his bot looked nothing like ours! Where did that son of a bitch get our design?" I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. Last time, I had made the same check in the afternoon. Seeing that his robot was different, I had relaxed, complacent. I only discovered his theft half an hour before the submission deadline. I had frantically reported him to the organizers and posted my entire design process online, but it was useless. They didn't believe me. Greg's fans tore me to shreds. "Leo the Leech, at it again. First, he copies Greg's ideas, now he's trying to frame him. Shameless!" "Greg posted his data first, you pathetic thief. How dare you claim his work as your own?" The abuse was relentless. I had tried to prove them wrong by building a new robot overnight for the competition floor. And somehow, Greg’s robot had changed again, perfectly matching my new one. I was humiliated in front of everyone. They threw water bottles at me. Desperate, I tried to demonstrate my unique dynamic humanoid system, but the moment I powered it on, the robot exploded. The blast left me critically injured, fighting for my life in the ICU. With me out of the picture, Greg coasted to victory. He won the two-million-dollar prize and was immediately taken under the wing of a titan of the tech industry. His future was secured. And me? I was lying in a hospital bed, hovering between life and death. To make matters worse, the competition officials announced they'd found traces of high explosives in my robot's wreckage. They concluded I had been planning some kind of attack and had become a victim of my own malice. But I knew. I knew I hadn’t put anything like that in my machine. That announcement was my death sentence. I was expelled from the university. The online mob doxed my parents. They spray-painted "FATHER OF A MONSTER" on their garage door and left funeral wreaths on their lawn. They said my parents deserved to die for bringing someone like me into the world. The night I was admitted to the hospital, Seraphina signed the papers to take me off life support, telling the world I had succumbed to my injuries. The internet rejoiced. My parents, shattered by the news of my "death," took their own lives. My soul watched it all, a helpless, screaming ghost, refusing to move on. And then, I woke up. Back on the day before it all went wrong. This time, I will uncover the truth. I will clear my name. And I will make Greg Croft pay for every last thing he stole from me. 2 "Leo, we can still modify it! We still have time!" Matt insisted, his face pale but determined. "This competition isn't just about the two million bucks. The winner gets mentored by Dr. Aris Thorne himself! We can't give up." The organizers had already replied to our initial complaint, stating they found no evidence of wrongdoing on Greg's part. "I'll handle the modifications myself," I said, my voice low and steady. "Matt, you keep hounding the event staff. Don't let them off the hook." I took a deep breath. A second chance meant I couldn't trust anyone, not even my closest friend. In my last life, Seraphina had been by my side the entire time I was building and modifying my robots. The memory of seeing her, after my death, tucked into the crook of Greg’s arm… there was no doubt. She was the one who leaked my designs. But she didn't understand the complex mechanics or the code. Even if she gave him the physical blueprints, she couldn't have accessed the core operational programming. And Greg and I... we'd been rivals since freshman year. I was his shadow. Every brilliant idea I had, he somehow produced it first, leaving me to be mocked as a copycat. We avoided each other like the plague on campus; there was no way he could have ever gotten a direct look at my work. So how? How did his robot’s programming mirror mine down to the last line of code? Even with the gift of foresight, the question gnawed at me. A sharp, stabbing pain lanced through my chest at the thought of Seraphina. Why would she betray me? We were childhood sweethearts, practically engaged. She was supposed to be my partner, yet at the most critical moment of my life, she'd been the one to push me into the abyss. Shaking my head, I slapped my own cheek, hard. Focus. The robot was all that mattered now. My fingers flew across the keyboard as I began disassembling the code and the machine. I'd already conceptualized an upgraded version of this robot, but I'd held back, opting for a more stable, conservative build for the competition. I was confident even the base model could win. I was always good at this, with a natural intuition for mechanics and programming that felt like a sixth sense. But caution was a luxury I could no longer afford. It was time to go all in. An hour later, I leaned back, letting out a ragged breath as I stared at the upgraded machine. This time, I had worked completely alone. Unless Greg Croft was literally a god, there was no way he could know the new specifications. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I was about to submit the new data to the organizers when Matt burst back into the lab. "Dude, you need to see this! Greg just posted an update!" My blood ran cold. I snatched the laptop from him and stared at the video. I couldn't breathe. "No… it's not possible!" The robot in Greg's new video, the one he was showcasing with a smug grin, was my upgrade. Every last detail, every new line of code, was there on the screen. I scrolled down to see his post. His fans were already lavishing him with praise. Greg had written: "I felt my initial design was a winner, but in a competition of this caliber, you have to be willing to innovate. So, I decided to push the envelope with a significant upgrade. The performance isn't perfectly stable yet, but if I can get some feedback from the judges, it'll be worth the risk…" A cold dread washed over me. The core of the upgrade was a piece of programming that had come to me in a dream, a flash of pure inspiration. I treasured it like a divine gift, telling no one. Could he have hired a top-tier hacker? Was my workshop bugged? A terrifying theory began to form in my mind. "Leo, what do we do now?" Matt's voice was a desperate whisper. "The forums… they're tearing you apart." 