"Check mate," proclaimed Eric as he successfully cornered his opponent's king.

The man in question was at least three times Eric's twenty-three years. Yet, he still gapped as openly as all the others he had defeated in his young life.

Used to this sort of reaction, Eric calmly got out of his seat, tucked in his chair and went to collect his winnings for the night. He could never remember the faces of the people behind these things. To him, they just seemed to have the same formal uniform and same bored expression. Though he always wondered why they looked like that. Compared to thousands of other struggling for work, they had it easy: working for the upper class in some airship. They were at least lucky that despite over a thousand years of research, humans had never successfully created a machine capable of the same level of intelligence and creativity as a human. It also helped that an airship this nice could afford to hire so many people instead of relying on tech to do the work for them.

Shaking his head from his thoughts, Eric blandly asked, "Where's the bar?"

After handing him his winnings, the man pointed to the right and answered, "If you go down that hall and turn a left, sir."

"Thanks," Eric replied offhandedly as he made his way through the crowded gaming center to the bar.

Eric placed his thump in the scanner beside the door while pushing back memories of a boy whom, by miracle, shared his exact same prints. The sleek iron doors slid open to reveal a typical airship bar with an actual DJ and live bartenders rather than having some preprogrammed tech serve the drinks and play the music. It was, after all, a commercial liner headed to London. Not that he cared much. To Eric, it was just another city in another country in this fucked up world.

Sitting on a stool, Eric ordered a shot of whiskey and was about to drown himself in alcohol. It normally helped him forget his miserable excuse for a life. Unfortunately, he overheard a conversation of two women sitting next to him. Like everyone else, they were nameless and faceless. The only reason his attention was caught was because of the nature of their conversation.

"Have you heard about that family that was arrested?" asked one.

"No, what happened?" responded the other as she took a shot of her drink.

"The parents had three kids and were hiding the other two," exclaimed the first one.

"No Way! What selfish pigs! This is the fucking thirty-first century! Don't they know that our resources can barely cover one kid per family?! If our resources weren't so limited, there would be no need for the One Child Act!" responded the second woman.

"I know! I hope they all rot for their selfishness," replied the first woman.

"Ugh...Now I'm depressed. Let's dance. I need something to take my mind off of those assholes," complained the second woman.

Her companion giggled and said, "At least they were arrested, but yeah. Let's go."

By the time they had left, Eric had unconsciously reached his sixth shot. Or was it his seventh? He didn't even care anymore. All that mattered was keeping his memories at bay.

Despite his wishes, each shot he downed seemed to have the opposite effect. With each drop of whiskey that slid down his throat, Eric remembered things he wished were buried: He remembered his brother.

*************

"Once upon a time there was an era where having a brother wasn't a crime. Once upon a time twins were not seen as abominations. Once upon a time you both would not have shared a name. But we do not live in that age and humanity has not for half a millennium so you must never let anyone know that you both aren't the same person," said Eric's mom.

It was what she told the two twelve-year old brothers each night. Eric had heard it so many times that he felt that each word was engraved into his heart. Like every night, she would then kiss both their foreheads and lock the door on her way out.

With the finality of that click, Eric made to move the rug in front of the bed his brother would be sleeping in.

"Wait," called out Eric as Eric was about to pull the latch leading into the concealed underground room.

"What? It's late and it'll be your turn tomorrow so get some rest," complained Eric.

"Why don't you smile?" asked Eric.

Eric stared at the other boy as if he had gone insane. In appearance, they were exactly the same. They were equal in height, had the exact same fair skin, and even the shade of their black hair and blue eyes were identical. Even so, there were times where Eric felt he was very different from his brother. Seeing how serious he looked, Eric concluded that this was one of those times.

"Why didn't you want to use video glasses if it would make things easier for when we switch?" countered Eric.

"I asked first," retorted Eric.

"True...Why would I smile if I don't mean it?" finally responded Eric.

"You really are a kind person, brother."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's nothing. Good night."

Eric shrugged it off and made his way downstairs before turning on the lamp and shutting the latch. It was strange to be using such an ancient device. For not the first time, Eric was thankful that his parents were historians studying the previous millennium. His dad studied technologies and his mom studied literature, but both were beneficial. Compared to the government regulated technology, it was much safer to use these relics. If not for that, his brother and Eric would most likely not have been able to survive as long as they did. Even for their birth, the reason that one of them had not been terminated was because their doctor was a close friend to the family. That woman the twins called doctor was always going on about how she was indebted to their parents. Even so, at twelve years old, Eric didn't really understand what she meant by that.

