Walter * 2 = ?

The woman’s gaze lingered on his grease-smudged face before shifting toward the silent invention on the workbench. A small, enigmatic smile played on her lips as she tucked a stray lock of golden hair behind her ear.

"You're looking for a good first test subject," she said.

But the voice that emerged was not the soft, melodic tone one would expect from such a stunning appearance. Instead, it was a deep, resonant baritone—a gravelly, masculine bass that sounded remarkably like Walter’s own. It was his own cadence, his own inflection, vibrating from her throat with startling clarity.

Walter froze, his hand still hovering near the brass plating of his machine. The sound sent a shiver down his spine; it was as if he were listening to a recording of himself played through a much heavier speaker.

"Don't look so stunned," she continued, her eyes twinkling with a familiar brand of mischief. "It’s a bit of a shock to the system, isn't it? To see yourself looking... well, like this."

She gestured vaguely toward her shimmering golden bikini and flowing blonde hair, her expression one of nonchalant amusement.

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to realize," she said, stepping closer to the workbench as if the scent of sea salt were part of her wake. "You’re looking at a version of yourself that took a slight detour through the space-time continuum."

Walter's jaw dropped, his breath hitching in his chest. "You... you can't be..."

"I am you, Walter," she said with a hearty, masculine chuckle that vibrated through her slender frame. "And I just dropped by to say hello!"

Walter stared at her, his brain struggling to reconcile the sight before him: a beautiful woman in a golden bikini possessing the rugged voice of an old man.

"You are... me?" Walter stammered, wiping grease onto his apron. "But you're a woman! You look nothing like me!"

The woman laughed again, that deep sound echoing through the garage as she walked toward the brass-plated machine. She leaned over the invention, her eyes glinting with technical pride.

"A few hours ago, before I made the jump back to this moment, I needed a physical template—a vessel for the transit," she explained, her hands gesturing toward the device. "So, being the curious soul you are, I used very machine to scan our neighbor, Junia."

Walter’s eyes widened. The realization hit him like a physical weight; he now knew exactly why his female alter-ego looked so familiar.

"You scanned Junia?" Walter asked, his voice a mix of awe and slight embarrassment.

"Exactly," she said with a smirk. "She was perfectly positioned for a high-resolution atomic scan. This body is essentially a biological reconstruction—a 'clone' built from the data we pulled from her."

She tapped the brass plating of the machine, her expression softening into something more profound yet still playful.

"Then, using the time portal to fold the timeline, I slid back several hours. I needed to arrive before you finished the calibration, just so you could get a taste of what's possible."

She turned her gaze back to him, looking him up and down with a knowing, mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Think of it as an upgrade," she added, her deep voice echoing through the workshop. "I’m still you, Walter. Just with much better hardware for the testing ahead."