3 I stared at my phone, the screen a venomous stream of comments from Greg’s fans. "Tsk tsk, looks like the Leech ran out of material to steal." "He's been riding Greg's coattails for years. Greg is a god, and Leo's just a rat scurrying in his shadow." … I took a deep, shuddering breath, the words blurring together. "It's fine," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "I have another robot. I'll use that one." I was about to lock myself in the lab again when my phone buzzed. It was Seraphina. I had specifically told her to give me space before the competition. I stared at her name on the screen, a cold fury rising in my chest. I declined the call and blocked her number. "I don't believe he can read my mind on this one too," I said to Matt, my jaw set. "This animal-model robot… he can't possibly know about it." With the grim determination of a man on his last hope, I re-entered the workshop. This time, I cut the power to the router, severing all connection to the outside world. No hacker on earth could spy on me now. I carefully retrieved a hidden case from beneath my workbench. Inside was a project I'd poured my soul into for five years—a bio-mimicking drone. It was more powerful and versatile than any humanoid model, designed for reconnaissance in complex terrains. It was only a prototype, and I had never spoken a single word about it to anyone. Three hours later, the assembly and programming were complete. I stood back, my heart a mix of pride and anxiety, and looked at the spider-like machine. Its most unique feature was its adaptive structure; it could shift between eighteen different forms to navigate any environment. Greg could not know. He absolutely could not know. Taking a final, deep breath, I reconnected to the internet to upload the data. But the connection was lagging. The spinning loading icon on the screen felt like a harbinger of doom. My heart hammered against my ribs. The upload finally finished. I frantically pulled up Greg’s project page. His robot had changed again. It was my spider bot. My exact design. I scanned the parameters, my vision going blurry. They were identical to mine. And the timestamp on his upload was exactly one minute before mine. His latest post read: 【Hey everyone, I felt like the competition was getting crowded with humanoid bots. So, I thought I’d switch things up with this new arachnid-inspired model! If you guys like it, maybe I’ll do a giveaway of some miniatures…】 I looked at his smarmy, self-satisfied post and roared, sweeping everything off my workbench in a blind rage. "HOW? HOW IS THIS HAPPENING? WHY!" The raw, primal scream tore from my throat. Matt rushed in, saw the spider bot on my screen, and understood everything. "Could it be the organizers?" he stammered. "Are they feeding him your data?" It was the only logical explanation he could find for two identical, last-minute designs. I stood frozen in the center of the room, a dark, suffocating aura clinging to me. We had less than two hours until the final submission deadline. There was no time to build another new robot. "I'm calling them. Right now," I snarled, pulling out my phone. As I did, I saw a text message notification. Seraphina had used someone else's phone after finding she was blocked. 【Leo, I am in love with you. My love for you is like your shadow.】 【Where you are, I am. When you are gone, I cease to exist.】 The words flashed in my mind, sparking something, a fleeting connection I couldn't quite grasp. I shook it off and dialed the organizers, my voice tight with fury as I laid out my accusation. 4 The official on the other end was cold and dismissive. "Mr. Vance, this championship is sponsored by the National Science Institute and overseen by two of its most distinguished fellows." "It involves universities from across the country. We would never compromise our integrity for a single student. Besides…" His voice took on a mocking edge. "Your university isn't exactly an Ivy League powerhouse with the pull to bribe a panel of national experts." "Instead of making baseless accusations, maybe you should focus on improving your own skills." He hung up. They wouldn't take any more of my calls. "Leo! It's getting worse online," Matt said, his face ashen as he handed me his phone. The screen was filled with hate. 【So shameless. A blatant, last-minute copy. Get out of the competition!】 【Someone on Greg's team must have been bribed. How else could this leech copy the newest design so fast?】 Greg himself had posted a reply, oozing false magnanimity. "It seems great minds think alike. Perhaps Leo and I just had a similar flash of inspiration. It's no problem. Leo, you can have the design. I'll compete with something else." Beneath his comment, his fans praised his generosity. 【A true class act! So gracious, even to a thief!】 【LMAO, even if he's given the stolen design, can he even operate it?】 【This is disgusting. Someone should report this parasite before he gets any more ambitious.】 I stared at the words, feeling the blood freeze in my veins. Why? Why was this happening? Was I doomed to repeat the past? To just give up? No. I refuse. There has to be something I'm missing. In the grip of that extreme, helpless rage, my mind suddenly became preternaturally clear. Memories of Greg flashed through my mind like a chaotic film reel. Before I met him, people called me a genius. But ever since he appeared, my light had been dimmed by his brighter star. He was always one step ahead, as if he could pluck my very thoughts from the air. A spark ignited in the darkness of my mind. "Matt," I asked, my voice eerily calm. "Do you believe it's possible for two people to have the exact same brainwaves?" He looked at me, bewildered. "What? No way. Not even identical twins are that in-sync." "Okay," I pressed on. "A robot you know inside and out. If you had all the parts, what's the absolute fastest you could assemble a new one from scratch?" Matt considered it seriously. "Leo, I'm not on your level, but I'm no slouch either. With all the components ready, assembly and full diagnostics… minimum, half a day. These are precision instruments, not LEGOs. You can't just snap them together." His words were like a key turning in a lock. My eyes widened, and a slow, strange smile spread across my face. It grew into a laugh, wild and unrestrained. "You're right," I said, the sound echoing in the silent lab. "To build a machine like this from the ground up takes at least half a day. So how could two of them appear within a minute of each other?" "It's not scientifically possible!" I stared at the two robots before me, my eyes gleaming with a terrifying, feverish light. I dragged the spider bot over to the industrial gravity press in the corner of the lab. My hand hovered over the activation button. "I've found it," I whispered, a manic grin stretching across my face. "Your fatal flaw."
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