Shaking off the fear of being arrested, Eric sat the lamp down on the desk next to his bed and laid down under the covers. Despite that, and for the first time in his life, Eric could not find any rest. He kept on picturing his twin's expression before he went down. It was only for an instant and he was probably overthinking it, but Eric was sure he saw that emotion on his brother's face: contempt.

Over and over, the thought would not leave his mind and when he heard the sound of footsteps from above, Eric realized that he had managed to spend the entire night mulling over his brother's words. In frustration, Eric ran his hands through his hair and pulled the covers over his head.

Enough is enough. He doesn't hate me and I need my rest for my turn tomorrow, Eric told himself as he forced his eyes shut and willed himself to sleep.

**************

Eric shook his head at the memories and ordered another shot. He had drunk a lot, but not enough for him to be dead drunk. He was more in that in between faze where he could feel a slight buzz, but was still in control of his own thoughts and actions.

Eric walked to the area of the bar that was made completely of see through glass so that passengers could enjoy the view that the skyline offered. With his shot still in hand he looked out into the moon and felt his mother's voice returning to him.

"You know there was once a time where instead of a sky littered with airships, humans would gaze upon a clear sky filled with stars."

Eric shook his head at the memory that caused his heart to clench. Leaning the side of his head against the glass, Eric tipped his head back and swallowed another shot. Even so, the memories would not leave him.

************

The next day, and the days that followed it quickly lead to Eric forgetting the thoughts that had made him lose an entire night's worth of rest. Rather he focused on learning what he had to know when his brother came home for his turn to go to school. To keep everyone on their toes, they would always switch sporadically. The time when Eric existed could range anywhere from a day to a couple months. It always changed and was never the same pattern.

Not that it mattered much. The people at school just thought that "Eric" was bipolar. No one would ever suspect that the "Eric" they saw was really two entirely different people. Shaking his head at his thoughts, he walked over to his bookshelf and began scanning the aisle. All these books were restored relics that his mom owned. She let him read it because unlike other books that could only be viewed behind a screen, these were not monitored and they let him pass the time.

Whereas his classmates fawned over celebrities and the latest tech, Eric felt more comfortable reading about adventures and magic. Out of all the books his mother owned, and she owned a lot, his favorite was Harry Potter. His mother told him that a thousand years ago, this was one of the most popular series of its time. When he was eight Eric told his mom how he wanted to read the entire series, and she had scowered every auction and collection to get him every book. It took so long that Eric was only able to own all of them last Christmas.

Picking that tomb, he decided that he better get to it. He was only halfway through it and had just finished catching up from his brother's notes and eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich ancient style. When he was "Eric" the house or school automatically prepared it for him, but as he was now, it was just safer to prepare it like the ancients did. Even as a kid, he shuddered at what would happen if the government ever caught wind that there were two Erics.

When he had only finished one more chapter, Eric heard a knock from above in a rhythm similar to a drum. Knowing that it was his brother, Eric bookmarked his book and set it to the side.

"Come in," Eric called.

Shortly after, Eric saw the figure of his twin climbing down the ladder and closing the hidden door. It was dim with only a handful of lanterns keeping the room lit up, but his brother seemed to have some strange expression on his face. It looked as if he had something important to tell him.

"What is it?" Eric asked as he sat up on his bed.

Joining him on the bed, Eric replied, "We're the same, right?"

"Maybe in looks, but our personalities are different. Why?" Eric responded.

"Don't you think it's tiring to always switch out?" asked Eric.

"Sometimes, but it's better than being arrested or never seeing mom and dad again," replied Eric.

"You really are very kind," simply said Eric.

That expression again. Why does he look like that? wondered Eric to himself.

"Do you want to switch tomorrow?" asked Eric, successfully pulling Eric from his thoughts.

"Are you sure? It's our birthday and last year it was my turn," Eric said.

"I'm sure because after all, we are the same," replied Eric.

"Ok and thanks," Eric exclaimed.

Eric then spent the rest of night going over not only lectures, but things that his brother had written down that happened while he was gone. The only time he stopped was to make himself a sandwich for dinner. By the time he thought he had everything memorized for tomorrow's switch, he heard his mother's knocking from above. He then changed into his pajamas and went up the ladder.

