The walls of the Saint Jude Institute are a shade of white that doesn't exist in nature; it is a color designed to erase the memory of the sun. I am Claire, or at least, I remember being Claire. I remember the smell of old books, the taste of peppermint tea, and the precise, clinical thrill of diagnosing a fractured mind.

Then came the 'Symmetry Project.' They promised a leap in cognitive evolution, a way to share consciousness. Instead, they gave me a fracture.

I woke up in a body that felt like a borrowed coat—too tight in the shoulders, too heavy in the limbs. At first, I believed it was a temporary displacement, a glitch in the system. But as the days passed, the gaps in my memory began to fill with things I had never done. I remember the feeling of a cold blade against skin. I remember the sound of a door locking from the outside. I remember a face—my own face—screaming in terror.

The doctors tell me I am recovering. They smile with their teeth too white and their eyes too empty. They treat me with a kindness that feels like a threat. I spend my hours staring into the mirror, searching for a trace of Claire in the stranger staring back. But the stranger is starting to smile back at me, and the smile is not mine.

I've started finding notes written in my own handwriting, in places I don't remember visiting. *'Don't trust the mirrors,'* one says. *'He is still inside,'* says another. Who is 'he'? And why does my heart race with a familiar, predatory hunger whenever I see the nurses' vulnerable necks?

I am a psychologist, and I am the patient. I am the hunter, and I am the prey. The boundary between the 'I' and the 'Other' has dissolved, leaving behind a jagged void. I can feel the original owner of this body scratching at the inside of my skull, demanding to be let back in.

Last night, I found a small, red ribbon tied around my wrist. I don't remember putting it there. But as I looked at it, a memory surfaced—a memory of a girl, a ribbon, and a shallow grave in the woods. The realization hit me like a physical blow: I haven't been transferred into a random body. I've been locked inside a monster. And the monster is starting to wake up.

*** OTMES_v2_Code: [M1:8.0, M7:7.0, N1:0.5, N2:0.5, K1:0.8, K2:0.2, TI:55.2, theta:45.0]