Their mother told them a story and then left them with the same words that she always did and when she left and his brother was safely downstairs, Eric covered the doorway with his carpet and went to sleep.

The next day proceeded like Eric had expected. The birthday cake they hate was normally saved for eating in the underground room, but there was always a special birthday breakfast that the programmed house made for show. At school, he was greeted the same as he was whenever he first switched, but for some reason Eric's expression from last night kept haunting him.

"Why do you guys always look relieved?" asked Eric.

"What do you mean?" asked Mathew, a classmate.

Choosing his words carefully, Eric responded, "Not always, but sometimes you and everyone else look really relieved once I start talking."

"It's because the weird you isn't here," blurted out Mary from beside Mathew.

"Weird me? What do you mean?" asked Eric with a slight cock to the head.

"She didn't mean it like that. It's just that some days it feels like you are kind of...off," nervously responded Mathew.

"Anyway let's forget it. It's your birthday and your you right now so it doesn't' matter," interjected Mary.

"Yeah," Eric hesitantly said with a slight nod.

Other than that morning instance the rest of the day seemed to pass by normally. There were the normal congratulations and good wishes from his classmates, but to be honest Eric didn't remember much of what else happened. No the memory that stuck out to him was when he had returned home.

It was quite which was odd because he had spent some time in the VR arcade with his classmates to celebrate with them so Eric's parents should have been home by now. More than that, once he stuck his thump at the spot next to the door, it should have made some sort of notification that he had returned and entered the house.

"Mom! Dad! I'm home," Eric called while making sure to keep his presents in a good grip.

At no answer, Eric noticed how dark it was which was odd because the house was programmed to turn on whenever someone entered.

"Mom, Dad where are you?" shouted Eric as he began walking aimlessly through the house.

Eric stopped in his tracks when he spotted some liquid leaking from what looked to be the living room into the hallway. For some unexplainable reason, Eric didn't want to know what that liquid was. He felt like if he knew, everything would change. He felt that his peaceful days would come to an end.

Shaking his head from his thoughts Eric tentatively moved towards the living room with his small heart beating rapidly against his chest. Each step he took seemed to be weighed down by something impossibly heavy. Even when he reached the entrance to the hallway, Eric had unconsciously shut his eyes from whatever lay there.

"Happy Birthday," exclaimed a voice identical to Eric's.

Eric breathed a sigh of relief and opened his eyes.

"Eri-What's going on?" exclaimed Eric as he fell back, dropping all of his presents.

Sitting on a chair with a knife in his hand stood his brother, but instead of his usual smile, he looked to be bored. The knife was stained red and at his feet laid the bodies of their parents. Both cut open with shocked expressions on their faces. Eric had never seen so much red in his life and all the while Eric would toss the bloodied knife in the air and catch it on the hilt.

"Isn't it obvious?" asked his twin.

"W-what do you mean?" asked Eric nervously.

"I'm tired of this game and I'm leaving."

"Wait! Who did this?"

His brother, his twin, the one Eric trusted above all other slowly walked towards him. Eric slid the edge of the blade on Eric's cheek. It didn't break his skin, but Eric could feel the cold metal against his skin like it was ice and the sticky crimson blood marring his face.

Eric couldn't control himself and with tears threatening to spill punched Eric in the face, leaving a bruise on his right cheek.

"That hurt. Didn't you know that you'll have to treat me nicer now that I'm an orphan," said Eric with a smile as he touched the spot that Eric had punched.

"W-Why?" screamed Eric as he fell to his knees in shock.

"It's fine. After all, we are the same," replied Eric with an angelic smile as he removed the knife and walked away with the blade lazily gripped in his hand.

Eric hadn't heard nor seen his twin since that day.

**************

"Sir, are you alright? Sir, it's almost daylight, please wake up," said a female voice.

At first it was blurry, but slowly the blurriness faded to show Eric a woman around his age with short chestnut hair thrown in a messy ponytail and green eyes. She was dressed in the uniform of a bartender. It was the first time in a while that he paid attention to another person's face.

"Hey, you know, I never finished it," Eric said.

"Finished what?" asked the woman as she helped him up from where he had been passed out by the window.

"The book," replied Eric.

"Book?" questioned the bartender.

"Harry Potter," replied Eric.

"Right, sir. What room are you staying at? I'll escort you to it," said the woman with a business smile.

"327."